Midnight.
Outside Barcelona City, Mediterranean Sea.
A small boat is racing through the night at top speed, with two men with Eastern European faces onboard—one steering, the other scanning the sea.
"Over there! Faster!"
The man watching suddenly sees something and points in a direction, signaling his partner to head that way.
Where he's pointing, under the shadow of night, small points of light are visible; a cruise ship drifts silently over the water, like a wandering ghost, eerily quiet.
The boat speeds up as it approaches the silent ship, and the two Eastern European men secure their vessel and climb aboard.
Immediately upon boarding, they are hit by the stench of blood. The two exchange shocked glances, draw their guns from their waists.
They walk over and see someone lying amidst a pool of blood on the deck. They approach to check and find the person is dead.
"Damn it!"
The two realize the severity of the situation.
