Hot Shots! Part Deux

We have to be at the rendezvous point
in seven hours or we miss our pickup.

It's your show, hero.
Let's move out.
Follow me.
We're late. I know a shortcut.
-The meat's smoking.
-Shut up.

-No, no. Let's take it off the grill.
-Leave me alone.

-Frank, you're drunk again.
-Whose fault is that?

This is the best way
to the prison compound.

They're used to seeing fishing boats,
so they won't be suspicious.

There are clothes in the wheelhouse.
Somebody once wrote, “Hell is
the impossibility of reason. “

That's what this place
feels like. Hell.

I hate it already,
and it's only been a few hours.

I'm so tired. We get up at 5:00a.m.
At first I thought they'd
handed me the wrong dossier.

I couldn't believe
they wanted this man dead.

Third generation West Point.
Top of his class.

Korea, Airborne...
...'bout a thousand decorations,
et cetera, et cetera.

I loved you in Wall Street!
Satellite reconnaissance indicates an enemy control boat has changed
course and is heading for our people.

Send the alert.
Hello, Lucky. Hello, Lucky.
Report my signal.

Report my signal. Over.
Hello, George Mike Walters.
Strength three. Over.

Recon reports Indians
on the warpath in your area. Over.

Ain't no Indians around here. Over.