First Mate Ivan, a veteran with a resolute face who had taken part in counterterrorism operations in the Caucasus, furrowed his brow tightly. "Seeing hope of leaving this ship makes me happy, but this is completely contrary to our original orders.
"The port environment is complicated. The blizzard interferes with communications and visibility, and most importantly, there are more than two hundred living gold mines aboard." The risks of forcing an operation—
"I know the risks!" Sasha cut him off, taking a hard drag on his cigar. The ember lit the gloom in his eyes. "But those are the orders from above—the special operations team is already standing by at the port. Our colleague, and that damned thing in the Watertight Compartment, have pushed everything ahead of schedule!"
He exhaled a smoke ring and lowered his voice, as if afraid the ship itself might overhear. "This ship—from the moment we received this escort-and-surveillance assignment, I felt it was ominous. Now I'm certain. This is a cursed ship! But the people above, those gentlemen in Moscow, don't see a curse. They see an opportunity.
"Someone wants to squeeze gold from this curse, or something else—something more valuable than gold. They won't allow the secret to leak out, so they've decided to seize what's aboard before anyone else can."
His gaze shifted to chief engineer Olev, whose face was pale.
It was Olev who, after Amon had used illusions to mislead the initial inspection, relied on an ominous instinct and professional obsession to secretly enter the Watertight Compartment again—the compartment that had supposedly already been inspected.
There, he discovered red threads crawling over the bulkheads like blood vessels, as well as a "cocoon" that had been torn open from within.
It was definitely not any known marine organism or corroded piping. Even