This was yet another of the cycle of patriotic chest-beating films that captured the public's Reagan-era jingoism and gave Americans the chance to kill terrorists and communists--if not in the real world, then at least in the safety and comfort of the movie theater. The story begins as
waves of terrorists hit the beach in Florida in old WW II surplus landing craft, then pile into unmarked trucks bound for various destinations throughout the country. The terrorists are a motley bunch; some of them seem to be Vietnamese, some Arab, others Cuban or Nicaraguan. These polyglot
killers are under the command of Richard Lynch, who has what sounds like a Russian accent and ...