"HMS Duchess to HMS Nelson, we are making our approach. Prepare to be boarded." Our captain spoke into the radio coolly and calmly, completely relaxed in his seat. He did this all the time, checking ships and boats in the Antarctic, making sure fishers were not breaching the Treaty. In fact, most of the crew were relaxed about the whole thing.

Apart from Christine, as per usual.

"This is stupid," she told me, her arms crossed as she stared fiercely out the ship's windows at the small battleship looming ahead. Nelson looked battered and bruised and not just because of the dents which peppered her hull. The whole ship looked depressed. I couldn't blame it. Losing half your crew must be overwhelming. I could only imagine what the remaining sailors felt like.

They were only meant to be out here to check if the Antarctic Treaty was still in tact. But our agency, the International Naval Rescue and Investigation Agency, were called by the Royal Navy saying they needed us to check the Nelson out. The ship was stranded, no-one knew why; it was our job to find out.

"You think every mission we go for is stupid," I pointed out to Christine. "Like that oil tanker we recovered last year; you know the one, just off the coast of Madagascar?  We managed to save an entire ecosystem." She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we saved an ecosystem," she said, "But Pete and I almost drowned and you were almost crushed in the process." I  shrugged.

"What? How was I meant to know that the hull wasn't in tact? Anyway, danger is in the job description."

"Getting killed? Remind me where that paragraph was in the contract," she snorted. I smirked and rolled my eyes. Christine and Pete could be troublesome sometimes but, if I was completely honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. Christine was the voice of reason in our little trio of adventurers, despite being overly pessimistic most of the time. I would have died a hundred times over if I hadn't of had her telling me where I was going wrong. The reckless stuff was my job.

"Sir, we're twenty minutes from boarding the Nelson," Captain Hall announced. "I suggest you get your team ready."

"Thank you, Captain," I replied, nodding to Christine who sighed, spinning on her heel and trotting down the stairs to wake Pete. Our sixty year old senior member got severely seasick and so sleeping for the entire trip was his best way of avoiding it.

Out of the window I gazed over the water at Antarctica beyond. We were just off the Peninsula and I could see the land shimmering in the distance like a mirage. The sea was as black as ink, enticing the Duchess to cross it if she dared. Ice-burgs looked like diamonds bobbing in the water, the only pureness in an ocean of darkness. It was the most challenging conditions we had ever worked in. But as if that would stop us.

From my pocket, I drew out my voice recorder and pressed the red button, speaking into it:

Mission log: December 14th 2056, 0710 hours: We are currently making our way to  HMS Nelson, preparing to board. Weather is overcast with calm waters. No sign of any threats, though crew are all alert. Boarding team will be ready momentarily. Team is mostly calm-

"Pete's up, Matt!" Christine called, coming back up to the bridge. "Let's get the gear and get this over with. If I miss Christmas Day because of this, I'm going to murder you." And with that, she disappeared below deck again.

Team is mostly calm although Christine is extremely cranky this morning.

I clicked off the recording and stuffed it in my coat pocket, following Christine down the steps and through the narrow corridors of the Duchess. I found her in the prep room with Pete, stuffing rations and sleeping bags into our rucksacks while Pete sat with a bucket on his lap.

"I specifically said to wake me up after we had arrived, not while we were still moving!" he groaned, hugging his stomach. His greying hair was sticking up at random angles from sleep. "Why did I ever agree to sail to the end to the world?"

"Oh, shut your mouth," Christine ordered. "If I recall correctly, it was you and Matt who ganged up on me and led us to be in this hell hole. Stop being a drama queen." I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

When I had first got the call about the Nelson three weeks earlier, it had taken some convincing to get Christine and Pete to agree to come with me. The I.N.R.I.A. looked into ship accidents all over the world to  discover their cause. At the time, there weren't many volunteers to take the Nelson case. It was too close to Christmas and nobody wanted to be hanging out in the Antarctic when they could have been enjoying a nice turkey.

But a Royal Navy battleship doesn't come up on our radar all that often, If they had a problem, they usually sorted it our for themselves. I had to discover why they needed us to help them out...

***

"Oh come on, Christine," I pleaded, holding out the mission file that was dropped on my desk that morning. "It's a Royal Navy battleship. It probably just crashed into an ice-burg. How bad could it be? And anyway, who doesn't want snow at Christmas?" She gave me her trademark glare from behind her desk.

"No," she told me, tossing her flaming red hair. "Have you read the briefing? It says a routine crew psychology assessment and cause of damage. That's all it says. No ship history, no crew information, no nothing. Something's up."

"Aw,come on," I probed. "It'll be fun." Across from my desk, Pete glanced up at us through his reading glasses.

"If your idea of fun is sitting on a boat for weeks and throwing up, then go ahead," he muttered. "Leave me out of it."

"Have you ever wondered if you're in the wrong business, Pete?" I laughed.

"Hey, I'm good at my job," he exclaimed. "I'm just not so good at the sailing part." Holding the file on the Nelson in my hand, I walked over.

"Think of the puzzle, Pete," I said, leaning my elbows on his desk. He sighed and carried on writing the last mission report, doing his level best to ignore me.

"Don't listen to him, Pete," Christine called from the other side of the office. "Don't fall for Matt's tricks." I ignored her.

"They have no idea what happened with this boat. It isn't often that a British battleship crashes. Haven't you always wanted to work on a battleship, Pete? Isn't it one of your dreams?  Come on, one last mission before you retire. Imagine telling this story to your granddaughter." I knew that I'd hit the spot. Pete's granddaughter, Lily meant everything to him. She wanted to become an engineer, so I knew Pete wouldn't miss the chance to tell her about working on a Royal Navy battleship.

Pete nudged his reading glasses down his nose, trying to match Christine's unimpressed stare. It wasn't working; I could see the slow grin spreading on his face.

"Fine, you've convinced me," he said. "When do we leave?"

"We should go straight away," I said. "There's another Navy ship in the area. I could contact them to meet us in Argentina. We can fly over then hop on the boat there."

"Oh no," Christine warned, standing from her desk. "There is no way in hell that we are going on some wild goose chase in the Antarctic, especially if the navy is involved." Pete and I looked at each then sidled up to her.

"Think of how terrified those sailors are," Pete said. "They're going to need someone to help them."

"They're navy," Christine argued. "They're made to be tough. They'll be fine."

"But their families must be so worried," I continued. "If we can get them home for Christmas, we'd be heroes. We may even find the other half of the crew. But we can't do that without you."

"Mathew Mayhew, if you're trying to guilt trip me-" she started but I interrupted.

"Come on, Christine. I'm going to need my psychiatrist," I sang. "What do you say?" Her mouth twisted into a scowl as she contemplated the idea. Finally, she made a noise of frustration and huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms.

"Fine," she growled. "But don't make me regret this."

"You won't," I said. "What could go wrong?"

***

"Hey, Earth to Matt?" Christine yelled. "Snap out of it." I blinked and refocused.

"Sorry, completely zoned out there," I said. "What were you saying?" She scowled that famous scowl.

"If you would be so kind as to listen, I was saying we are ready to board the Nelson," she huffed. "Pete, have you got your tools to check the engines?" Pete groaned in reply, his fingers turning white as he gripped the edge of the bucket.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Christine said. "I've got all my kit. You ready, Matt?" I smiled.

"Come on then," I said. "Let's do this."

***

Mission log : 0720 hours: Team are ready and will now prepare to board the Nelson. HMS Duchess is now making the final approach. Team are calm, however Pete is still suffering from sea sickness despite being in calm waters and travelling at two knots.

We stood on the top deck as Duchess dropped anchor next to the Nelson. I was bundled up in a thick coat, hat and gloves, a heavy rucksack shouldered on my back. Pete and Christine were dressed exactly the same.

"All right, come with me, please," an officer told us. We followed him to the railing of the ship and he gestured to the walkway that had been slotted into place. "You have two hours before you must come back to the Duchess. Return by 0920 hours at the latest, understand?"

I nodded and led the way across the walkway and carefully set foot onto the Nelson, avoiding the ice. To my surprise, nobody came to meet us. The ship was quiet. Very quiet.

"I'm not one to judge battleships," Christine said landing on the deck next to me. "But this is one piece of junk."

"Respect the ship, Christine," Pete muttered. "Remember, we are standing on it." Christine opened her mouth but I interrupted.

"Guys, let's just get out our job done," I said. Pete saluted.

"Aye, aye, skipper." I rolled my eyes and trudged up the ladder that led to the bridge, climbing up swiftly. With Christine and Pete behind me, I opened the bridge door and entered.

"Hello?" I called. "Captain?"

"Are you from the agency?" Said a small voice.

"Yeah, we are," I replied, stepping carefully onto the bridge. Christine gave me a look that said exactly what I thought:

What was a bunch of tough navy sailors doing hiding from us?

A second later, a man, clearly the captain, straightened up from hiding behind a counter. He was pale, a bandage wrapped around his head.

"Thank God you're here," he said in a shaky voice. "I'm Captain Jackson."

"Where are the rest of the crew?" Christine asked.

"Down below," Captain Jackson replied. "I told them to stay there so they wouldn't get hurt."

"Hurt?" Pete asked. "Hurt by what? Your ship crashed, didn't it? I understand that you have lost half of your crew, but you're out of danger now."

Captain Jackson shook his head violently. "No," he muttered. "No, you don't understand. We didn't crash. We didn't crash. They found us. They took my crew."

"What did?" I asked. The shaken captain looked up, his pupils wide and dilated.

"The ice people," he whispered. "The ice people boarded my ship and took my crew."

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