sn*per 3 (2004)

[bunniefuu]

Target acquired.

Roger that. Target confirmed. Fire at will.

Make your target, Corporal.

You got a time problem, gentlemen. Lock your TRS and get this over with.

TRS verifying target.

Just eyeball the fucker and pull the trigger.

I heard that, Beckett.

We got incoming bogeys.

Range, 650 yards.

We have a 5-mile-an-hour wind, midrange, coming from your Lima.

Attempting to confirm target.

Sir, Evers' pulse, respiration and GSR are maxing out.

What about Beckett?

No, steady as a rock. It's like he's taking a nap.

You're running out of time, gentlemen.

Take the sh*t, Evers.

I could hit a hostage, Master Gunny-- Take the f*cking sh*t.

Stand down.

Stand down, gentlemen.

You okay, Master Gunny?

Perfect. Abso-f*cking-lutely perfect.

Target status: Target destroyed.

He made that damn sh*t.

I can't believe it. He made that g*dd*mn sh*t!

Game over.

Your position was about to be compromised.

Your directive was to abort that mission. We're Marine Scout sn*pers, Captain.

We don't abort unless we stop breathing.

You weren't supposed to make that sh*t. No one's supposed to.

Well, I completed my mission. Back in my days--

f*ck your days!

That was the luckiest f*cking sh*t in the history of lucky f*cking sh*ts!

Sorry I broke your toy, Captain.

But if a sn*per had to depend on that, he'd end up dead.

It's not a video game out there. It's all about one sh*t and one k*ll.

You're a risk, you know that? You're a g*dd*mn liability... that I, for one, am not going to risk...

Getting bored, are we?

I'm not cutting into your precious drinking time, am I?

Begging the Captain's pardon, sir, but yes, sir, I am. And yes, sir, you are, sir.

I don't like you, Master Gunnery Sergeant.

And I don't care about that f*cking deal you made with the Corps!

You fail that medical next week, I'll bury your ass back in the real world.

And that's a promise.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Who is it? It's me. Open the f*cking door.

About f*cking time...

You got it? Tell me you got it...

Who the hell are you?

Hey...

He's a big buyer. Lots of money.

He's okay, trust me.

You look like a cop to me. f*ck you.

He's no cop. He'll f*ck me.

You'll f*ck me too...

C'mon, baby...

How much? Twenty.

She said 15.

She's full of sh*t.

Just pay him, for f*ck's sake. He's got good stuff.

Only the Cobra's...

Shut up!

How much. Let's see it.

Just relax! Put the g*n down!

They said they'd put me in jail!

I can't go to jail!

You f*ckin' bitch!

Just put the g*n down!

He's got cops everywhere!

I got him. Get your sn*per.

Congratulations, Neil. Hey, buddy.

Congratulations.

Hey, nice going, Neil, buddy. Good job.

Mom, it's time.

No, he said he'd be here.

It's okay. I talked to him yesterday--

Come on, the TV people want a sh*t of us cutting the cake.

We can't wait any longer. Okay.

Sorry, Mom.

This looks more like a campaign photo opportunity than a wedding.

We decided to forgo the speeches today... because of an unavoidable absence.

If that's Beckett you're talking about, he probably got lost on the way to the bar.

Well, he's right.

No way I could do this without a couple of tall ones.

Sydney.

You knew I'd make it.

Do me the honors? Okay.

Actually, these kind of affairs scare the hell out of me.

Many years ago, your old man made me promise him something.

That, were he not able to attend your wedding day...

I would read this letter to you.

"If that grunt Beckett is reading this, then I didn't make it.

"I'm hoping this part of the letter is being read at your wedding.

"I just wanted to let you know that I love you...

"and that I wish you and your bride nothing but happiness.

"Love her and cherish her always.

"And may you both live as long as you want...

"and never want as long as you live."

Neil, I've been holding onto this for a long time.

Now I think it's yours.

Congratulations. Thanks, Tom.

Jocelyn and Neil Finnegan.

Every time I look at Neil, I see the man Paul never got to be.

Well, I'm sure his father would be very proud of him.

You know, this is a circus.

She's got her eyes set on the White House, and won't stop till she gets him there.

He's the son of a w*r hero... graduates first in his class at Annapolis, Harvard School of Government.

Climbing up the political ladder with honest living and hard work.

Hell, he's got my vote. Mine, too.

Your hand's shaking. When did that start?

A few months ago. It's nothing.

Might be, might not. You should stop by the office and let me look at it.

Tom, come on. Okay.

We're Marine Scout sn*pers.

The only time we abort a mission is when we stop breathing, sir.

It's a very big mistake.

Besides the obvious, his conduct record since returning from Europe... has been questionable.

Psychs are a bit disturbing. And he's just... old. He's the same age I am.

We may get one sh*t and one sh*t only. I want Beckett taking it.

You suffered nerve damage when you lost the finger.

The condition has been steadily deteriorating ever since.

The digitorum tendon... when functioning normally, flexes and extends the finger.

But here on the damaged hand... you could have an involuntary reflex at any time.

And it's more likely to occur in a high-stress situation.

What I see here, Thomas, also looks like the early stages of palsy.

You can't be a Marine forever, you know.

Yeah, I know.

I was just hoping to make it to 65.

You know, you should think about getting on with your life.

And do what?

Well, you should meet someone special, you know, settle down.

Why didn't you? I did.

But I guess the few years I had with Paul were enough.

And besides, you never asked me.

We had some good times, the three of us. Down at Camp Lejeune, remember?

Syd-- Don't.

He didn't come back. A lot of young men didn't come back.

Why don't you get out of that horrible motel and come and stay with me?

Tell you the truth, I've been living out of a sea bag all my life.

I've only got a few more weeks of the training sessions... then the Corps will just ship me out to some duty station.

Then you should ask me to dinner sometime. I haven't had a date in 30 years.

I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this.

Okay. Thanks.

See you.

Jarheads.

k*ll him!

k*ll him!

Madness.

Beckett, let's go! Let's get out of here!

g*dd*mn, they're getting close! Love it!

Just cover my ass, Beckett.

sh*t!

Finnegan!

Lay him down.

You'll be okay, Tommy. You're going to be okay.

Welcome to the tunnels, Tommy.

Can't see a g*dd*mn thing.

You'll get used to it. It's where the real sh*t happens, man. Here, take this.

What is it?

Good luck. Took it off a gook a couple of days ago.

NVA m*therf*ckers!

You didn't answer, Master g*ns. Your door was unlocked.

If I wanted clowns to wake me up, I would've joined the circus.

With all due respect, Master g*ns, you should've been a comedian.

What the hell do you want?

We have orders to take you in to see the brass, Master Gunnery Sergeant.

Yeah, well, I don't want to see the brass.

Let's get him in the shower.

Sir, you could have your pick of a dozen of the Corps' best sn*pers.

Corporal Evers is particularly good.

I'm not interested in him. I'm interested in Thomas Beckett.

This is NSA Deputy Director William Avery.

We know each other, Captain. We served together.

A lifetime ago, sir.

Best g*dd*mn sn*per I had the privilege of working with.

Well, thank you, sir. What can I do for you?

Tom, I want you on a plane tomorrow.

To where, sir? Vietnam.

I want you to take out a target there.

A mountain w*rlord from Phum Bat. He and his rogue army... are running opium, weapons, anything they can get their hands on.

Sounds like a pain in the ass for the Vietnamese, sir.

Why are we getting involved?

He's graduated to bigger and better things.

We have intelligence that leads us to believe... he's been talking business with the Jamaah Islamiyah.

What kind of business? Terrorism.

He's ventured into the big leagues.

Well, with all due respect, sir, there's not very much here.

Do we even know what he looks like?

Captain Laraby, would you mind excusing us?

Of course not, sir.

Addis.

Finnegan.

Thanks, Tom.

His body was shipped home.

What was left of the body. A body.

It's a long story, Tom. Let me try to explain some of it.

During the last days before the fall of Saigon, Paul Finnegan was recruited.

Recruited by who? The CIA.

His first op was to help the Khmer Rouge run heroin out of the highlands.

His cut financed the covert operations.

As the years passed, our interests changed.

Finnegan was offered a new op but the jungle had changed him.

That patriotic fervor had changed into something else... something that makes him dangerous.

He's a thr*at. To you, me, his family, and his country.

Welcome to the tunnels, Tommy.

What the hell's he doing here?

Is there any other way to handle this?

A deal or an arrangement?

There's no other way. We've learned the Ho Chi Minh Police... have set up a sting to capture him. That cannot happen.

If he is identified, you can imagine the problems that we might face.

The explanations. Not to mention the effect on his family... his son...

You're asking me to k*ll the man who saved my life.

I know how incredibly bizarre this must seem to you, Tom... but believe me, this is not the man that you once knew.

Over the years, he has become a cold-blooded k*ller.

And I'm ashamed to say, we bear some responsibility for that... and an obligation to rectify the mistake.

As a sn*per, you have the option to refuse the mission.

But I need an answer, Tom. By 0800.

I'll understand if you can't do this. I'll find somebody else.

No.

I'll do it. Alone.

I want no observer with me.

I don't want anybody else's hand in it.

How can you be so sure he'll do it when the time comes?

One way or another, he will get the job done.

It's all he's got left.

His life isn't worth a damn unless he's risking it, or taking someone else's.

First time in Ho Chi Minh?

Last time I was here, it was called Saigon.

Beckett, Thomas.

Welcome to Ho Chi Minh, Mr. Beckett. First time in Vietnam?

No.

Do you want anything, sir? If you know what I mean, you know?

Yeah, I know what you mean, and thanks but no thanks.

Sure? Because Ky Mam can get you anything.

Anything that you want. Any good massage?

Happy ending.

Thank you, sir.

Your bag has arrived, sir.

You must have the wrong room. I already have my bags.

Not this one, Master Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Beckett.

My name is Quan. Detective, Ho Chi Minh City Police.

Also your operations contact. Like I give a sh*t about some badge.

What's the operation code name? Cobra.

Come on in.

Interesting choice of shirt. You look like a Canadian tourist.

You'll find what you need here.

They say you can make million-to-one sh*t. You are the go-to guy. Yes?

They say a lot of things.

You rest after your trip, then we have some dinner. We talk.

I show you the spot.

Be ready 11:30.

This bring back memories, Mr. Beckett?

They told me a little about you. Two full tours.

You were here for the worst of it.

None of it was good.

You must have been very young.

Okay. Who else knows I'm here besides you?

If you're talking about the Ho Chi Minh Police, no one.

If they knew, I'd be a dead man.

All right, then how do we work this?

How do I find my target?

Two weeks ago, I arrested his biggest dealer in Ho Chi Minh City... and convinced him to, how do you say, to finger the Cobra for us.

Why do you call him that?

They treat him like he's a king. King Cobra.

They're just kids, really. Some barely in their teens.

You cut off the head, the snake will die, believe me.

The dealer told us about a meeting between Cobra and a new client.

We will be there to arrest him. You take him out before that happens.

Here in Saigon?

Saigon? Old habits die hard, huh?

At one of the establishments the Cobra owns. Club Cong.

Check this out.

This is very new. I'm going to make the dealer put it on the Cobra.

It'll send a signal to your TRS computer.

That way it'll be easy to find him in the crowd.

By the way, how are your weapons?

The AW Magnum's just fine. Where did you get that?

f*cking Japanese. Pretty cool, huh?

How close do I get to my target?

300 meters, maybe. Outside, inside.

Come on, eat up. I think it's best I show you.

How long have you been a policeman?

Six years.

When did the NSA recruit you?

Couple of years ago. You see how it is?

No better than before.

Things need to change. Maybe you guys don't f*ck up like last time.

Was your old man in the w*r?

Yes. NVA?

My father was an American GI, Ninth Battalion, 25th Infantry.

Nobody here knows this.

He d*ed here?

Went home to his real family somewhere in Ohio.

There. You see that roof?

That's Club Cong. Your target will be there tonight around 10:00.

He usually sits at table on the upper deck.

Will it be crowded? It usually is.

What about the street? He's got to come and go.

The entrance is on the other side. There's no sn*per angle.

After you take the sh*t, you abandon your w*apon here... and buy a ticket on Tan Son train. It'll take you to the airport.

What about the cleanup?

A new identification has been arranged. The body will not be claimed.

Police will be satisfied the Cobra is dead and no one will know who he really was.

I will not see you after this. That's my cell phone number.

Call only if you need something or if something is wrong.

And remember, one sh*t is probably all you get.

One sh*t is all I need.

Everything is in place. The op is on-line.

How's Beckett doing? Our contact says he's fine.

No hesitations? Doesn't seem so.

Target?

On the move as we speak. His buyer has arrived. So far, so good.

If everything goes well, it'll be over in less than 10 hours.

From your lips to God's ear.

'Cause if it doesn't, we're all in deep sh*t.

It's me. Thomas?

Yeah.

It's 4:00 in the morning. Is something wrong?

Sydney, I'm sorry, I...

You sound so distant. Where are you?

About 30 years away. Thomas?

I'm sorry, Syd. I'm sorry for waking you.

Are you okay?

I'm okay. I just...

I've been thinking about... how you and Neil are...

You're... the closest thing I've ever had to a family.

And I know... sometimes I...

Sometimes I forget how much that's meant to me.

And I just wanted to...

make sure you knew.

We know, Thomas.

Are you sure you're okay?

Yeah. I'm okay.

Look, I gotta go.

I'll tell you what.

I'll give you a call in a few days, after I get back.

You promise? I promise. Yeah.

You know I love you.

I love you.

Me, too.

I can't go through with this!

He'll know!

He knows everything!

I'll make sure he knows we busted you.

He'll never trust you again.

Nobody is to know about this. Except you and me.

What the f*ck is it?

Doesn't matter.

Just put this on the Cobra.

This is crazy!

I'm a dead man if I do this.

You're a dead man if you don't.

Any sign of Tran yet?

No. Not yet...

Let me know as soon as you do.

They're here.

Got him.

What the f*ck are you looking at?

Where the hell is he?

Where the f*ck you been?

He's like a f*ckin' turtle...

f*ck you.

You're late. We were about to leave.

They're inside. Make your way to the roof.

He's here.

Bring 'em in.

The Cobra's here. In the back, in the booths.

If you don't need me anymore I'm going to split.

What's your hurry? I just thought I'd party, you know...

You're asking me to k*ll the man who saved my life.

What the hell's he doing here?

A lot of young men didn't come back.

What's the matter? You don't look so good...

I'm fine...

Who's going to get me a drink here, girls...

g*dd*mn piece of sh*t.

What's going on?

Do it.

sh*t.

How are we going to make the deal work for both...

What did you do? Nothing What did you do?

Nothin'...I swear...

Now!

Forgive me.

Damn.

Got you, fucker.

You're not that good a f*cking sh*t, but you might get lucky.

What the hell happened?

Beckett missed the target. But he took out our g*dd*mn backup?

We're f*cked, truly f*cked.

Where is he now? The Vietnamese police have him.

It should be easy for our men to get to him, right?

Our contact is not trained for that. Then get someone who is.

I should be the one to talk to him!

Let Khan Choi handle it.

He's a bit more persuasive when it comes to things like this...

Talk to me!

I told you, my name is Beckett.

Thomas J. Beckett.

And what are you doing here, Thomas J. Beckett?

Soaking up Asian culture.

The man you k*lled on the roof, he was Cambodian national.

Maybe you two got something to do with what happened at Club Cong tonight.

Club Cong?

Look, I want to speak to the American Consul.

Sure. You bet.

The National Police have taken over the case.

You should have thought of that... when you changed the plan and forgot to tell me about the secondary hit.

I'll see what I can do.

Weird f*cking world, ain't it, Tommy?

Finnegan?

f*cking weird.

After all these years, they send my old hump buddy Beckett to do the job.

That was Avery's idea, wasn't it?

What happened?

You could always make the million-to-one sh*t.

Losing your touch, or change of heart?

f*cking Avery lied to you.

That's something the two of us have in common.

Which lie?

The one about you dealing dr*gs?

Or running weapons?

Or the Jamaah Islamiyah?

They know about that?

Why, Finn?

What other choice does a dead man have?

I gave my life to serve God and country.

You're a dealer in death. Whose God and country do you serve?

The last thing I need is a sermon about death from an assassin.

I did the job they asked and they sold me out!

Then why didn't you come home when it ended?

This is my home. It was always my home.

I knew it the second we hit that LZ in Tay Ninh.

After that first night, I knew I wasn't going back, Tommy.

I was alive here!

Even in all the death, I was alive!

Nothing ever made me feel like that back there. Nothing and no one.

Some people are born for w*r.

This isn't w*r, Finn.

This is madness.

What about Syd and Neil?

You know, your son just got married.

I delivered your note as promised.

They don't exist. They haven't existed for over 30 years.

It was better that way.

For everyone.

Someone tried to k*ll me after I took the sh*t.

You're in it now. You should have quit when you were ahead.

In what?

I can bury them, Tommy, that's what they're afraid of.

You're not the first one to come gunning.

They've been trying for years. That's why I stay in the ditch.

Sorry you got yourself into this.

But then, you always were an idealist.

That's what they counted on.

Neil's the one I feel sorry for.

He thinks he's the son of a w*r hero.

Every day, I watch this world descend into hell.

I'm just trying to find myself a nice comfortable seat with a good view.

Somebody blew up the police station at Ho Chi Minh.

What?

Listen to me, you little f*ck, and don't you say a word.

Meet me at the People's Unification Building in two hours.

You come alone... or I'll tell the Ho Chi Minh Police who you really work for.

I didn't know what they were gonna do. They never...

It was a game both sides played. Look, I didn't know.

They never told me the hit on you was part of the operation.

I swear.

What happened to Finnegan?

They don't know yet. They're still identifying bodies.

I've spent years trying to forget this sh*t.

You really think it was going to be that easy?

You're going to get me out of here. And go where?

You're gonna get me another r*fle and a sidearm.

And go where?

If he's alive, he's in the ditch.

Hang on a sec, Senator.

We had some people in Phnom Penh.

They should be in Ho Chi Minh in less than an hour.

The bad news is that our boy's gone AWOL.

What do you mean, AWOL? He hasn't checked in.

What about Finnegan and Beckett?

They're still ID-ing bodies, but neither of them are on the list so far.

I don't f*cking believe this.

I'm going to have to call you back. No, it's under control.

If Beckett is still alive, and he's gotten to our boy...

I know.

You and Finnegan were friends? I mean, real good friends?

Yeah. He saved my ass once.

This must be hard then.

He's a bad guy.

I know. How do you know he's up in Tay Ninh?

Not in. Under.

When I knew Finnegan, he was a tunnel rat.

Everybody knows about them, and what they did.

Yeah, well, they did what they had to do.

Some say they like it. You're not supposed to like it.

What the f*ck do you know about w*r?

How can you be sure he's there?

Because when I was in the jail, he slipped.

He mentioned something about "being in the ditch."

And that's what the rats called the tunnels.

Should we contact someone? Someone you can trust?

Right now, I don't trust anybody.

What the hell is that?

Police or NSA? NSA.

They're in pursuit of the signal. Our boy's headed towards Tay Ninh.

Beckett's with him.

He's going after Finnegan.

What the hell's he doing here?

Say hello to Stevie York. We're the 6:00 news.

Some men came through here midday.

They headed into the jungle. One was white.

He's headed home.

You really expect to go in there by yourself and come out alive?

No.

You're going with me. Why would I want to do that?

You wanted to know why they tried to k*ll me.

The answer's in there with Finnegan.

You see, there's something he didn't tell me.

The real reason they sent me.

And it was supposed to end with him... and me.

Where the hell did you dig this up?

It's my father's.

It's all he left behind.

I learned to sh**t with it. Is it okay?

Best damn sn*per r*fle ever made, if you ask me.

You didn't tell me your old man was a sn*per.

You didn't ask.

They're around here somewhere.

It says they're right here!

Our Cambodian units found the cell phone on the side of the road to Tay Ninh.

They must have figured out it was traceable.

Not they. Beckett.

What do we do now? Tell them to keep looking.

And pray that they find Beckett before he finds Finnegan.

It's getting-- Hold it down.

We're never going to find this place.

You okay?

There's more of them.

He's dry. Get him!

He's the last one. He'll probably be heading for the tunnels.

There.

Don't do it.

He's just a kid.

He was going to warn them.

Right. I know.

Finnegan knows we're here already. It's just a game to him.

We won the first round.

Pass go, collect $200.

Now it's our chance to spend it. What?

It's a game.

You know, like mahjong?

Stay close to me and do as I say.

How do you know which way to go? I don't.

Great.

Why not just yell out and tell them we're here?

How're we going to see? No lights.

Which way?

What?

I hear it.

Sounds like music.

Sounds like NWA. What?

NWA. n*gg*s With Attitude.

You know, Ice Cube, Dr. Dre? The rappers. Sounds like f*ck Tha Police.

What kind of idiots would write a song like that?

You ought to try listening to a little Bob Seger.

What?

Couldn't leave it alone?

Send some guys to take care of him.

You got yourself in some big trouble, boy...

Come on, policeman. Fight an' die.

Let him go.

He's not part of this.

He is now.

You brought him along for a reason. I'm thinking Agency.

And maybe NSA.

I'm not gonna waste your time trying to justify myself, Tommy.

We're both K*llers.

Different kinds.

When I k*ll a man, it's because he needs k*lling.

I look at his life and if it adds up to nothing, I take him out.

But you, Finn.

You got to liking it.

I never did.

So what's this all about, Finn?

How does it all end here?

It's about Stevie York.

You remember Stevie, don't you?

Say hello to Stevie York. What the hell's he doing here?

The AP photographer?

It's about Stevie and me and Avery.

And Gaylor.

John Gaylor, the senator? Soon to be president, some say.

What about Stevie York? He filmed it all.

We were higher than kites.

Smoking and hunting for three days without sleep.

There was nine of them.

Six men and three women.

When it was done, we started getting paranoid.

We'd make York destroy the film.

But as the days passed...

Gaylor and Avery kept getting more and more psycho on me.

So we made a pact, the three of us.

And then we k*lled Stevie and made it look like the NVA did it.

So what now, Tommy? What's our next move?

Tell you what. You could just walk out of here and go home.

If I leave, the cop goes with me. Go, get out, Beckett!

You know I can't let that happen.

You're going to have to k*ll me.

The only way I see it from here is to k*ll him. What's your old saying?

"One sh*t, one k*ll."

How about, one sh*t, two kills? A million-to-one.

Isn't that what they used to say? Do it. They're gonna k*ll me anyway.

He's right, Tommy. Take your best sh*t.

The digitorum tendon flexes and extends the finger.

Time's running out for one of us.

Come on, Tommy, make your move!

What's happening here?

They say you're the Mongoose.

Come again?

The Mongoose.

It's an old Vietnamese folk tale.

When God created the Cobra, he made him king.

As time passed, the Cobra became so powerful he thought he was God.

So God created the Mongoose to take his power away.

What do they want?

Whatever you want. You have the power now.

You're kidding me.

It's true, I told you. They're just kids. Kids do anything.

Listen to me.

There's a Colonel McKenna.

Colonel Dan McKenna. m*llitary Intelligence.

He's stationed at the Pentagon in Washington DC.

I want you to contact him and only him.

Tell him what happened here.

Tell him I'll need a dust-off in two days... where the Kampong and Mebon rivers meet in Cambodia.

Why not come back with me?

They'll be looking for me in the Nam.

I think it's safer for me if I DD across the border into Cambodia.

Can you ask them that?

You trust me to do this?

If in two days I get there, and there's not a chopper to evac me out... then I'll guess I was wrong about you.

You, too.

Hey Beckett.

You're one hell of a sh*t.

Was.

Was.

In breaking news today, it was learned that Senator John Gaylor from Texas... has resigned his seat in the Senate.

In his statement read by a spokesman, the Senator said he has decided... to end his political aspirations and enter the private sector.

His resignation came as a complete surprise to the White House.

Senator Gaylor was thought to be his party's leading candidate... for the upcoming presidential race.

The news of the Senator's departure... must be very troubling for the President, considering it was just two days ago... that one of his most trusted advisors, William Avery...

Deputy Director of the NSA, was found dead, an apparent su1c1de.