<strong>Special Forces Briefing Room</strong><br/>A group of men and women from a special forces team had gathered in a small room reminiscent of a classroom than anything else.  A projector beamed a sequence of images on to a screen on the wall, with everyone's chairs facing that way.  The man that stood next to this screen was your typical Government official.  Sunglasses, the suit, the gun in the holster and a mouth that never cracked a smile.  He spent the next little while talking and pointing at slides.<br/>"So here's what we've got.  There was a US Submarine that was sunk about ten years ago, somewhere in the Pacific.  In this region, right here.  We don't know what happened to it, but it was carrying some pretty fragile goods.  As you can probably guess, the important item that was on board was a nuclear reactor.  A big one.  A size you've only dreamed about.  You think the ones you've worked with before are big?  Think again."<br/><br/>"The submarine was a prototype that was on a test drive when it got hit.  Now we're not gonna start blaming who did what, if the Soviets were the ones that fired a torpedo or one of our own sailors just decided to blow a whole in the side for a laugh.  That's not your concern right now.  Any questions so far?"<br/><br/>Braeburn raised his hand.  "So it was the Soviets then?"<br/><br/>The speaker ignored the question, and carried on.  "It was too dangerous to lift straight out of the ocean, so we had to improvise.  We build a secure sub-station over it, you could say it acted like a safety blanket.  For the last ten years, we've had a team working around the clock to make sure nothing happened to it."<br/><br/>"But something happened.  The last communication we received was four months ago.  We sent a replacement engineering and research team down there to check what happened, but we never heard anything back from them either.  We were hoping it was just a fault with the radio, but that's not the case.  It's worse than we expected.  We think there's been a leak."<br/><br/>"But a few days ago, the radio started beeping up here but we couldn't make out what they were saying."<br/><br/>A sound file began to play through the speakers, and Braeburn listened carefully to the tune of grumbling and faint hissing.  He had been sitting casually in his chair for the past while, having been the first to arrive and taking a seat on the front row, to the right of the room.  Once again, he was the first to comment.  "Sounds like they're saying 'help... send the Special Forces!  Send them on another damn job'."<br/><br/>The Speaker rubbed his hands.  "Well, what ever it is.  We're gonna check it out.  Well... you are anyway.  I'll be in here, nice and dry, listening to some Talking Heads and waiting to hear the results."<br/><br/>"Aww... that's a kick in the baws, mate."  A Scottish voice from the back took Dominguez -- sitting in front of him -- by surprise.  It almost caused him to jerk awake from his near-sleeping state.<br/><br/>"Ladies and gentlemen... Mister Anderson here in the back row will be joining you on the expedition, you'll find he's a little reluctant to go back down there after doggy-paddling away from the scene of the crime."<br/><br/>Morris frowned.  "You're making me sound like I'm responsible for something.  What ever happened down there, I was long gone before it all got started.  I'm just coming along for the shits and giggles."  There was a certain falseness to his cockiness, as if the confidence was all talk and nothing else.  If something bad happened down there, could he really be relied on to keep it cool?  "So get on with the damn presentation.  I wanna get this over and done with."<br/><br/>The government official shook his head.  "Typical Scotsman.  Turns everything in to a fight."<br/><br/>"Typical Government wanker.  Sends someone else tae fight me when I do."<br/><br/><strong>Fisherman's Ship</strong><br/>Later that night, David Dominguez sat with his feet in the water, sighing as the coldness nipped at the diving suit.  With the flippers sitting behind him on the boat, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence for a few minutes more.  To avoid any unwanted attention, the boat was small, a converted fishing vessel that had long since abandoned the work it had originally been constructed to do.  The midnight darkness did little to help the feeling of loneliness, and the coast seemed such a long distance away.  The only light came from the lamp at the bow, nodded downwards to search for this strange building on the bottom of the sea.<br/><br/>The rest of the Special Forces team behind him were ready to go.  Unlike most of them, he wasn't really a soldier.  Not in the technical sense, anyway.  He knew how to fire a weapon and such, but he preferred to stay away from combat.  That wasn't always so easy to do, and time and time again his fingers was stroking back the trigger.  Everybody was getting their gear checked, and equipped, and in a few moments, they'd be swimming through the water.<br/><br/><strong>Moon Pool -- Submarine Station</strong><br/>The Moon Pool was a large room which served as the main entrance to the Kelvin Station.  A large square section of the floor was missing, and allowed access to the ocean.  Dominguez climbed up, and was the first to enter the room, noticing right away that the electrics were on it's last legs.  The lights frequently flashed, and areas of the room were dull and darkened.  The rest of the squad followed behind him, leaving a wet trail under their flippers.  For now, each man and woman looked nearly identical in their diving suits, with only their figures distinguishing gender.<br/><br/>Yanking away his mask and hood, Dominguez kicked off his flippers and began typing away at a control panel on the west wall.  The computer was massive, and looked to have been an ancient relic, even when it had been constructed in the mid-80s.  Some of the monitors were displaying nothing but static, while others displayed dangerous levels of radiation in certain areas of the station.<br/><br/>Rae stood beside Dominguez, and studied the messages on the computer screens.  "Everyone with us?"  He asked, turning towards them, "This is the starting point.  Any problems, you come back here.  This place'll be guarded at all times, so don't worry if you have a mutated freak chasing after you.  We'll get the sumbitch."  He smirked, not believing in the slightest that they would actually come face-to-face with something right out of a horror movie.<em>Yeah, and here's a computer terminal.  You can save your progress here.  Press X to save.</em>He thought to himself, turning back to Dominguez and talking with him on how to unlock some of the doors, and what areas were safe.  Each team member had been issued a gas mask, which would more than likely be required until Dominguez could be sure it was safe.