I could have killed 'em all, I could've killed you. In town you're the law, out here it's me. Don't push it! Don't push it or I'll give you a war you won't believe. Let it go. Let it go!
You don't seem to want to accept the fact you're dealing with an expert in guerrilla warfare, with a man who's the best, with guns, with knives, with his bare hands. A man who's been trained to ignore pain, ignore weather, to live off the land, to eat things that would make a billy goat puke. In Vietnam his job was to dispose of enemy personnel. To kill! Period! Win by attrition.
This red earth, it's in our skin. The Shona say the colour comes from all the blood that's been spilled fighting over the land. This is home. You'll never leave Africa.
Sometimes I wonder... will God ever forgive us for what we've done to each other? Then I look around and I realize... God left this place a long time ago.
In America, it's bling bling. But out here it's bling bang.
- Are you telling me that 200 of our men against your boy is a no-win situation for us?
- You send that many, don't forget one thing.
- A good supply of body bags.