The sloop docked by the frigate in a blind corner of the bridge, saving it from discovery, and soldiers poured out of the cabin. In a single file, they climbed aboard, but the sailor did not bother to help them ascend. Flicking his knife dry of excess blood, he waited for his true comrades, including one lancer who appeared over the deck, scouting the ship before he leapt on board. His landing was muted by the turret fire, with many others following him closely.
Upon seeing his face, the sailor stood back in relief, feeling the cold air that had been trapped in his lungs being repulsed by his body. “You really left it to the last second, huh?” Lev scolded him. His facade of usual playfulness had eroded away.
However, Arber did not scowl at him like he usually did, knowing that he was the one who had suffered the most in silence. He kept a neutral demeanour and turned around to help another comrade up, who took his hand and was brought aboard. Thanking Arber, the corporal found Lev standing alone in the shadow before him, excited to see his friend again, but his expression turned from one of joy to one of guilt, remembering that he was the cause of his pain.
When the blonde-haired boy came up to him, he held onto his shoulder, hoping that he could reassure him. “Sorry, Lev.” Said Julien.
Not knowing how to react nor what to say, the Rus revealed a brief smile. “Yeah…” Lev muttered.
A shade appeared around the corner of the tower before anyone had noticed and froze, his adrenaline coursing through his body after he had spotted the group of infiltrators. Only Lev realised that they had been seen. Preparing to call for reinforcements, the Confederate sailor bore his dagger but his enemy was too quick.
Lev pushed Arber aside and swung his arm in a wide arc, pelting his knife at the sailor who was about to cry for help. His aim was nearly miraculous as the blade struck him in his chest, piercing through his ribs. Unable to comprehend what had happened, the sailor looked down at the blade that was lodged inside him. His heart stopped and he grew limp, collapsing onto the deck.
The black-haired Rus let out a deep sigh as the last of their allies climbed aboard. He was reminded by the shock that they needed to act fast and showed his comrades where the bridge, their first checkpoint, was, pointing at the stairs leading up to it. Julien looked around him and saw that all who were supposed to be part of their operation was present, before wordlessly dispatching Arber to cleanse the upper deck of anymore unnecessary surprises. Silently and swiftly, the lancer picked out a squad for his task and dispersed themselves across the deck, moving out in all directions while keeping to the dark. The remainder was led on in a single file as they ascended the steps, watching their flanks and rear, making sure that their position was not given away by the constant flashes of gunfire and shining signal lamps, but before they could fear anything more, they were already crouching outside the bridge.
Lev looked over his shoulder and sought Julien’s consolement but it was clear that he had to be the one to do it. A bead of sweat ran down his temple as he placed his hand on the handle. He counted down in his head before turning the knob of the door and stormed into the bridge with a dozen men in tow. The sailors and the commander of the ship turned toward where the wind and rain had broke in and before they could unsheathe their arms, they found themselves held hostage by blades pressed against their necks. Lev was the only among his squad who was unarmed and saw that the commander was his foe. They spotted a sabre and a revolver laying by the control panels and raced to arm themselves before the enemy could. Lev swept the revolver into his hand and the commander reached for his sabre, but when he wanted to draw his blade, he felt a cold steel barrel being pressed against his head.
The commander froze and looked up at Lev, whose had seen too many near misses in a single day. “Mačodz, kos bjatsau tu domau darau? (Sailor, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?)” Keeping a vigilant eye on the trigger, he leaned away from the gun.
“Viner godav skědjř, kaptejn. (I think that’s pretty obvious, captain.)” Lev cocked its hammer, his hand shaking. “Měer dzagau tur peldvěš. (We’re commandeering your ship.)” The corporal revealed his intentions to the oblivious man.
His men, similarly held hostage, stared at the captain, waiting for his command. Their hands were raised, keeping away from antagonising the ununiformed infiltrators, but they were itching to fight back.
Finally catching on to the situation, the captain gritted his teeth. “Ta, tuer nodayu tur tauta wor měm tsjvjljdzněav nelěta? (So, you’re going to betray your motherland for these barbarian peasants?)” Despite what was happening around him, he tried to shift his allegiance.
Lev softly shook his head, offering him a chance to surrender;. However, he knew it was unlikely. The Rus were proud, and they would rather die before admitting defeat, and the commander was no different when he suddenly unsheathed his sabre and lunged at Lev with his crew following in his lead by bearing their daggers, even if it was futile resistance.
A gunshot rang out that echoed within the bridge, and it was resonant, sounding as if a howitzer had discharged indoors. For an instant, there was a yellowish flash. Blood washed over the panels and glass, and slaughtered before they could lift their arms up to fight, the crew slumped to the floor altogether. The bridge became quiet until Lev dropped the revolver by the commander’s corpse and the door of the opposite side swung open.
Arber entered, and his squad filtered in, met with the sight of monstrous bloodshed, but he could not deny that he was somewhat surprised that they had managed to secure the bridge before he had completed his task.
Julien recovered his breath and sheathed his sword. “Did everything go as planned?” Sickened by the scent of raw flesh, he covered his mouth and asked Arber.
“There weren’t as many as we thought.” The lancer wiped his blade on his sleeve and recalled. “The rest should be below deck.” Promptly sheathing his sword, Arber replied.
As Lev moved towards the control panel, he peered out of the window, blurred by a waterfall of rain. “Good. We should move before anyone finds out.” He stated, his anxiety slowly showing.
At the wheel, he was sure how to pilot a ship, but everything was in Rus. The boy may have spoken the language, but he could not read it and noticed that the telegraphs were for different orders for different parts of the ship. He fiddled around with levers and buttons, wondering what each did, and he could only hope he had not accidentally sounded the alarm.
Crossing his arms, Arber looked at his face, which was in worry. “Do you even know how to pilot a ship?” Unconvinced that he was the best for the job, he added to his nerves.
“I just need you to be quiet, then I’ll figure it out.” Lev berated him, holding up a hand to silence his useless input pecking at his head. “In any case, we might be blown to bits before our plan could ever be put into action.” He mumbled to himself, but everyone heard him.
Julien approached him, holding his shoulder. “That’s not reassuring…” Looking around, he could hardly fathom what any of the commands did or meant.
Even if he hated the act of thinking too hard, he was the only one within that bridge who was capable of decoding the panel. He linked certain alphabets together which he had seen twice or more and created a decrypting machine in his head when he began to see what each button did, but there was one which he had passed by many times that had drawn him towards it. He risked pulling on the lever, praying that it would not be the thing that killed him. His hand was still, and he gulped, but nothing disastrous changed, and the alarms did not sound. After a brief delay, the turrets stopped firing and slowly spun to face the bow.
As if the frigate had become his new favourite toy, Lev smirked. “Nothing about this plan’s been reassuring to begin with.” He looked over his shoulder and said to his comrades.
His eyes lay ahead as he tightly held onto the wheel of the ship. He pushed on another lever, and as another delay ensued, the signal was passed down to the crew below deck. The entire vessel began to vibrate, and those who had never been on any sea-going machine larger than their sloop grew nervous, not knowing what caused the floor and walls to rumble. Hearing the engines’ pistons, Julien rallied beside Lev, and taking in a deep breath, they pushed forward into the fog’s darkness.297Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRRiTgg4nMb
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