Looking at DRUM. He’s in a seated shooter’s position — that was one hell of a shot he just made. We’re in tight, can’t quite tell where he is yet. His cheek is still against his rifle, still looking down the sights.
Stet, but DRUM is raising his head. He looks quietly satisfied with his work, even pleased with himself. It was one heck of a shot.
We’re pulling back now, slightly. We can see the edge of DRAKE standing beside him.
1. DRAKE/off: Don’t look so mighty pleased with yourself, Keyton…
Now DRUM starting to get to his feet, DRAKE offering him a hand. Neither are looking at the other, but rather past us, at the activity on the Glory.
2. DRAKE: …I could’ve made that shot myself.
On DRUM. Slight smirk.
3. DRUM: You are a liar, Miles Drake.
4. TAILLESS/small/off: Alarm! Alarm!