[Subtitles by danielsangeo]
Arr, this scalawag be
a right thorn in me side.
Eh, okay, that's enough of that.
I've got another 20 years
and a lot of whiskey drinking
before my voice sounds
like that normally.
So, do I still have problems?
This sounds like a job for
Ambassador Pineapple.
You'll be representing me on the floor.
Now, go out there and work your magic.
Oh, sounds like we came to a resolution.
Well, I'm glad everything worked out.
I can't just waltz out of here now;
I'm wanted!
Dammit. My beard betrayed me!
They got an ID because I'm the only
fucking scientist here with a beard.
If I'd gone with that
stupid Einstein hair,
they wouldn't be able to
pick me out from a lineup.
The first objective is to not die.
The second is...to not...
detonate this missile, I guess.
Ah! God! Damn! Jesus! Fuck!
Yeah, I guess nothing's
really changed, has it?
This is the WRONG PLACE to lay an ambush.
You don't set explosive tripmines down
then start firing automatic weapons
next to a missile, all right?
I understand you guys have hostility
issues or whatever and want to kill me,
but regardless, I would think
that weapons are the one thing
you jarheads might understand
something about.
This is suspiciously convenient.
I haven't been used to things
going my way for quite a while now.
Hey, hey, maybe it's karmic balance.
Since now I know I have much
bigger long-term problems,
I'll have less short-term ones.
No, lasers, aliens, I just
flat-out have problems.
But I'm willing to share my problems.
See? Now we all have problems.
I really do have problems, though.
Stop, stop, I command you.
There's got to be some money in
one of these rooms.
No, this is the wrong one.
Ah, thought you were sneaky, huh?
What the hell? Did it just shut
the door on me?
But I'm a great salesman!
Hi! I'm selling these fine used bullets.
Oh, it looks like you already have some,
from the looks of things.
But then why is there no--
Ah, the missus of the house!
This sale isn't going very well.
I'm just going to grab
the ammo and leave.
It smells like a vomitorium in here.
Makes you wonder what the
purpose of this room was.
I'm not even seeing a storage crate.
I can't even make fun of that.
Military intelligence aside, how
did they know I was going to be here?
Okay, that's it.
No more side-paths.
It's not like I know where I'm
going anyway,
but that security guy said I could take
this track straight to the surface.
Now, I do know he's a liar,
but so far, he's said things
that have been half-true.
So, statistically, it makes more
sense to follow the advice of a half-liar,
versus making completely random
decisions like I have been.
You just wrecked my train of thought.
Uh, I should turn my light off.
I don't think he sees me.
I don't like how liberal this guy is
about firing rockets
inside an underground tunnel.
He's playing Chicken Little and
doesn't even know it.
I don't think this guy's got an
architectural, engineering,
or even a geology degree to accurately
assess the load-bearing stress of rock
Rocky the rocket ranger....
You see, I have to kill you
before you kill yourself!
Well, either that's a hit or
he's a very good actor.
As long as he stays down, I don't
think I need to do a confirmation kill.
I'm not at that phase in my life yet.
Okay, so how do I operate this thing?
I want to blow things up, too.
Oh, I think it's out of rockets.
Oh well, guess I'm walking now.
God-damned rocket launcher....
You know, everyone's always told me
that I'm paranoid and I need to calm down.
And everyone who said that is dead.
That's the ultimate proof that
someone doesn't know
what the hell they're talking about.
"Follow my advice and you'll die
just like me! Huh-heh!"
I have the US Military spray
painting my name on a wall,
and firing a fucking
rocket launcher at me,
and people have the gall to
call me paranoid.
Anyone who doesn't listen to me
deserves the fate they get!
I should kill everyone just on principle!
See, this is what I'm talking about!
"Aliens aren't invading, Freeman.
You're just being paranoid."
"The mailman's not spying on you,
Freeman. You're just being paranoid."
"There's no society of anthropomorphic
frog people living in the sewer, Freeman.
"You're just being paranoid."
"Owls can't read your thoughts, Freeman.
You're just being paranoid."
Bet you wouldn't call me paranoid
now if you were still alive.
How about expecting five monsters
to ambush me, is that paranoid?
Oh, hey, that's nice, the tram
stopped automatically.
Well, I'm not seeing any controls, but
if this can ram a concrete divider,
then I'm sure it can handle a
simple wooden gate.
Something's tripping the
brakes automatically.
No, it's locked in there.
Well, I-- no, wait, wait, wait.
I bet the controls are down that hallway
and there are a truckload of
soldiers waiting to shoot me.
I've done this dance before.
They can keep the damned tram.
I'm really not that attached to it.
I'm not like those
Jabba the Hutt bastards
I see in Walmart scooting around
in their motorized carts.
And seeing how these clowns operate,
I'm sure that concept alone is
going to thwart their plans for a while.
I just hope they don't figure out that
laser tripmines are more effective
when you can't see the beam.
That could cause me some problems.
HECU: Echo mission is go.
I think I've just saved myself
and a lot of other people some trouble.
He is expecting me from that doorway.
Glad I didn't go that way.
So, wait, did I see another tram?
So, the noise would alert this guy,
and I'd have a grand
journey of about 30 feet.
Hm, I really am bummed that
they've identified me, though.
That means I'm a fugitive now.
So, they've probably
frozen my bank accounts.
I need to get back to
Massachusetts.
I have about $10,000 in gold buried
in Harold Parker State Forest
that I put I there for exactly
this kind of situation.
Now, I didn't anticipate I was
going to get framed like this.
I put it there so in case I got
caught embezzling,
I would have some sort of exit strategy.
Now, granted, $10,000 will
only get me so far here.
But if I can make it to India, I can live
like a king with that kind of money.
The American dollar goes a
lot farther over there.
Maim apane na'e bhagavana hum.
Mere se pahale ghutane.
I'm going to need a fake ID.
I'll check in with Eddie once I
get out of here.
He can probably hook something up for me.
I'm going to need a car, too,
but that shouldn't be too difficult.
I can just take some motorist
hostage with my machine gun
and drive to Massachusetts that way.
Going to be a long drive.
And look, there's another
gate with no switch.
So, there really was no point to
taking the--OH GOD!
That sounds like a heavier caliber gun,
and, while I admit I'm curious,
I really don't feel like another
bullet-resistance test for this suit.
Oh, my God, it goes up and it
doesn't even snap!
I should think about this for a minute.
You know, I'm really starting to
think maybe this whole thing
isn't a rescue operation.