Death Machine Page #3

Huh?

Write down your

D-Lock sequences, please.

Sure.

Thank you.

See?

Give me the sequence.

No.

Bring the Cutter.

Did you ever see

that movie Scarface?

I know a better way

into the containment.

Follow me.

You're awfully keen to be

on our team all of a sudden.

That b*tch

just fired me.

Now go watch.

Hold it!

This isn't taking us

to the containment.

Now whatever it is

you are doing...

...don't.

- He knows this place inside out.

- He doesn't know everything.

Check your prints. The containment

is surrounded by security vaults.

So?

So, don't you think

it would be a lot faster

to cut through

a standard vault door,

and 14 feet of concrete,

and a nuke proof bulkhead and

2 inches of molybdenic composite?

Nice.

You know

what that means?

That means the seal in

Vault Ten has been breached.

Vault Ten contains

some kind of death machine.

- And your friends are letting it out.

- Shut up!

Warmonger.

Hey!

Don't worry about him.

Just get this stuff inside.

Christ.

Almost, but not quite.

What's that?

Ah. This? Backup.

I always carry backup.

Why are you

wearing those glasses?

Because this is

a surprise part-ay!

Suurpriiiise!

But you should have

come in fancy dress.

Weyland!

May your

spirit rise, man.

It's redemption time.

All I saw, was something big,

fast and f***ing dangerous.

- Frontline morale destroyer.

- Shut up!

What does Weyland think?

He's dead, man.

It took him out.

I'm sorry, man, I tried

to do everything I could.

There was nothing more

I could do.

- I swear to God--

- I've seen what this thing can do!

- Shut the f*** up!

- We have to take him down!

Yutani, you calm down now.

You're out of line.

- Calm down!

- Listen to me! F*** you!

- You f***in' idiot!

- Calm the f*** down!

You listen to me!

- Yutani, you're out of line!

- I'm out of line?

Excuse me?

Uhm... Hey.

STOP!

Dudes! Dudette.

I guess that you're all

pretty concerned at this point,

but then again, hey...

Who wouldn't be?

Because, uh...

Oh! Wait, folks.

This late breaking

news flash just in:

There is a psycho

death bot on the loose.

There is, however,

a way out.

All it takes is for Cale

to agree to...

One:

Reinstate my access.

Two:

Forget everything that's

happened here tonight, and three:

Agree to...

...interface with me

on a regular basis.

- All you need to do is sign.

- Yeah, sign my ass.

Ooh, God! That's

a sharp comeback.

Is that how you reacted

when David divorced you?

- What?

- I said:

Is that how you reacted

when David divorced you?

What the hell is this?

F***in' Oprah Winfrey?

Oprah? John, we are

talking quality, here!

We are talking Gerraldo!

Cale?

Miss Cale.

I realize that this is

extremely difficult for you,

but how did you feel

when your family disowned you?

- In print, no less.

- That's bullshit!

Wrong answer.

The correct answer is:

It's all in the files.

Except...

...why?

Why did they do that to you?

What did you do

that was so bad?

That's it, man, we're out of here.

Beta retreat.

Hey, hey! What about us?

Wa-wait, loo-look!

What about you, Ho Ho?

It's your problem, you deal with it.

It's not our problem,

we had nothing to do with this!

Nothing! Right, Cale?

Tell him!

Wa-wait, loo-look! What about

compassion, huh?

Or human mercy, huh?

Think about it at least, for God's sake!

So tag along,

moosehead.

We ain't gonna

look out for ya.

- Sure this is the right way?

- Yeah, two more offices. That way.

What are you, a one-man

percussion section or something?

Move it.

Engine quiet.

All right, stand back.

Hold it.

A Category One fire alert

would close blast doors.

All over the building.

- Make problems for the machine.

- Yeah, and make problems for us.

- Let's do it.

- Does anybody have a match?

- Not me.

- Not me.

Not me. But I do have

a thermic detonator.

Isn't that

a little archaic?

Hardwire D.C.

Can't be jammed.

Here.

What do you think

you are? Stallone?

Shouldn't you put it

closer to the detector?

It's a shaped charge.

Straight up.

Move.

What are you carrying around

a det for, anyway?

Once we got to the core,

we were gonna pile everything

right up to into

the middle of that vault,

and then blow

the sh*t out of it.

- And steal all the money.

- No, we were gonna blow that up, too.

Dead battery.

Another.

Why were you gonna

blow up the money?

Strike a blow

for humanitarian causes.

Put as many people like you

out of business as we can.

People like me? I'm not

the armed raid around here.

Neither are we, honey.

- Blanks?

- That's right.

Not a live round

between us.

Great!

Terrific!

I'm being protected

by the Three Stooges!

- Minus one.

- Hey, f*** you, Ho Ho!

You guessed it.

Humanist Alliance.

We're the good guys.

What's the problem?

- No power.

- Explosion must have ruptured those feeds.

That's it!

Time to change

the game plan...

...treehuggers.

Why did you leave that

lying around?

You knew Ho Ho was gonna

turn out to be the fat, sweaty,

desperate psycho!

- You gave him the knife.

- Oh, really mature.

Well, Big Boy

has got a gun now.

A real gun.

Real bullets.

And he's not gonna

let you play with it.

Come on, kids!

Everybody out.

Suck me.

Listen up, children.

We're all going down the service elevator.

And when going into a deep, dark hole,

a smart boy always pushes

a couple of canaries ahead of him.

Shall we?

Nothing personal,

You understand.

I hope this, uh... this won't

affect our professional relationship.

What'd you do? Huh?

What did you do!

What are you up to, huh?

What'd you do?

- Nothing!

- Nothing? Nothing?

If you're not up to anything,

then why aren't we going down?

No!

It's pinned me down!

Hit the button!

Press the button!

Hit the button!

Christ.

- Do we have any more explosives?

- Nada.

Flairs, dets?

Does anybody

have a cigarette?

We have nothing.

How ya doin'?

Uhm...

We're gonna need a bandage

or something here.

You're the man.

What are you lookng at?

Look...

We didn't expect trouble,

you know?

We're just a caring,

humane attack squad.

- Well, you got guts.

- You spelling that D-U-M-B?

What is this place?

I don't know.

Give me my card.

- Access denied.

- Come on, I'm Chief Executive.

Access denied.

All right, let me try the old

Ho Ho Execu-card.

Welcome.

Well... so much for

job description, huh?

Imagine getting

strapped into this.

- Nice shades, huh?

- Yeah.

Cryonics.

They're just kids.

What is going on here?

This is Chaank's

weapon of the future.

You take an injured war vet,

make sure he's listed MIA,

and erase his mind.

Pump up his violent nature

and program him with knowledge

of every weapon and

fighting skill you can think of.

He becomes

the ultimate fighting unit.

No mercy. No pity.

No fear.

Man and machine

indivisible.

Shame.

I was beginning

to like you.

We've completed

preliminary cerebral load.

This is the first test

of its effectiveness.

C'mon, hit it.

Okay, okay, kay, kay, kay.

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