spirits are high and the music is boisterous as these young troops celebrate -- shit. let me try that again.
spirits are high and the music is fucking motherfucking sand in my eye --
gates.
could i have some help over here, for chrissakes?
i'm trying to do a story here and the fucking sand is blowing in my face --
no, you're too busy talking about the fucking gold, which by the way makes a great story if you'd get me a goddamn lead on it --
would you just be my guide and not my fucking producer? you're my guide.
you're heroes.
you've exorcised the ghosts of vietnam with a clear moral imperative --
where the hell are you going?
i don't want you helping other reporters, goddamn it.
who's getting reemed? the shiites?
i told you he was with her --
i wanted help with the gold story, and he took off on me--
this is boring, i already did this damn story, goddamn it, where the hell is the gold?
what?
fuck that. stop the bike.
i'm at some goddamn marsh, all we've seen are russian cranes.
i think the saddam story goes more for the jugular, journalistically speaking, al. let's grow some balls and do the shiite uprising, for christ's sake.
we're going north to do the shiites.
karbala's the new hotspot, and i'm driving.
start shooting, paco.
let me handle this.
spirits are high and the music is soaring as these young troops celebrate --
i'm being held captive by iraqi troops in the gritty city of karbala, where shiite --
ok, we'll go again.
let's lay a few of these down first. in three, two, and, i'm being held captive in a gritty suburb of karbala, where shiite fundamentalists are rising up --
at least let me keep the tape.
where the hell is he going now?
in a morbid tableau these men have recovered some of the gold bullion stolen from kuwait --
that's a 75 thousand dollar camera --