Ang unang 200 linya.
Vicki. Vicki, come in!
Vicki.
This is fun.
Where are we going?
Vicki! Vicki!
Vicki, come in!
Vicki, do you copy?
Shit, her signal's dead.
- Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Okay, Checkers, looks like Vicki is forcing us
to go with plan B.
And I'm not talking about the morning-after pill,
which I have used several times after one night stands
and a few times with long-term relationships
in which I just wasn't ready
to make that kind of commitment yet.
But no, the other plan B,
an alternate plan to plan A,
which Vicki just fucking torpedoed
like a Russian U-boat.
Right.
Ooh, driving fast.
Got her.
They're in a black SUV heading east on Bayshore.
- Shit, Checkers, meet at the Miata, stat!
Vicky, Vicky, do you copy?
Do you copy?
Vicky, do you copy?
Oh, thank God.
I copy.
Sorry, I just
have to clear my throat.
Oh, gotcha, Vicki!
Okay, look, we lost your 20.
So any information you could sneak us would be a big help.
Keep it down back there.
Sorry.
I get carsick if I don't sing to myself
in an American accent.
Doing a great job, Vick.
But can you give us anything more specific?
Gravel road?
She must've left downtown.
- All right, that's great, Vick.
You're in silver medal territory,
but we're going for the gold.
Got it.
I know where she is.
Nice, Checkers.
Vicki, we're on our way.
- There's only one active rail line
near the old wrecking yard.
This has to be the place.
Bingo.
They must've already taken her inside.
Shit!
All right, Checkers.
Time to pump the bump.
- MacGruber, we have no idea what we're up against in there.
I think it's time to call the cavalry.
Checkers...
we are the fucking cavalry.
I overextended it. Hang on.
Let me get the key in here.
Dr. Poliskaya.
- It is a pleasure to finally meet you.
And a very pleasure
to meet you, Mr.
- I've been such a fan of yours since Oslo.
Oslo.
Well, we should probably get to work.
- Great. Let me show you to the lab.
Vicki, we made it inside.
Look, this may be your last chance.
We can provide cover fire, okay?
So just make a break for it and head for us.
We're roughly, like, 10 feet above you, right?
At your, like, 7:00 a.m. Pacific Standard Time.
No, no, no, no, no, like, 6:00 a.m.?
So 7:00 a.m. Mountain Standard Time.
No, Checkers, would you say this is 7:00?
We're upstairs.
Checkers, don't confuse her!
Vicki, I am so sorry about him.
So, like, 7:00-ish and maybe 12 feet.
Wait, wait, wait, Vicki!
Vicki, Vicki, Vicki, Vicki!
Vicki, Vicki, Vicki, Vicki!
Vicki, Vicki, Vicki!
Vicki, Vicki, Vicki!
Vicki, Vicki, Vicki!
Vicki, Vicki--shit!
She turned off her ear thingy.
Oh, no, damn it!
Nice going, Checkers!
Sorry.
- I think you'll find that everything
is exactly to your specifications.
Yes.
I very hope it's acceptable.
Mm-hmm.
Ah, little refrigerator.
Nope. Hmm. Something else.
- These are good for looking at small things.
Mm-hmm.
- Use a lot of cabinets for my...
tubes.
Ah, this is...
missing, um, s--
oh!
There it is.
Then I guess we are, as you say,
very...set to jet.
Shit. What's the play here?
What's the fucking play?
Maybe we just stand down.
It looks like it's working.
- What happens when she destroys Brimstone?
They'll kill her!
I know this is difficult,
but like you said, Vicki's a soldier.
This is her call.
No!
MacGruber!
Where are you going?
Shit.
So where is the item?
I thought you'd never ask.
Freeze!
Make one more move
and I'll blow your fucking hands off
and then use the remaining bullets
to explode your fucking head!
Put your fucking hands up, woman!
And not a move from anyone else.
Hello, Lon, Baker, Bex,
other assorted pieces of fucking shit.
That woman is not who you think she is.
She's not a Russian scientist, but rather an American soldier.
That man is insane.
He does not know what he's talking about.
- Her sole intention is to get ahold of Brimstone
and destroy it.
And unless you want that to happen,
you will do exactly as I say.
Now, Lon, slowly raise your gun and point it at Vicki's head.
Point your gun at her head
or I will shoot her in the head!
Slowly. Good boy.
Nice job.
Now, if she so much as breathes
in the direction of that canister,
you empty those clips into her, all right?
Hang on. BRB.
All right. - Jesus.
Yeah, yeah.
What's this here, you wonder.
This is the real Irina Poliskaya!
Yeah, we were able to switch her out at the hotel.
And you dumb pieces of shit had no idea.
Yeah, we fucking pwned you so hard.
Now I propose a little trade.
So what do you say, you wanna let Vicki go?
Continue Queeth's evil plan?
Or you wanna kill Vicki
and make me kill Irina and probably most of you,
and then everyone's gotta go to a bunch of funerals?
- How do we know she's the real scientist?
- Say some fucking science shit.
Weaponizing the compounds
depends on the practical aerosolization,
which is synthesis of exactly 0.74
microns per million.
Checks out.
Now you go.
Cooking an egg is a science.
Folding towels is a science.
Okay, you can have her.
Send over the real scientist first.
No fucking way!
You send Vicki first, then I send the scientist.
- No deal. - Fuck!
Okay, same timesies?
- Fine, but if anything funny happens...
She's dead.
- You took the words right out of my mouth.
I mean, I was literally about to say,
"If anything funny happens, the scientist dies."
I mean, it's not exactly the same, but same gist.
Let's get on with this!
- Okay, so, ladies, let's start walking
in three, two, one.
Walk.
He said, "Walk."
You don't have to do this.
Go to hell.
Eat a toilet sandwich!
- What? - I don't know.
Run, Vicki!
Vicki, stay down!
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