On the Assault: The Real-Life Weaponry of the Expendables 2 Page #4

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You get ready.

Do what you gotta do.

Houston? We got a problem.

Down!

We gotta get outta here!

- Go!

- Go, go go!

Go, go, go, go!

Go!

Save your ammo.

Where the hell are you?

I'm almost there.

Hey, what's goin' on?

Are those shots?

Yeah.

- What's happenin'?

- The Sangs got us pinned down.

- Can you hold 'em off?

- Yeah, maybe with a tank.

- Oh, sh*t.

- What?

They got a tank.

C'mon. C'mon! C'mon!

Oh!

Let's roll! C'mon!

I'm out.

One left. Why not?

Hey, who did that?

Not me, I'm out.

Hey, what just happened?

- Somebody got a little carried away.

- It looks that way.

Where are the shooters?

I don't know, but if they wanted us dead,

we'd be dead.

Barney?

Don't freak out.

Small world, huh, Barney?

Booker?

Rumor had it you were dead.

Yeah, I heard that, too.

So, how's life treating ya?

Been better.

- You did all this?

- I fly solo. I thought you knew that.

Yeah, I heard it,

but I didn't buy it.

Well, now you do.

This your team?

Yeah. Gunner, Toll Road,

Hale Caesar and Maggie.

Booker... You're the one

people call the Lone Wolf?

I've been called that.

But I have mellowed.

Not that much.

I heard another rumor,

that you were bitten by a king cobra?

Yeah, I was.

But after five days of agonizing pain,

the cobra died.

Hey, Booker.

Great to see you, man.

So, how'd you wind up

in this godforsaken place?

We got ambushed by Sangs

about 100 kilometers east of here,

killed one o' my men,

young kid.

- Yeah, sorry to hear that.

- Yeah.

The Sangs are the lowest form o' scum.

- Shootin' them has been a good business.

- Do you know who the leader is?

- Yeah, a guy named Vilain.

- Vilain.

Mm-hm. Yeah, he pretty much controls

everything in this area.

You're gonna need more men

if you expect to get out alive.

- Can you help out?

- Ah, sorry, Barney. I work alone.

I understand.

Thanks for showin' up.

My pleasure.

Hey, Barney!

There's a village down the road.

They're good people,

and they hate the Sangs.

- Maybe they can help out.

- Thanks.

Happy hunting.

What happened?

I'm still alive.

That's a matter of opinion.

What'd I miss?

I'll tell you about it on the way.

Come on, guys. Unload these weapons.

Looks like Christmas

came way late this year.

- Yeah, I love you, too.

- Well, I'm happy to see you.

Finally. Somebody with class.

This gotta be the town

that Booker was talkin' about.

I could retire to a place like this.

Clean air, no stress, raise some kids...

You know, Maggie,

I could retire to a place like this.

You are so full o' sh*t.

Out, out, out!

They're missin' us by a mile.

- Put down guns.

- That's not happenin'.

Whoa!

The safest place is

in front of their gun.

- We will shoot you!

- No! Wait.

These guys are here to help.

They want to help.

Even you two rejects

could get lucky around here.

- You think?

- I doubt it.

Do you mind?

Who you are?

- We're Americans.

- Since when?

Swedish.

- Blackfoot.

- Chinese.

- Retards.

- You done?

What do you want?

We're here

to take care o' the Sangs.

Okay. Come inside.

C'mon.

This is who we think

you'd come for.

This is who we will die for.

First, they told us

there'd be good jobs, good money.

Some went.

But nobody come back.

They come for more.

They say as soon as our men go to job,

the others come home.

My husband goes.

For a long time, we hear nothing.

Then... the Sangs come and

they take all of the rest of the men.

Forced them to work in the mines.

Same in the next village. And the next.

They take my sons.

Now all that is left

are the very young.

And they will be back for them, too.

I know this.

We all know this.

So, we hide them and we wait.

- Why don't you just move on? Leave.

- This is our home.

Our lives will be

the last thing they take.

- Tell us why you're here now.

- We're trackin' 'em.

Can't you stay... and help?

You saw the children!

Soon they'll be done

and they kill them all.

We have

our own business with them.

I'm sorry. Let's go.

I don't think

they're gonna last here much longer.

I think they know that.

So we're not gonna

do anything about it?

I got an idea.

And with your ego,

I think you're gonna love it.

- My ego?

- Your ego.

- What do you mean, my ego?

- You got a big ego.

Well, check your ego out.

Please. Your ego is like

the size of a dinosaur. Huge.

We have it.

We found the plutonium.

By the power vested in me,

I now pronounce you...

man and knife.

One more!

Rest in pieces.

- This is the last one?

- Da.

Good.

The chambers are cleared.

No loose ends.

You bury them all.

I see about a dozen guards...

light weapons...

a couple of badass .50 cals...

Worse.

Anti-tank devices.

There's no way our trucks

will get through that mine field.

Look,

I know this is a stupid question,

but you got any ideas

that won't get us killed?

I got a few

I'm thinkin' about.

- Boom time?

- Boom time.

Target in sight!

- Baby wants to travel!

- Fire!

- Rock and roll!

- Fire!

Bombs away!

Tighten up!

- What's happening now?

- Chaos!

- You're not doin' what I think you're doin'.

- Yeah, I am.

Let's do it!

Come on, let's move!

You're gonna need a new plane.

- We're too late!

- What?

The plutonium's gone.

C'mon, c'mon, let's get outta here!

C'mon, c'mon!

Go, go, go!

Move it, move it, move it!

Go, go, go!

Go on, get outta here!

Go, go, go, go!

Pick it up! Pick it up!

We're gonna be here awhile.

Don't seem right.

- Goin' out this chickenshit way?

- Somethin' like that.

Hey, it ain't over yet, kids.

I got a plan.

Everybody calm down.

Phosphate rock.

- What's he doin'?

- Probably makin' a bomb.

You serious?

Ask 'im.

- What you doin', Gunner?

- I'm makin' a bomb. You mind?

- A maniac with brains.

- Scary.

Phosphate rock...

It's got a density of 1.852.

Melting point, 44.2 Centigrade.

Guys... I want some gunpowder, fast.

Do it. The man's

a chemical engineer, right?

And a Fulbright scholar.

Pour it in the pipe.

- The big man might be onto somethin'.

- You think?

Probably not.

Need some help with that?

Let's go!

Here. Go blow yourself up.

Lighter?

I want that back.

Better get back!

This is gonna be loud!

Get back!

Okay. Uhh... all right, let's go!

All right.

Better turn around

unless you want your heads blown off.

You better cover your ear.

C'mon.

Well, the phosphorus must have been damp.

Yeah, right.

- Or you suck.

- There's that.

Don't cry, Gunner.

You almost had an idea.

I'm back.

How you doin', Trench?

- Oh, I thank you. I thank you.

- You're welcome.

Bojan!

Hm.

- We're even now, right?

- Right.

I'll be seein' you around, Trench.

Thanks a lot.

- Relax. It's not over yet.

- What?

That's right.

- How ya doin', pal?

- I was doin' pretty good, Church.

What are you doin' here?

- I heard there was a party in town.

- Yeah, but it's my party.

- Has he always been this selfish?

- Always.

Thanks.

You wanna

kick Vilain's ass or not?

Don't forget the Little Rascals!

Move it.

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