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Morgan had been used to making friends and getting attention...

Pellington turns to his communications officer. "Open a line to the rest of the crew."

"Yes sir." The officer pushes several buttons then turns back to the admiral. "It's ready sir."

Pellington picks up the microphone and speaks into it, "Attention crew, this is Admiral Pellington. I am addressing you this evening because of an important matter that has come up. Right now as I speak two special agents are hunting down the saboteur. However, this ship is in danger of being sent to the bottom of the sea. That is if these two agents are not successful. Now I am not asking any of you to stay, you are more than welcome to evacuate the ship. I plan to stay with any of you that wish to also. We are at war gentlemen and if this ship falls it could mean the loss of this battle. We may be crippled but we are the lifeblood, the heart of the armada and I will not give up. Let your immediate commander know your intentions so that we can secure your evacuation."

Pellington sets down the microphone and waits. Within just a few minutes the commanders of each crew throughout the ship replies that none of the men are going to leave and plan to see the battle to its end. No matter how the end came. Pellington smiles at the bravery and loyalty of his men to both him and their country. "God help us all," he says low under his breath. "God help us all."

--



Sam? Do you copy?" he says into the headset. "Damn it. Sam if you hear me, I'm headed your way."

Spencer races through the ship as fast as his legs will carry him. Each footfall rings through the corridor almost as loudly as the motion detectors. The noise doesn't concern him at the moment. If anything he hopes the noise will draw the demon to him rather than Sam. It was now just a matter of getting to her before the demon does.

--



Sam? Do you copy? Sam if you hear me, I'm headed your way."

Sam hears Spencer over the headset and shakes her head. "Damn it Spence, can't you just sit still?" she mutters.

After inspecting the engine room and determining the demon was through with his business there she treads her way toward the gunnery storage. She sloshes through nearly two feet of water which she determines is seeping through a small crack in the hull. She presses on keeping her senses on alert. The lighting is dim enabling her to only be able to see just mere feet ahead of her. Thankfully the engines are down to lower the amount of noise that would normally be filtering throughout the deck.

A few times she has to step over or through bodies of dead crewmen but they are nothing compared to the amount of bodies piled in the engine room. She feels a twinge of sorrow for all these men but quickly dismisses the feelings as not to cause distraction.

Sam turns a corner with her gun held high and at the ready and is instantly blinded by the intense light flowing out of the room ahead of her. Blinking several times her eyes slowly begin to adjust. "Son of a bitch," she says under her breath.

Blue and red spots float around in her vision as she enters the storage room. The room is packed with gunnery supplies and shells and is otherwise empty. Sam scans the room looking for any hiding spots or traps and sees nothing.

How can he not be here?

Demons are able to teleport short distances and into most places; places not protected by a ward. Sam was careful to have tracked the demon but no matter how careful, it was able to slip past her.

A noise comes from behind her and her first thought is Spencer. So she spins around with her weapon lowered. A mistake she'd never make if she made it out alive. She is lift by her throat, the gun knocked from her hand and she is carries backward until her back slams into the bulkhead.

Stupid human. When are all of you going to learn?

The demon somehow looks different to her than any she has encountered before.

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