G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra

James McCullen, you Scottish pig,

you've been found guilty of treason for the sale of military arms

to the enemies of our Lord, King Louis XIII,

even whilst you sold arms to our Lord himself.

Your king is a vile bag of filth who murders his own allies.

I should have charged him double.

You tried to overthrow the Crown in conspiracy with its enemies.

Unlike your simpleton king, his enemies know

that it is the true McCullen destiny not simply to supply arms,

but to run the wars!

Do you have anything else to say before the sentence is carried out?

Yes, I do.

Clan McCullen is far greater and more powerful

than any of you could ever imagine.

My sons will continue to rise long after I am gone,

as will their sons

and, God willing, their sons.

It shall not end with my death!

We are not going to kill you, McCullen.

We're going to make an example of you!

So that no man, woman nor child

may ever see your treacherous face again,

you shall wear this mask for the term of your natural life.

No! No! No! No!

McCULLEN: For nearly four centuries, my ancestors have been

the greatest creators of weaponry in the world.

But perhaps in this century, I'll outdo them all.

Nanomites, perfect little soldiers

originally developed to isolate and kill cancer cells.

But at MARS Industries,

and with the help of a little NATO funding,

we discovered how to program them to do almost anything.

For example, eat metal.

Watch this test of the world's first nanomite warhead.

Each of these warheads contains 7 million nanomites

and has the ability to eat anything from a single tank

to an entire city.

As you can see,

it quickly converts to eating any and all material in its path.

Once unleashed, the nanomites will not stop, ever.

Once the target has been destroyed,

the launcher triggers a kill switch unique to each warhead

that short-circuits the nanomites,

preventing any unwanted destruction.

Gentlemen, I'm pleased to announce that tomorrow morning,

your first order of nanotech warheads

ships from my factory in Kyrgyzstan.

Weapons case on the move.

ETA two minutes to NATO team.

All right, listen up. NATO wants the best of the best.

That's why we're here.

We got Panthers front and back.

RHINO's carrying the package in the middle.

Minimum distance at all times.

Apaches are covering us from overhead.

Detail, attention. Fall out, boys.

Captain Hauser, Mr. McCullen requires a signature.

Not gonna explode, is it?

They're not weaponized yet, and the kill switches are inside.

All the same, I'd avoid potholes if I were you.

- Hey, Bill? - Yeah?

Put that in the RHINO, would you?

All right, ladies! Mount up!

Okay, Apaches, we're heavy, so keep your eyes open.

Roger that. Skies are clear all the way to Ganci.

Hey, Duke, I've been thinking.

You know, I warned you about that.

I've been thinking about where we should transfer to.

- Don't say the Air Force. - The Air Force!

What did I say? I thought we were done with this conversation.

You were done with this conversation, not me.

You know, I've been flying

- since I was 13 years old. - Thirteen years old.

You know, I don't think your dad's crop-duster counts as hours logged.

I'm talking jets, man. Jets.

And you know I qualify every time we're on leave.

- You want to get up in the air? - Yeah.

I'll buy you a trampoline.

I filled out the application.

Really? They accept those in crayon?

Come on, dude. Give me one good reason why not.

'Cause I want to be on the ground, in the fight,

not flying over it.

Pioneer 1, this is Pioneer 2, going night vision.

Roger that.

Go ahead and back off. Give me some separation.

Pioneer 1, this is Pioneer 2. Going NVS.

Roger.

Hey, Duke, weren't we supposed to meet up

with the recon team at 40 klicks?

Yeah. So?

Well, we just passed kilometer 41.

Eyes out, eyes out!

Sweep's still clear, sir.

Roger that. There's nothing up here but us.

Tom, put a self-test on the flare and start to scan for...

Holy...

What the hell is that?

Pioneer 1, you've been hit.

No!

- Bird down! Bird down! - Back up! Back up! Back up!

All units, we are under attack! They're after the warheads!

- Pioneer 2, engage! - Put that asshole on the ground!

Roger that. Put the hurt on this guy!

Tommy guns. Firing, firing, firing!

- Missiles armed. - Match and shoot.

Match and shoot! Missiles off!

They shot him right out of the air.

Oh, my God.

Pioneer 2 is down! We've lost our air!

They're boxing us in!

All units, fan out! I repeat, all units, fan out!

I want SAMs on that thing! Light him up! Light him up!

He's coming around. Get those .50s on him!

Incoming!

Hold on!

You okay?

Yeah, but my leg is pinned. What the hell was that?

Come on, we gotta get in this fight.

Careful, my leg!

Come on, buddy, let's go. Let's go, get up, come on!

Duke, you gotta protect those warheads!

Shut up! I gotta get you out of here first!

Fire at the opening! Right side, right side!

Get up, get up, get up, get up!

My damn leg!

- You wait here, okay? - Where are you going?

I gotta go get that case.

Air Force, right.

Don't move!

- Hello, Duke. - Ana?

Now, you have to admit, you had that coming.

Ana!

Ana!

Bye-bye.

Ana! Ana!

Don't make me shoot a woman.

Incoming!

Whoa!

Stand down. Stand the hell down!

- Put the weapon down, sir. - We're not the enemy.

Pointing your weapons at me doesn't make you my friend, now, does it?

Please hand over the case, sir.

I don't know you, and I sure as hell don't know who they are,

and until I find out, I'm not lowering anything

and I ain't handing anything over.

If it weren't for us, you'd be out there with the rest of your boys.

- So hand over the case. What's your unit?

That's classified.

Someone would like to have a word with you.

State your name and rank.

- You first. - My team just saved your life, son.

This is the part where you get to say thank you.

Those aren't the words that come to mind right now.

I wasn't told anything about any support for this mission,

so why don't you tell your team to stand down?

We could turn this into one big turkey shoot.

Yep.

Or not.

Easy, Ripcord.

- How do you know me? - Expert marksman,

second in your battalion. Weapons specialist, jet qualified.

- I told you. - Not now, Rip.

My name is General Clayton Abernathy.

Perhaps you've heard of me, Duke.

General Hawk. Afghanistan, NATO forward command.

Yeah, that was my last job.

- I'm in a whole new outfit now. Uh-uh.

Hey, I just need to deactivate the tracking beacon for security.

Put down that weapons case, son,

and let us deliver those warheads.

No way. I signed for them.

It's my mission, my package. I carry them, I deliver them.

Well, that's just fine,

but you seem to be a little short of transportation right now,

so my Team Alpha will deliver you to me.

And where exactly are you, sir?

Come see for yourself.

I thought all you Special Ops guys were tough.

We are tough. But we're also sensitive.

I got it. Thanks.

Wow, this is some primo stuff here.

Hey, bro, you got some real lifelike hair over there.

And a kung fu grip.

Lie down. Okay.

What kind of outfit is this, anyway?

It's not regular Army, based on all the accents.

You're British. What are you, French North African?

Morocco. Where were you born?

Duke wasn't born. He was government-issued.

What about you?

- He doesn't speak. - Why?

He doesn't say.

He doesn't say. So, somehow you're all in the same unit,

but one you can't tell me the name of, right?

We'd get tossed for telling.

You're gonna go after those guys that hit my convoy, huh?

Well, whoever you are and whatever this unit is,

I want in.

General.