Untitled - Prologue part 1Mature

24th October 2008, 1800 hours
Centre of Oceanography and Nautical Research, Alaska, USA

A moment of peace…
      Richard Granger reclined in his black leather chair and removed his glasses. It wasn’t easy being the director of a marine technology and monitoring centre on such a large scale as this. He looked longingly at the steaming cup of bliss on his mahogany desk, the aromatic smell of coffee filling his nostrils, begging to be drunk. He’d been waiting for a moment like this for the majority of the day; a moment to himself, were he wasn’t being bombarded by the countless members of his staff asking multitudes of questions that revolved around the field of marine technology and machinery.

Reaching toward the polystyrene container, Granger felt a rush of cool air as the door to his office was pushed open.

“Dr. Granger?” The director suppressed a sigh and replaced his glasses.

“Good evening professor Ralston, how can I be of service?” Director Richard Granger sat straight-backed in his chair and placed his interlocking hands on the polished surface of the desk. 

      Professor Ralston was the superior analyst of the UMAA (Undersea Monitory of Acoustic Apparatus) department. And she was damn good at it too. The UMAA were responsible for monitoring and analysing data received from hydrophones and sonobuoys distributed in various areas around the globe. Using this equipment, the analysts were able to pinpoint the exact location of any object in that specific area, such as a passing vessel. It was because of this application in particular that meant the military were so highly interested in the organisation.

      The woman adjusted her skirt. Granger looked her up and down in adulation. He’d always admired her...He’d often wondered , as she stood there in nervous anticipation, if she knew how much he appreciated not only her work, but also her strong academic presence in his life. Her grey-blue eyes looked up at him through expensive, dark rimmed glasses, animating her exquisitely sharp features. She absent-mindedly brushed a stray piece of auburn her from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. Ralston cleared her throat.

“Well, you see…There have been a number of anomalous readings showing up on the North Atlantic sonar monitors. According to the data we have just received, the hydrophones have detected a collection of sub-vessels that are currently unidentifiable, supposedly just off the coast of Iceland.”

The professor stopped and inhaled.

“Basically, what I’m trying to say is, there are a bunch of ‘toys’ out there in that ocean, and they simply aren’t ours.” 


The End

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