The Devil's Tomb

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Access the footage from Wesley.

We got to the temple this morning,

and sent the unit advisors away right after lunch.

Funny the way things work out sometimes.

The only reason we found this place

is because they were looking for weapons of mass destruction that didn't exist.

God definitely has a master plan.

The tomb was undisturbed,

but it'll probably take another couple of days to get to them.

Dr. Chandler completed his assignment this morning.

He was ready.

We all know the sacrifices we have to make. Never seems to get any easier.

I miss Moray.

This could be a chance to change things forever.

Fulton says I'm crazy, but I want to get closer.

I need to get closer.

I stopped Fulton and the others from leaving.

They scared them in.

It always starts with hallucinations.

Then what could happen?

I can't believe it's come to this.

No one can leave.

Get it out, get it out of my head.

Who do we send?

I know the perfect person.

All my life, I've been a soldier of fortune.

Did what I had to do to get the job done

and get my team out alive.

This mission shouldn't have been any different.

But it turns out, some things can't be killed with a bullet.

Dr. Cardell is on the ground. I repeat, Dr. Cardell is on the ground.

Thunderbird 307 heading back to civilization.

Have fun, boys and girls.

I could put you out of your misery, rookie.

-You ever flown combat before? -Yeah, a bunch of times.

-Videogames don't count, man. -screw you all. All you all.

Elite unit, my ass.

-Target practice, Hammer? -lt ain't loaded, boss.

Give me that.

All right, listen up. You've all been briefed about where we're going.

This is Dr. Cardell, she's here to tell us why we're going.

Meet the Angels.

Yoshi, Hicks, this is our medic, sergeant Harrington.

-You can call me Doc. -Nickels.

-Com tech. -You can call me Nickels.

This is our computer specialist, Click.

-And the big guy is... -sergeant Diego Garcia.

-I've been briefed on your unit, Captain. -ClA puke.

As you know, the research station at shabaka

was hit by a seismic event 36 hours ago.

All attempts to reestablish contact since then have failed.

And what kind of research are they doing in the middle of the desert?

-The work is classified. -That's all right, we can keep a secret.

It's an archeological site.

Its previous owners used it as a storage facility,

but when we acquired it, we found something.

something that cannot be moved,

something that my superiors say we don't need to know about.

-Yeah, same shit, different day. -What do we get to blow up?

Actually, sergeant, it's an extraction.

This is a fucking joke, right, boss?

With all due respect, honey,

but you don't need this hurricane of pain to dig a bunch of scientists out of the sand.

He's right, Mack, we're shake and bake, man, not search and rescue.

We're not here to rescue a bunch of scientists. Just one.

Who? King Tut?

Dr. Lee Wesley. Can you pass that around, please?

Nothing else is to be removed from that station. Is that clear, sergeant?

Wouldn't he have contacted somebody by now if he was still alive?

There is a safe room.

But if the quake knocked out their uplink, there's no way that...

Getting a signal, that would be impossible. Yeah.

Anything else we need to know

before we get this stupid mother-fucker out on his ass?

-Actually, there is one other thing, sergeant. -Oh, yeah? What's that?

That stupid mother-fucker is my father.

It's getting pretty nasty on the horizon. Let's load up.

-I'm hit. I'm shot. -Hicks.

-Hey, don't you let him die. -Fuck!

What the fuck happened?

It's another ClA cluster-fuck, sir. The locals aren't getting the message.

Well, next time remind me to get a translator.

-You look like shit. -sorry, boss.

-Can you move him? -I'm working on it.

-Wilcox? -He's dead, sir.

-You want this? -Get the fucking thing away from me.

Goddamn heathen.

Mack!

Buckle up and finish your smokes, ladies. It's going to be a rough one.

-What's the forecast? -Look for yourself.

We going to be able to find the beacon?

Fortunately, we got a strong signal.

Probably wouldn't be able to see anything in that shit storm.

synch on my mark. Now.

Better be ready in six hours, or you're marching out.

This wind will bore in your skin like a blowtorch. so stay tight.

-Move out. Go, go, go, go. -Go, go, go.

Move it, rookie. soldier up.

I got to go, Mack. The wind's too strong. See you in six hours.

-Base camp's been totally blown away. -stick together and find the hatch. Hooah?

Move out.

Eye on the prize, Captain.

On my mark. Three, two, one.

Clear.

Let's move it.

Hustle up.

Yoshi, clear the perimeter. Hicks, two-by-two formation.

Damn, it's hot in here.

Quit bitching, rook. It can't be no more than 80 degrees in here.

Feels like fucking Cancun to me.

-Clear. -Clear.

Clear.

Down!

-ls he all right? -Yeah.

-Give me some room. -Jeez.

-What's wrong with him? Is he contagious? -I don't know.

Hey, you know, l, I really don't want to spend a month in quarantine

when we hit stateside.

He's not febrile, all right?

If I had to guess, I mean, this looks like... Like radiation poisoning.

But I don't know.

Well, I got nothing on the Geiger counter.

What is a priest doing here?

Alfeo Jacoby. He's from The Vatican.

-I thought you were a doctor. -My doctorate's in anthropology.

Man, that's some sick-ass shit, bro.

It's like when Blakeley and l were in the swamp for two days.

-Blakeley? -Our last CO.

Yeah, we came out, our whole bodies were covered in two-inch leeches.

Feel good, having something that big in your pants, Nickels?

You want to take a little peek, huh? Kiss it?

-Mack. -All right, guys, come on.

Let Doc work her magic.

Didn't mean to hit on your girlfriend, Doc.

-You okay? -Yes. I mean, no.

-Well, which is it? -someone's in the safe room.

-ls it Wesley? -I can't tell.

There's people wandering around everywhere.

And the bad news?

Look, lady, I ain't got time for bullshit games.

If you know something, you need to spill it.

Well, the whole base is locked down.

We can't go any further without an override code.

Or a really good hacker.

-Click. -Yo.

Get over here.

We need you to get into that network and get the elevator working.

I'm on it.

Listen up, we're going down in five. Get your gear in order.

-Hey. What's up? -Cardell was wrong.

The quake didn't knock out this com system.

They got torn to shreds from the inside.

How long is it going to take for you to get it working?

Patch this up, about an hour. There's no power running to this thing.

Could be a blown relay downstairs.

Boy got skills, or what?

I can see why The Pentagon didn't cut you loose

after you hacked into their database.

Oh, yeah, you company men. Know all, see all, hear all.

Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.

Hell of a first step.

You're not going to piss yourself, are you, Click?

How deep did you say this hole was, Dr. Cardell?

-A thousand feet? -Just ignore them.

Yeah l... I'm not worried about them. It's this.

What's the Gehenna Project?

I don't know.

Yeah, it looks like a bunch of encrypted data files.

But they won't be encrypted for long.

Come on, come on, breathe. Breathe, God damn it, breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe, breathe, come on, Nate, breathe.

-You look like shit. -sorry, boss.

Mack.

We'll get you out of here, son.

-Can you move him? -I'm working on it.

-We got to pull rank, Captain. -I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

That's what happens when you get a chest wound.

What the hell are you doing?

-I'm cleaning out his airways. -That's disgusting.

-Give me that. -Here you go, boss.

-You okay? -I'm trying to get this guy stable,

but his vitals are for shit.

-Maybe he's got allergies or just bad acne. -Would you shut the fuck up?

-Mack, we got to get him out of here. -Well, can we call the chopper back?

Not in this storm, not without the uplink.

May I remind everyone, nothing is to be removed from this station.

That includes him.

You know what? That's bullshit.

No, Doctor, that's a direct order.

You know, this is exactly what you said wouldn't happen.

I'm not leaving him.

-Yes, you are. -No, I'm not. Mack, he's a priest. Okay?

That may not mean anything to you, but it does to me.

Well, set Nickels up with what he needs to do and pack your gear.

-Him? -Me?

Cardell's right. Our orders are no souvenirs. so pack your gear.

No, no, no, no, l... I ain't touching him.

-Yes, you are. -Yes, I am.