Where the Ghosts Lie

The Russian cargo ship rocked gently in the calm Indian Ocean, its port side dipping with the white-tipped waves. Above, the sky was a velvet black, punctuated by the shimmer of the moon on the water.
A black military dinghy, filled with five Navy SEALs, crept silently towards the vessel. Nolan Clay, nestled in the middle seat, fiddled with his comm system, his gaze fixed on the faint outline of the ship ahead.
“Getting antsy there, Clay?” Trenton Reeves’ voice cut through the quiet. Nolan glanced back at his teammate, tightening his mask.
“Nothing phases me anymore, Reeves,” Nolan replied with a lofty chuckle.
Reeves laughed, clapping Nolan’s helmet. “Right. Nothing except that conversation between you and the captain yesterday.”
Nolan offered a slight grin. “Me? Stupid? Never.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you disobeyed orders because you thought you knew best,” Reeves retorted. Their playful banter ceased as they neared the massive cargo ship, its multicolored crates towering against the dark expanse.
