SABRE has grabbed the GLASS from DRAKE, bringing it to her eye.

She’s looking grim.

1. SABRE: Give.

TWO:
POV SABRE, through the glass.

A CLOUD of BLACK SMOKE is blossoming in the distance, obscuring the view of the IRON CROWN and – more importantly – the incoming flyers.

NO COPY.

THREE:
SABRE shoving the glass back at DRAKE. She looks kind of ticked off, actually.

2. SABRE: Putting up smoke

FOUR:
SABRE turning, shouting up at the Tops.

3. SABRE: —marksmen ready!
4. SABRE: Flyers incoming!