GORMAN: Apone, collect magazines from everybody. We can't have any firing in there... Flame-units only. I want rifles slung.
APONE: What's the position?
HUDSON: Can't lock in...
APONE: Talk to me, Hudson.
HUDSON: Uh, multiple signals... They're closing!
APONE: Go to infrared, people. Look sharp!
GORMAN: What's happening, Apone? I can't see anything in here.
RIPLEY: Pull your team out, Gorman.
HUDSON: I got signals. I got readings in front and behind.
FROST: Where, man? I don't see shit!
HICKS: He's right, there's nothing back here.
HUDSON: Look, I'm tellin ya, there's something moving in here, and it ain't us... Tracker's off the scale... They're all around us, man!
DIETRICH: Maybe they don't show up on infra red at all.
(Screams, carnage, explosions, marines ripped to pieces, set ablaze and blown up)
VASQUEZ: Let's rock!
(Heavy machine-gun fire)
GORMAN: Who's firing? Goddamnit! I ordered a hold-fire!