We’re back on PEGASUS, at the QUARTERDECK. The ship has turned, at this point, crossing broad reach.
DRAKE in the FG, the GLASS raised, looking past us. He’s concentrating.
Behind him, we can see SABRE and WEST hunched over a MAP that has been hastily spread out, their backs mostly to us. Beyond them, COFFEY at the WHEEL, back also to us.
1. WEST: They still have the wind, for all the use they give it.
2. WEST: And losing our speed with the about.
Close on SABRE, looking up at WEST. The order is clear and firm.
3. WEST: They’ll try to come ‘neath us–
4. SABRE: They mean to close and board us, West.
5. SABRE: Mister Bull will bring the boilers to pressure with all speed…
Closer on DRAKE, still with the GLASS, as SABRE – past him – turns toward him.
6. SABRE: …wings not to sweep until my order—
7. DRAKE: Something’s coming.