On the PILE OF WEAPONS from Barclay, Beaufort, Burley, and Callow, now in a heap outside the captain’s cabin.
SABRE standing at the map table, the LANTERN’S glow, her PISTOL pointed at PAYNE, seated on the COUCH.
BARCLAY, BEAUFORT, BURLEY and CALLOW all filing in.
On PAYNE and the rest, seated on the couch. None of them are pleased, but PAYNE is quietly fuming. This is not what they expected.
On SABRE. She’s cocked her elbow, raising her point of aim upwards. A sly smile. The MAP CASE in her other hand.
1. SABRE: Now then, let us chat, shall we?