Spy Tugs
Spy Tugs Pic(s)
The old wooden dock groaned a low complaint with every cautious step I took. Moonlight, fractured by the scudding clouds, painted the harbor in shifting patterns of silver and obsidian. My target, the retired spy tug "Aegis," was a hulking silhouette against the glittering black water, its secrets calling to me. I could smell the damp rope and the sharp, metallic scent of the evening tide. With a heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, I grasped the cold, wet railing of the gangplank. Each creak of the weathered wood under my feet sounded like a thunderclap in the profound silence. I slipped through a half-open hatch, the darkness inside feeling thick and heavy as velvet. My fingers traced the cool, riveted steel of the corridor walls as I inched forward blindly. Somewhere deep within the vessel, a persistent drip of water echoed like a slow, steady timer. Finally, my questing hand found the cold, smooth wheel of the ship's bridge, and a triumphant, silent smile spread across my face.
Comments
Post a Comment