Late in the evening, Mr. Millar was leaning against a post that help one of the makeshift tents set up by the military on the beach. He reached into his outer coat pocket and took out his pocket watch to check the time. He had been waiting for what seemed like forever and was anxious to get going.
Several minutes later, the Deputy Director walked out of the tent with a frail-looking lad with a clipboard behind him. The chap behind the Director was Dr. Richards, the only person that was just as crazy as Mr. Millar to venture out into the sea. A craft was being pushed into the water, prepped for Millar and Richards to take out into the horrific triangle to search for the lost flight.
Dr.Richards greeted Mr. Millar and told him that there was someone else that volunteered. A girl by the name of Lucy, but unfortunately was not given the green light to participate for some unknown reason. OK with his partner for the trip, Mr. Millar walked towards the shore casually with his hand in his pockets with Dr. Richards following behind with his clipboard clenched in his hands, pressed against his chest. The solider guarding the craft that was now in the water gave the instructions to driving the craft, but was stopped before he could finish when Mr. Millar snatched the keys from the soldier's hand, telling him that he was quite aware of how to drive the thing. He really didn't. But he knew of a way to get it to run regardless.
Mr. Millar took out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the ignition. The green light at the end of the tool shone brightly, making a buzzing noise that was followed by the sounds that said the engines were now running. Standing up from his seat, Richards adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses and peeked over Millar's shoulder, asking about the gadget that just started the boat. Millar refused to answer the scientist in a polite manner, asking him to take his seat again, steering the conversation to get him to forget about the sonic. Millar commended Richards on his bravery for doing something that nobody else on the shore would do. Richards, while immensely scared of what might happen at any moment, said that he felt it was his job as a man of science to venture into the unknown. Millar noticed the stutters and shakiness in Millar's voice, and how his legs constantly shook, the heel of his foot tapping on the floor beneath him. Millar placed a hand on Richards' shoulder and guaranteed him that nothing was going to happen to them. And that they would both get back to shore safe and sound.
Looking at the coordinates, Millar alerted Richards that they had arrived at the Triangle. It was a bit of a strange thing since Millar expected the waters to be more unrelenting than they were. In fact, they were quite calm. To make sure, Millar double-checked the coordinates, then asked Richards to triple-check them to make sure they were at the right location. They were. They both stepped out of the bridge, and onto the bow. The boat rocked calmly, but that was just about it, aside from the chill of the breeze that blew in their direction. Now at their destination, they both just looked around them, seeing nothing but ocean. Richards left for a bit, then came back with the pair of scuba suits that were packed on board. He was told to forget the suits as they won't be needed. Millar again took out his sonic and pointed it at the dark ocean below, waving it left to right several times. He brought it up to his face and stared at it for a few seconds. Again, Richards' curiousity was sparked. He wanted to know what this little gadget was. Swinging the sonic downwards, and tucking it back into his coat pocket, Millar told Richards that the planes were definitely down there, as well as the crew. Richards again reached for the scuba suits and demanded they go down to fetch the crew. Millar agreed.
Suited up, Millar told Richards to prepare himself for what he was going to see down there. It would be something that he would probably never ever see, and would probably be the only one to see it. With that said, they both dived off the side of the boat, down into the water.
Several minutes later, the Deputy Director walked out of the tent with a frail-looking lad with a clipboard behind him. The chap behind the Director was Dr. Richards, the only person that was just as crazy as Mr. Millar to venture out into the sea. A craft was being pushed into the water, prepped for Millar and Richards to take out into the horrific triangle to search for the lost flight.
Dr.Richards greeted Mr. Millar and told him that there was someone else that volunteered. A girl by the name of Lucy, but unfortunately was not given the green light to participate for some unknown reason. OK with his partner for the trip, Mr. Millar walked towards the shore casually with his hand in his pockets with Dr. Richards following behind with his clipboard clenched in his hands, pressed against his chest. The solider guarding the craft that was now in the water gave the instructions to driving the craft, but was stopped before he could finish when Mr. Millar snatched the keys from the soldier's hand, telling him that he was quite aware of how to drive the thing. He really didn't. But he knew of a way to get it to run regardless.
Mr. Millar took out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the ignition. The green light at the end of the tool shone brightly, making a buzzing noise that was followed by the sounds that said the engines were now running. Standing up from his seat, Richards adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses and peeked over Millar's shoulder, asking about the gadget that just started the boat. Millar refused to answer the scientist in a polite manner, asking him to take his seat again, steering the conversation to get him to forget about the sonic. Millar commended Richards on his bravery for doing something that nobody else on the shore would do. Richards, while immensely scared of what might happen at any moment, said that he felt it was his job as a man of science to venture into the unknown. Millar noticed the stutters and shakiness in Millar's voice, and how his legs constantly shook, the heel of his foot tapping on the floor beneath him. Millar placed a hand on Richards' shoulder and guaranteed him that nothing was going to happen to them. And that they would both get back to shore safe and sound.
Looking at the coordinates, Millar alerted Richards that they had arrived at the Triangle. It was a bit of a strange thing since Millar expected the waters to be more unrelenting than they were. In fact, they were quite calm. To make sure, Millar double-checked the coordinates, then asked Richards to triple-check them to make sure they were at the right location. They were. They both stepped out of the bridge, and onto the bow. The boat rocked calmly, but that was just about it, aside from the chill of the breeze that blew in their direction. Now at their destination, they both just looked around them, seeing nothing but ocean. Richards left for a bit, then came back with the pair of scuba suits that were packed on board. He was told to forget the suits as they won't be needed. Millar again took out his sonic and pointed it at the dark ocean below, waving it left to right several times. He brought it up to his face and stared at it for a few seconds. Again, Richards' curiousity was sparked. He wanted to know what this little gadget was. Swinging the sonic downwards, and tucking it back into his coat pocket, Millar told Richards that the planes were definitely down there, as well as the crew. Richards again reached for the scuba suits and demanded they go down to fetch the crew. Millar agreed.
Suited up, Millar told Richards to prepare himself for what he was going to see down there. It would be something that he would probably never ever see, and would probably be the only one to see it. With that said, they both dived off the side of the boat, down into the water.