Under Siege

That's an unsecured area.
They can access the whole ship.

Ryback. A cook.
A pain-in-the-ass cook.

Give me that.
Private Nash.
I'm glad you checked in.
I've been with the captain.

Keep Ryback under control
and don't open the door.

Tell him you're sending relief.
Tell him you are sending
somebody to relieve him.

Stand your station fast.
I'm sending someone to relieve you.

Is everything okay?
We heard what sounded like gunshots.

Gunshots? Oh, that.
Those are party poppers. Firecrackers.
Part of the party.
Stand firm until you're relieved.
-Yes, sir.
-Over and out.

Anything else you didn't tell us?
Any further memory lapses
or oversights, perhaps?

No other memory lapses
or oversights, perhaps.

There's two men. One's locked up.
I'll take care of it.

We'll handle it. Secure the galley.
Send Cates and Ziggs.

This Marine's armed.
We need more. I'll go.
Don't worry. They're professionals.
They can handle 20 Marines. . .
. . .and 1 00 cooks.
You're wrong, Ryback. You're wrong.
-They were party poppers.
-You got shit for brains.

I know they brainwashed you,
but you have to question authority.

Trust me, boy.
That's gunfire.
Free me and I'll take care of it.

I'll be relieved in a few minutes,
so just shut up and sit tight.

Something's going on.
Use your head this time.

Do what you got to do. Let me out.
Or when I'm out,
I'll shoot you myself.