HMAS AMBERLEY
1556hrs

Kate stepped down off the bridge as the crew settled in for the third run of their established patrol route. The allied forces in the region had put a tight barricade around the islands after hostilities had flared up once again. The patrols that Kate and the others from Hammersley had undertaken the last time they were here were much larger than the ones they were undertaking now. More vessels had been called in to provide an almost solid line of patrols around the islands. Patrolling west of the Amberley's position was the British Royal Navy patrol vessel HMS Severn while to the east was the French ship Suffren.

As she returned to her cabin to update her logs she was pleased that the day had thus far passed without incident. The boarding of the abandoned FFV had been textbook and while the two crews aboard Amberley were still keeping their distance from one another they were, for now at least, working together. Satchwell on the other hand had maintained his distance from everyone even his own people and yet the Kingston crew seemed to be showing him unquestioned loyalty. It was something she couldn't quite fathom.

She arrived at her cabin door and reached out with her right hand to push down on the handle. She suddenly recoiled. Her heart felt a jolt. It was strange. As her hand neared the brass of the handle she felt a cold snap over the top of it almost like she was putting her hand into freezing cold water. She had noticed this several times at different places all over the ship. Maybe it had something to do with the ventilation? Whatever it was she was getting annoyed by it. It was a nuisance that was adding to an already volatile atmosphere.

In defiance she slammed her hand down on the brass and opened the door to her cabin. The door slowly creaked open and she found herself staring into her empty quarters. So why then was she hesitating to enter? She felt like she was in a cheesy horror movie where the monster was about to jump out at her and yet as silly as it seemed to her she was hesitating from entering. Like she had done with the handle she knew the only way to approach this was head-on and so she took a deep breath and charged in.

Nothing happened.

She closed the door behind her, feeling foolish about it all as she did so, before taking her seat at her desk. She took out her log book and placed it down in front of her. Picking up her Parker pen she began to write the latest entry in the story of the Amberly when suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Damn it!" she uttered before dropping the pen onto the book. "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal Buffer looking more like a nervous schoolboy than a hardened sailor. She only had to land her eyes on him for a split second and she knew that he was here as a personal friend, perhaps more, and not anything to do with the operations of the ship. He simply couldn't hide it and he showed no intention of any pretence. He quickly rushed in and closed the door behind him.

Kate tried to remain composed but found her self leaping to her feet at the sight of him. It was as if his own anxiousness was emanating from him and reflected in her.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her with a tone of concern.

"Yes of course it is," she replied. "How are the crew holding up?"

"Which one?" he joked in a not-so-funny way. "Sorry ma'am. Everything seems to be ok for now. I think everyone's just settled into it."

"Everyone still talking about Scooter?"

"I'm still the prime suspect," he declared raising his arms in frustration.

"I don't believe that for a second. That you had anything to do with it I mean. If Bomber says you were with her all night then I guess that's the truth." Kate's tone hinted that there was a question hidden inside it. Buffer picked up on it.

"You know that all I did was sleep on her sofa, don't you?"

"Of course," she said. He's lying. "What?"

"I didn't say anything," said Buffer.

"Nevermind, probably nothing."

"Would it have mattered if it wasn't all that happened?" he asked almost daring himself to utter the words afraid of the answer he might get. He knew he was testing the water. He wanted to do it if only to examine just how deep this new relationship of theirs was or whether it was a passing thing.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what are we, Kate? I want to be close to you but it doesn't feel that way now. We slept in each other's arms right there on that bunk but since I was arrested…"

"Is that what you think ?" she asked almost disgusted by what she thought he was suggesting. "You think I don't believe you about Scooter don't you?"

"Don't you?" he asked, his voice pleading with her for solace.

She marched up to him. He braced himself for what he thought would be the inevitable and justified slap across the face. She threw her arms around him and she kissed him. Her touch was tender and loving. The kiss was soft but powerful. She unlocked her lips from his and rested her forehead on his shoulder locking him in her embrace.

"I can't believe you would do something like that. I won't believe it."

"Fool!"

Her ears twitched as she thought that for a moment she had heard a voice but she passed it off, her mind was too fixed on him to worry about something she might have heard even if it was a little confusing.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you," he whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling her seductively. The warmth was suddenly replaced by a gentle chill against the skin on the back of her neck. Carried on the breeze that had brought the chill was a sound. It was a sound of laughter. She couldn't ignore it this time because now it was too clear to pass off as her mind playing tricks with the sounds aboard a patrol boat.

"What is that?" she growled through gritted teeth as she pulled angrily away from him looking around her cabin for the source of the sound as if it were hiding from her somehow.

"What's what?" he asked.

"Someone's laughing. It's like…a child."

"A child?" he said his eyebrows lowering quizzically.

" - Leave them alone."

"There!" gasped Kate. "Did you hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything." He was getting more confused but above all worried for her. He was beginning to wonder if the stress was starting to get to her and that he had somehow made it worse.

"That one was different. It was older somehow."

The hairs all over Kate's body stood on end as the child's laughter that only she could hear echoed once more in her ears.

" - Why are you punishing them? I am the one who hurt you," said the older voice.

"I don't care. It'll be over soon."

"There are people talking," explained Kate.

"Probably the TV from the enlisted mess," said Buffer trying to explain what she was hearing.

" – Get away from here! Now!"

"I'll be back!"

Kate suddenly felt herself pushed to the side. Invisible hands, icy cold in their touch, grasped her left arm and shoved her sideways onto the bed as it dashed passed her. Buffer rushed to her aid feeling only the cold residual air the entity left as it made its escape.

"Kate!" he yelled with worry.

She had landed front down onto her bunk, her blond hair falling untidily over her face. Leaning over her he helped her back up until she was sitting on the side of her bunk before kneeling down in front of her. He brushed her hair aside and looked into her eyes before again asking if she was ok.

At this close distance he watched as the pupils of her eyes dilated into big black saucers staring blankly over his right shoulder in the direction of the door. Noticing this he began to turn his head to see what it was she was staring at.

"No!" she gasped almost breathless with fear. "No, don't!"

"Kate, what's the matter?" he demanded trying to shake some sense out of her. "Tell me for God's sake!"

"Pete, listen to me very carefully," she said slowly almost in a breathless fear fuelled whisper. "I want you to slowly turn your head over towards the door. Very slowly, do you understand?"

"Why? Kate, what's the matter?"

"I need you to tell me something."

"What?" he barked getting angry. "What Kate?"

She took a deep breath, so deep it seemed to suck in all the oxygen around them, before she answered nervously, "There's a man standing by the door. He's wearing a white Navy-style shirt with dark trousers and a cap. He's got Commander's bars on his shoulders. I need to know if you can see him. Do it carefully."

Buffer's heart seemed to rise up into his mouth as he fought for his own breath. He did as he was told and slowly began to turn his head to the right. His eyes seemed to drag across the wall opposite them as if they were acting like anchors trying to stop him. As his head turned through ninety degrees the side of his face became cold to the touch like on a cold winter's morning. He began to shudder. It was now like being in a freezer and someone was turning down the temperature. As his head reached the maximum it would turn on its own he slowly began to rotate his body so he could see the rest of the way.

There he was! Exactly how Kate had described him.

Before Buffer could react the man looked at them, his face pale white and his eyes seemingly empty as though his skin were a suit that no one was wearing. His mouth began to move and words were soon slithering out from between his lips. He spoke in a smart American accent.

" - I can't hold him for long. You don't have much time."

His skin began to peel away and turn to powder, first his nose and then his cheeks before his head began to break apart. The rest of his body quickly followed, the powder-like remains being carried through the door on some undetectable wind. As quickly as he appeared he was gone.

Buffer slowly and nervously rose to his feet trying desperately to comprehend what he had just seen. He walked carefully towards the spot where the man had stood looking for any trace someone had been there but there wasn't any. The temperature in the room seemed to be back to normal but as Buffer placed his hand on the door which the man disappeared into it felt like he was touching a refrigerator.

"That was Christopher," she said rising onto her rather wobbly legs.

"W-Who is he?"

"He was the captain of this boat when it was in the U.S. Coast Guard."

"Then who is the other one he was talking about? The one that was laughing."

"I don't know," she said walking up to him. "But I think we should be very afraid of him. Of…IT."


STEAMING PARTY

Rawlings sat at the wheel of the fishing boat that slowly chugged its way towards the Samaru Islands. He was having to keep alert for any vessels in the area, not easy given the limited view from the bridge, the vessel lacking any radar. His efforts were curtailed by the constant snoring of Botcher in the seat opposite. Every grunt seemed to drill a hole into the side of Rawlings' head.

After two hours of listening to the rising and falling Botcher's nostrils he'd had enough. He reached over and kicked Botcher in the left leg rudely waking him from his heavy slumber.

"Hey! It's your watch!"

"Alright, alright," grumbled Botcher as he stirred in his seat.

Botcher slowly rubbed his eyes before dragging himself out of the chair and walking slowly towards the helm. Although it wasn't very sailor-like of him Rawlings just let go of the wheel and walked away leaving Botcher to slither his chubby hands onto it.

"We're still eleven hours away from Samaru," Rawlings said taking the seat left warm by Botcher. "Make sure you check in with Amberley in half an hour."

"I know my job," rebuked Botcher.

"Really!" gasped Rawlings. "What's that exactly, hmmm, professional slumber party organizer perhaps?"

Botcher turned to face Rawlings and launch into a tired, sleep-interrupted fury when his mouth burst open with blood as the bridge of the vessel erupted with the sound of glass and gunfire. Rawlings dived onto the deck for cover just as the dead body of Botcher landed beside him, his lifeless eyes staring at him.

Rawlings could hear the sound of a high speed engine coming up along side them before the sound of boots jumping onto the wooden deck outside the wheelhouse caused him to make a run for the radio. He took hold of the handset and climbed underneath the chart table as he squeezed the transmit button and yelled into it, "Mayday, mayday, this is Echo Nine-Seven calling Amberley. We've been boarded by hostiles." As he continued to speak into the microphone he saw a man of Asian-oriental origin rushing towards him, an AK-47 rifle in his hands. "Our coordinates are One-One-Sev-."

The butt of the AK-47 rammed against the side Rawlings head sending him onto the deck. The handset swung on its chord over his unconscious body as the man looked down at his victims. Suddenly the radio crackled into life. Expecting to hear the sound of an Australian radio operator trying to make contact with their steaming party the man was surprised to hear what he likened to the sound of a laughing child.