"I know what I saw, Tovarisch," Napoleon asserted, for the third time. "That ship disappeared right in front of my eyes. One minute it was there, the next, gone."
"Napoleon, I do not doubt that you believe what you saw," Illya said carefully. "But you had been adrift in that lifeboat for almost three days. Having no food or water probably caused you to hallucinate. Large cargo vessels do not simply evaporate into thin air. I suggest you put it behind you, my friend."
Solo huffed. He was absolutely certain that the Pelagic Trader had been a very real and solid ship. He was equally as certain that it had blinked out of existence as he looked on. This fact had been left out of his report, as he didn't wish for Waverly to send him for a psyche exam, but he had revealed it to his partner.
As he'd expected, Illya hadn't believed him; his Russian friend was far too sceptical for that. Napoleon was grateful, however, that Illya hadn't mocked him.
"I've got a meeting with Waverly," Napoleon said suddenly. "See you in the commissary for lunch?"
After Solo left the office, a shudder ran through Illya, as memories of his navy days surfaced.
He had been quite young when the captain of his submarine had volunteered him to be part of a four-man boarding party. They were to investigate the apparently abandoned vessel and discover what had happened to the crew.
Once on board, Illya and his comrades had quickly searched the ship and found absolutely nothing. Most places, whether on land or at sea, showed some evidence of any human habitation. The submariners hadn't even found so much as a cigarette butt. It had been as though, instead of being abandoned, it had never been crewed.
It wasn't until the young men had decided to head back to their own vessel that they'd heard something.
Low, long moans reverberated around the ship, bouncing off the metal containers, and causing a deep dread in the hearts of the four young men. The moans had then transformed into words which, although not in Russian, were understand by the men.
"WELCOME TO THE CREW!"
A mist had risen up from the sea and swirled around the terrified young men, seeming to penetrate through their clothing and into their skin.
None of them spoke, but somehow agreed to start running. They'd made it to their dirigible in record speed and, as they'd hurriedly rowed away, the ship vanished. One second it had been there, the next it hadn't. Once back aboard the submarine, the young sailors had given their reports, barely believing it themselves. If the captain hadn't seen the ship disappear for himself, he would have dismissed the reports as fanciful. Instead, he had ordered his whole crew to never mention a word of it to anyone.
Despite what Napoleon had witnessed, Illya decided to keep obeying the order to never talk about what happened with the Pelagic Trader.