"In the crew's quarters, hiding under the bed, but the situation seems to be a little bad" It's bad, it's bad, it's a living person, Taylor seems to have seen a glimmer of light in the fog, you know, since the whole ship is inexplicably hanging, then being able to figure out the ins and outs is the greatest achievement.
If you can figure it out, you will get another shining bonus in front of General Hammond.
He rushed to the crew quarters below deck with a few SAS crew members.
The location of the dormitory is not far from the power compartment of the motive, which is the dormitory of ordinary sailors, and the officers' bedrooms are all in the front position, which is relatively comfortable.
Walking through the white-painted iron roadway, Taylor quickly found the crew's quarters.
When the power was restored, it was lit up, no different from a normal boat.
Walking into the dormitory, several SAS team members were seen surrounding a small bunk bed, and one of the second lieutenant officers leaned down and seemed to say something under the bed.
"Come out we are a special air service regiment, our own people" "What's going on" Taylor suddenly felt that he was too happy too early, and there was a depressing atmosphere in the bedroom, definitely not the kind of joy that should be felt after a successful rescue.
"Sir" A SAS team member pointed to the bottom of the bed and said: "The mouth is alive under the bed, and he refuses to come out, as if he is overly frightened." ” Taylor separated from the team, walked to the side of the bed, and also leaned over: "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Taylor, the commander of SAS. ” He glanced at the soldier's rank sergeant.
"Soldier, I now order you to come out from under the bed at once, and tell me what the hell is going on."
Under the bed, a filthy, smelly sailor curled up in a corner, his hands clutching the steel pipes of the iron bed, his eyes full of horror.
A strong stench burrowed into Taylor's nostrils, and he sniffled and frowned.
Apparently the sailor was not covered with blood, but with his own excrement.
A person who rolls in his excrement like a pig is probably not mentally normal.
"There are monsters, monsters everywhere" The sturdy sailor was like a chicken fished up from the icy water, shivering, his tall body rolled into a large shrimp, and his hand rattled the steel legs of the iron bed.
"Soldier, I order you to get out of this damn bed right now," Taylor's bursting temper welled up, and in his eyes, even if a soldier died, he couldn't fall into such a humiliating state.
He reached out and tried to grab the sergeant and pull it out.
"Ah, don't touch me, don't touch me, you devil," the sergeant suddenly became agitated, and banged the bed as loudly as he could, trying to avoid Taylor's hand reaching under the bed.
In the end, the unavoidable sergeant opened his mouth and bit Lieutenant Colonel Taylor's wrist.
"Fuck" Taylor's wrist hurts, and he swallows the pain and drags the crazy sergeant out of the bed.
"Hold him down, don't let him go crazy, tie him up" Taylor managed to get rid of the sergeant's row of sharp teeth with the help of several SAS team members.
Luckily, he wore a pair of tactical gloves, a tough calfskin and mixed weave that counteracted a lot of bite, and left a row of visible tooth marks on his wrist.
"Doctor" the second lieutenant officer shouted outside the door: "Come here and give this guy a shot, damn it, this guy has gone crazy" Several SAS soldiers pushed the mad sergeant to the ground, locked his arms behind his back, took the locking strap from his tactical satchel, and tied him tightly, but even so, the sergeant still twisted his body desperately like a fish struggling on the ground, and slammed the surrounding beds into ping-pong.
A medic ran into the dormitory, seeing this chaotic situation without asking and knowing what was happening, in the past, many times the order to infiltrate, sometimes to capture some important people, no one would obediently tie their hands to capture, in this case, a strong sedative can come in handy.
After a while, the sergeant's struggle finally began to become weaker, his body became weaker and weaker, and the look of horror in his eyes gradually faded, but it was replaced by a terrible hollowness, as if someone had hollowed out his entire eyeball.
"What the hell is going on here" Taylor shook the bitten hand and kicked it on the steel leg of the bed, kicking it into the bend, "Take him to the deck, give him some water to wash, he looks like a pig in a pigsty now, not our Royal Navy soldier communications corps immediately notify headquarters, we are now alive, but there is a mental condition, it is recommended to send him to our field hospital in Freetown as soon as possible." ” When the group returned to the deck, Taylor couldn't help but ask the second lieutenant officer next to him: "Did you bring a cigarette?"
The lieutenant was a little confused, he had never seen Taylor smoke, but he did have a cigarette in his pocket, so he quickly pulled out one and handed it to Taylor.
The lieutenant colonel lit the fire, walked to the railing, and looked into the distance.
His mind kept swirling, and he wondered what terrible things had happened here The sergeant sent by "Sir" to repair the communication equipment ran to the deck, saluted, and said, "I have something interesting, I think you must be interested in hearing about it." ” "What's that?"
Taylor looked at Sergeant Communications suspiciously.
"I found some conversation logs and surveillance logs stored on the hard drive in the cockpit station, and I fixed them and put them in AD."
The communications sergeant plugged in a small AD and pressed a few keys, revealing a call log.
"The command center called the command center Our ship hit an iceberg, the hull was seriously damaged, the middle sealed cabin was in the water, and the hull was sinking" "What are these things?"
"Command center: We have been attacked by monsters, requesting reinforcements" "God, who will save us?"
Then came the rustling sound, gunshots, and screams, and after a few minutes, everything was calm.
"What a mess of calls," Taylor was confused.
The communications sergeant also shook his head and said, "I don't understand that this place is close to the African coastline, and near the Banana Islands, it stands to reason that there will be no icebergs."
Taylor's brow tightened, and from the recorded conversation, someone was indeed calling the front command center for reinforcements, mentioning that he had been attacked by a "monster", which was the same as the crazy sergeant sailor.
If this is really the case with the 6o6 number spy ship, why did all the people in the boat die from gunshot wounds and fire at least a thousand shots, and not a single monster was injured and did not leave a trace It's so paradoxical: