[Jake's POV]
The Pearl River delta was choked with fog.
It was the kind of fog that didn't lift. It sat on the water like a wet blanket. Gray and thick. Visibility was maybe forty feet. Past that, everything was just dark.
The water was choppy. Black waves slapped against the rusted hull of the small, unlit trawler we were on. Each hit made the whole boat shudder. The smell was bad. Diesel, rot, and the sour tang of polluted river water.
Ethan and I crouched in the cramped wheelhouse.
We were dressed in black neoprene tactical suits. The material was tight and cold against my skin. It smelled like rubber. We wore low-profile rebreathers. The masks made my breathing sound loud. In. Out. In. Out.
We both carried suppressed, waterproofed submachine guns. The metal was cold. Condensation beaded on it.
