"In the crew's quarters, hiding under the bed, but things seem to be in a bad situation......"

Bad is bad! He's a living man! Taylor seemed to see a glimmer of light in the fog, knowing that since the whole ship was inexplicably hanging, it was the greatest achievement to be able to figure out the ins and outs.

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 members.

The location of the dormitory is not far from the power compartment of the engine, which is the dormitory of ordinary sailors, and the officers' bedrooms are all in the front position, and the conditions are 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 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, and our own people ......"

"What's going on!?" Taylor suddenly felt that he was too early to be happy, and there was an oppressive atmosphere in the dormitory, definitely not the kind of joy that should come after a successful rescue.

"SIR......" a SAS team member pointed to the bottom of the bed and said, "I am alive under the bed, and I refuse to come out, as if I am too 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 the 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...... Monster...... There are monsters everywhere......" The sturdy sailor was like a chicken caught up in the icy water, shivering, his tall body rolled into a large shrimp, and his hands rattled the steel legs of the iron bed.

"Soldiers! I order you to get out of this damn bed right now! The explosive temper of the Taylor soldier came up, and in his eyes, even if a soldier died, he could not fall to such a point of disgrace.

He reached out and tried to grab the sergeant and pull it out.

"Ahh Don't touch me! You devil! The sergeant suddenly became agitated, and slammed 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 hurt, and he swallowed it and dragged the mad sergeant out of 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 a few SAS 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 twisted desperately like a fish struggling on the ground, slamming the surrounding beds into ping-pong.

A paramedic ran into the dormitory, and when he saw this chaotic situation, he knew what was going on without asking, and in the past, there were many times when he carried out the order to infiltrate, sometimes to capture some important people, and no one would obediently tie his hands and arrest him, 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 to the bend, "Take him to the deck, give him some water to wash, he looks like a pig in a pigsty, not a soldier of our Royal Navy!" Signal Soldiers! Immediately inform headquarters, we have found a living mouth, but there is a mental problem, and it is recommended that it be taken 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 any cigarettes?" ”

The second lieutenant was a little dazed, 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.

A question kept swirling in his mind - what terrible thing was going on here?

“SIR！” The sergeant sent to repair the communications equipment ran to the deck, saluted, and said, "I found something interesting, and I think you must be interested in hearing about it." ”

"What's that?" Taylor looked at Sergeant Communications quizzically.

"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 the PAD." The communications sergeant plugs in a small PAD, presses a few keys, and a call log comes out of it.

"Command Center! Call the Command Center! Our ship hit an iceberg, the hull was badly damaged, the middle sealed compartment was flooded, and the hull was sinking......"

"What are these things......

"Command Center...... We've been attacked by monsters...... Request for reinforcements ......"

Then came the rustling sound, gunshots, and screams, and after a few minutes, everything was calm.

"What is this?" Taylor was confused.

Sergeant Communications also shook his head and said, "I don't understand either...... It's close to the African coastline, and it's near the Banana Islands, so it stands to reason that there won't be 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.

Could it really be that a monster attacked this spy ship with the M606 number? If this is the case, why did everyone in a boat die from gunshot wounds? And at least a thousand shots were fired, and not a single monster was injured? Not a trace left?

It's so paradoxical!