13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

This marks the end..

of a long and painful chapter for the people of Libya...

who now have the opportunity to determine their own destiny...

in a new and democratic Libya.

Warring gangs continue to raid...

Gaddafi's abandoned armories...

as a battle rages in Libya's two largest cities.

It's loaded.

How's the team here? Good.

Three ex-Marines, one ex-Army Ranger.

It's nice having another team guy around.

Good to see you, brother.

Good to be back.

Oh, man, it's hot!

How are the kids, Jack?

They're good.

They send their love.

Can you believe Emily's about to start kindergarten?

She dating yet?

You better watch your mouth.

I thank God I got three boys, man.

You're in for a rough ride, Jack.

Payback's a bitch, and her stripper name is Karma.

You come up with that on your own?

I saw it on a T-shirt in Mexico.

Hey, check this out.

Remnants of the revolution, man.

Is Becky still mad at me for dragging you into contracting?

Oh, come on. She's mad at me, she's not mad at you.

I'm part of the old crowd, the old Jack.

The new Jack carries a diaper bag, instead of an M4.

Is this coming from Tyrone Woods...

dental nurse, who works for his wife?

Guess what? Not out here, brother.

How's the real estate business?

Pretty bad.

How bad is that?

I'm here, aren't I?

Well, this place sucks, Jack. Not only is it hot as balls...

but you can't tell the good guys from the bad guys.

Shit. No, no, no, this isn't good.

Fuck!

Who the fuck are these guys?

What do we got?

The brigade we coordinate with is the February 17th Martyrs.

This ain't them.

Shit, we're boxed in.

Are we bailing?

Base, this is Rone.

This is Rone. Come in. Over.

This is base. Go, Rone.

I'm in a jam off Fifth Ring Road.

I'm looking at about eight armed Tangos, here.

Copy that. Sit tight.

"Sit tight." That's great advice.

They got a KPV.

Base, we ain't got all day.

Hey, Rone. They're trying to get Feb 17...

to back you up, but we're coming.

Hey, Oz, I'm in a jam off Fifth Ring.

Ty.

Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.

Fuck that.

The only Quick Reaction Force I want, is my guys.

No. Contact 17 Feb QRF.

Send them! I want my guys.

Tell them they're not allowed to leave the base.

Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.

Maybe I'm not making myself clear.

I'm looking at multiple radical insurgents...

with AK's and a .50-cal technical...

set to blow my Rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.

It's not my call, brother.

Here we go.

Welcome to Benghazi.

Salaam.

Libyan visa.

Official. Libyan government.

Friendly? Hmm? Friendly?

Pull over for inspection.

No.

Pull over for inspection!

I'm sorry, sir, I can't do that.

Look up.

Go ahead, look up. You see the drone?

No? That's all right, because the drone sees you.

Sees your face.

We know who you are.

If anything happens to us, your home...

your family, boom, gone.

Give the order to let us go.

I want the car!

No, I'm not gonna do that.

Look,

I earn right to decide the future of my country.

You're talking to the wrong guy.

How willing are you to die for your country?

I'm ready to go, right here, right now.

Leave here while you still can.

We got air support?

We don't have any fucking support.

Check the new rides. Gaddafi had a going-out-of-business sale...

on armored vehicles.

Max-level armored, man.

We got a great deal.

We stole them.

Sat unattended at the airport.

Hey, Chief!

I don't want to hear it, Tyrone.

Oh, no, no, I understand.

I see what you're going for, here.

Secret spy base with fortified walls, gate cameras...

and blue-eyed Westerners...

walking in and out of this place all day long.

But if you want to avoid...

That's so rude.

Can't believe he just did that to me.

Chief, if you want to avoid an international incident...

you give me my guys when I ask for them!

Local faces need to resolve local conflicts, Tyrone.

We're guests in this country.

We're unwanted guests, Bob.

We're spies, you're security guards.

Your job is to keep us out of trouble...

not get into it, yourselves.

Well, then help me do my job and give me my guys.

Here's what you guys are good at.

Working out, eating five hot meals a day.

What you're not so good at, is doing what you're told.

Uh, I need your trace report on yellowcake, in five minutes.

It's coming.

That roadblock was run by Ansar al-Sharia.

It's not just tribal groups and freedom fighters anymore.

If you have useful intel, Tyrone, put it in a memo.

You guys bunk here...

but you're not CIA.

You're hired help.

Act the part.

Where are my manners?

Jack Silva, this is our esteemed Chief of Station.

Hey, Tig. How are the twins?

Crazy cute. Cute.

You have a move tonight.

No recon, Chief?

What makes you Special Operators so special...

if you can't do what I need, when I need it?

He's fun.

Well, that was fun.

He gets his jollies pushing around alphas because he can.

We had this commander back in Ranger school...

he was a real cockbag.

So on our last night, me and a buddy, we stole his beret.

The whole barracks chubbed it.

"Chubbed it"? Yeah, rubbed our dicks on it.

Leader was a former Gitmo detainee.

Yeah, those guys usually don't hold a grudge.

Jack. Mark Geist.

Oz. Pleasure.

Oh, brother, I'm sorry. Everybody, this is Jack Silva.

It's our third contract together, so he knows the drill.

We met training SEALs at Coronado.

How do you get them to balance that beach ball on their nose?

It's tough.

So we got three ex-Marines here and one ex-Army retard...

who likes to rub his dick on things.

Kris Paronto. Call me Tanto.

Hey, man. I'm Tig.

Tig's been here the longest...

so, he'll get you up to speed on the area.

This is Boon. Scout Sniper, Zen Master...

holder of Tanto's leash.

Welcome to Club Med.

So, it hasn't rained since June...

it's not gonna rain again until September.

You're double-bunked. Not me, because I'm in charge.

The gym sucks, food's actually good.

And the Base Chief is kind of a tool.

Well, he's a dick today. Yes.

Maybe he just needs a new hat.

Don't encourage him.

Oh, come on. He's a guy with a job to do.

He's playing his string out, but you talk to him...

Bob did some shit back in the day.

All right, Jack, this is the whiteboard...

that's gonna run your life for the next sixty days.

I want you to check it every hour...

because last-minute moves pop up every minute, such as...

we're shotgunning it in three hours. Mmm-hmm.

Three hours. I'll let you know when I'm briefed.

This was a private family compound...

owned by a wealthy Libyan who got out of town...

after the revolution and leased it to the CIA.

He was smart.

A little pungent.

Mmm-hmm.

A little spy tradecraft.

Who'd expect Americans to be hiding out...

next to a stank-ass slaughterhouse?

We call it Zombieland.

Building A, B, C, D.