Soldier 1: Get your bomb.
I can't see.
Soldier 2: Get in there!
Soldier 3: On the catwalk.
Soldier 4: Shoot the fire extinguisher!
Shit. Are you shitting me?
I'm going. I'm going. Man down!
Get to cover.
Soldier 5: I got a visual.
Soldier 6: Go, sir.
Soldier 5: On the catwalk!
Soldier 7: Fuck. I'm blind.
Man 1: Command, Whisky Five Four. The only units still on the ground are guarding the H.V.E. Everyone else has been evac'ed.
Man 2: Copy, Whiskey Five Four. Report back when Sergeant Becket is on board the transport.
Fettel: He is slipping through our fingers. Hurry, Brother.