Somewhere deep in the North Pacific, there was a submarine. The submarine was a repurposed nuclear submarine from the days of the Cold War, still in the hands of the Russians. It was, of course, unregistered. After the need for nuclear submarines diminished, the government had “retired” one, the SS Kuchinska. They had converted it into a top secret transport vessel to be used in transporting top secret weapons or chemicals or devices of any sort that needed to “disappear.”
It was a normal run for the crew of the repurposed Kuchinska. They had been tasked with taking a large tank of chemicals to the bottom of the North Pacific, where it would be buried and never found again.
Andre was one of many men who had been secretly approached to work on the vessel. He had gladly accepted, even though it would be necessary to cut all ties with the outside world. Not that it had been difficult. He was single, he had no siblings, and his parents had died tragically when he was young. He had gone on these types of “deliveries” before. It was the same job most of the time. Eat, sleep, make sure nothing explodes, drop, bury, repeat. Keep wearing his dark green jumpsuit. But it was an enjoyable job, and he had found many close friends.
This mission was no different than any other he had been on. They had a tank of stuff that had been made in a lab. The stuff apparently didn’t do what they had wanted it to so they needed it gone.
As he ran his normal inspections of the ship and hold, all was normal. However, as he walked by a faded dial indicating the pressure in the area holding the tank, he stopped. Seconds later, an alarm sounded. There had been a malfunction resulting in the pressure rising to dangerous levels. This old ship was still old, no matter what they did to it. Soon, other men showed up, yelling in their thick Russian accents. After manipulating some levers and buttons, the pipes on the wall began to hiss. It was customary to have a second tank in a separate hold in case of an emergency. Andre didn’t even know what the liquid they were transporting was. All he knew was that it was apparently bad, as always.
Suddenly, a red light began to flash. The pipe was bursting. Wonderful. One of the other men in his mid-twenties, Yuri, ran over to the pipe to assess the damage. Right as he reached it, a small hole appeared in the pipe, splashing on Yuri. He fell back in surprise.
“SEAL THE BREACH!” Sergei yelled. Within seconds, the pipe had been closed. Andre glanced over at the dial on the wall. Of course, the pressure was now fine. He turned his attention back to Yuri. A fellow crew member was helping him up. Strangely, he didn’t seem to be wet at all. As if all the liquid had been absorbed.
“Do you feel alright?” Andre asked.
“I feel fine.” Yuri responded with one of his charming smiles. Yuri had apparently won over plenty of girls with that smile before he had joined the Kuchinska. He was certainly attractive. He had buzzed brown hair, a handsome face, and a fairly lean build.
“You should see the doctor.” someone recommended.
“Sure. I will. It’s probably nothing.” Yuri responded.
Yeah... probably.