Page 29 of Wild Tempest

“Somebody needs to stay behind and mind the tug,” I told her. “JD and I will do a recon pass and make sure the Morya is safe. Then we will return, and I’ll bring you back to the research vessel.”

“What about the gold?”

“I’m not going to run off with it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No. I’m not worried about that. I just want to get aboard that ship and see what happened.“

“Trust me. We will come back for you.”

JD and I boarded the rigid inflatable. He took the helm and fired up the twin outboards. I cast off the lines. The sea was relatively calm. Jack navigated away from the tug, and we plowed through the swells toward the research vessel. It was maybe a half mile away.

We cruised through the foggy air, mists of saltwater spraying. The closer we got, the more creepy the sensation.

Jack circled the boat, doing a recon pass.

There were no signs of life.

The hull stepped down in sharp notches from the foredeck to the aft working deck. An “A” crane loomed over the aft deck, with a TK 4 crane beside it. A knuckle-boom crane on Level 02 came in handy for launching submersibles and loading gear into the cargo hold.

Jack approached the stern and pulled alongside the massive ship. I threw a grappling hook over the gunwale and tugged on it, making sure it was secure. I shimmied up the knotted line and climbed over the gunwale to the aft deck. I brought up a line from the tender and tied it off on a cleat. Then I dropped down a ladder, and JD climbed up to join me.

Locked and loaded, with AR-15s at the ready, we cleared the aft deck, moving forward, past the cargo hatch, toward the superstructure.

The ship creaked and groaned as it swayed with the swells.

We moved up the port-side deck, past cranes and davits. The lifeboats had all been deployed. Though I'd never heard reports of any of the crew being rescued.

Paint bubbled and peeled. Once the pride of the Russian research fleet, it was now a hunk of floating scrap metal.

My first clue that something had gone terribly wrong aboard the ship was the bullet holes in the bulkhead of the superstructure. Now rusted and peeling, the action had happened quite some time ago.

Companionways port and starboard lead to Level 01, which housed crew quarters. Covered side decks ran to the foredeck. Level 02 had more spacious quarters for officers and researchers. The bridge deck was on Level 03.

We reached the centerline aft hatch to the superstructure. I opened it and swung the barrel of my rifle down the dark corridor. My flashlight beam slashed the passageway.

I stepped across the threshold, and JD followed. I didn't have to go far before I found a crewman. His withered skeleton lay on the deck, the uniform dusty and dirty. Bulletholes and bloodstains telegraphed the cause of death.

I shared another ominous glance with Jack. "What do you think happened here?”

"Pirates? Marauders? Mutiny?”

We continued down the hallway, clearing the compartments as we went. This level was home to wet labs, the main research lab, storage areas, the medical bay, the galley and mess hall, and a gym. The superstructure was a labyrinth of passageways and compartments. It would take a while to clear the entire ship.

We found more bullet holes in the bulkheads and more skeletons. Crusted blood-stained decks and bulkheads throughout the ship.

It was a horror show.

It didn’t take long to stumble across something we weren’t meant to find.

19

Beyond the door marked ROV Storage in Russian was a small staging area. Yellow positive-pressure bio suits hung from hooks. The kind of suits that had large, clear face masks and made the wearer look like an alien.

A metal gasketed door was plastered with biohazard stickers and warnings in Cyrillic.

That bad feeling twisted my gut.

The door to the airlock was ajar. Whatever was in that lab had long since breached containment.