Desperately he made the distress signal that he had been taught years before, chopping with his hand in front of his throat. Out of air. Help! He was finding it more and more difficult to breathe, straining to draw what was left in his tank, aware that his lungs were never more than half filled. Tamara reached into the pocket of her BCD and pulled something out. She passed it through the window. Alex was confused. He was holding one of Paul Drevin’s inhalers. What good was that? Then he realized she must have taken it from his room. It was the gadget Smithers had given him in New York. How had she known about it?
And would it work underwater?
Dizzy, barely in control, Alex swam over to the chained door. He had to struggle to remember how the inhaler worked. Twist the cylinder twice clockwise. Why hadn’t Tamara set it off herself? Of course, she couldn’t. It was fingerprint sensitive. Alex had to do it. Breathe! Now the inhaler was armed. He rested it on the chain, then swam back further into the hold.
10 psi. The needle on his air gauge didn’t have much further to travel.
The door blew open. There was a ball of flame, instantly extinguished, and Alex felt the shock wave hit him, throwing him against the truck. He wasn’t breathing any more; there was nothing left to breathe.
Where was Tamara? Alex had assumed that there was a way out through the next hold, but what if he was wrong?
Everything was going black. Either the blast had knocked him out or he was suffocating.
But then he felt Tamara’s arms around him. She was pulling his regulator out of his mouth. It was useless, and he let it go. He felt something touch his lips and realized she had given him a second regulator, the octopus attached to her own tank. He breathed deeply and felt the rush of air into his lungs. It was a wonderful sensation.
They stayed where they were for a few minutes, their arms wrapped around each other. Then Tamara gently nudged Alex on the shoulder and pointed up. He nodded. They were still a long way down and with the two of them sharing a single tank, it wouldn’t be long before Tamara’s air supply also ran out.
Tamara swam through the broken door and Alex followed. There was an open hatch and they slipped through it, travelling slowly up. They paused when their gauges showed five metres. This was the safety stop that would allow nitrogen to seep out of their bloodstream and prevent them from getting the bends.
Five minutes later they completed their ascent, breaking through the surface into the brilliant afternoon sun.
Alex had no air to inflate his BCD, so he unfastened his weight belt and let it fall. Then he tore off his mask.
“How…?” he began.
“Later,” Tamara said.
It was a long swim back to the island and Tamara wanted to make sure they weren’t seen. They allowed the current to carry them round Little Point, then kicked in for the shore behind the house. Tamara checked there were no guards in sight before they ran across the beach and into the shelter of the palm trees.
Alex heaved off his tank and threw himself down onto the ground. He lay there panting. Tamara was lying next to him. In her wetsuit, with her hair loose and water trickling down her face, she didn’t look anything like a personal secretary … and suddenly Alex realized that she had never really been one.
“That was too close for comfort,” she said.
Alex stared at her. “Who are you?” he asked. But already he knew the answer. “CIA.” Of course. Joe Byrne had told him he had someone on the island.
“I’m sorry I’ve had to be so unfriendly to you,” Tamara said. She gave him a dazzling smile, as if it was something she had been wanting to do all along. “I’m sure you understand. It was my cover.”
“Sure.” It all made sense. “How did you find me just now?” he asked.
“You’d already told me where you were going,” Tamara explained. “I don’t know why, but I was nervous and I decided to follow you. I went into your room and grabbed the inhaler. I thought it might be useful and I was right. Then I swam out. I was just nearing the site of the wreck, when I saw the boat heading back without you and I guessed what must have happened. So I came down to find you.”
“Thank you.” Alex was feeling drowsy. The late afternoon sun was beating down on him and he was already dry. “So what happens now?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“I think Drevin may be planning to leave tonight.” Quickly Alex told her about the phone call he had overheard.
But Tamara looked doubtful. “I can’t believe that,” she said. “The launch tomorrow … Ark Angel. It means everything to him. He’s been working on it for months. Why disappear now?”
“I agree. But he definitely mentioned a boat. It’s arriving at eleven o’clock.”
“Then we have to be there. There’s a backup unit waiting in Barbados. If Drevin tries to leave, we can contact them and they’ll be here in minutes.”
“What do we do until then?”
“You’d better wait here. I’ll go back to the house and get you some clothes. And something to eat and drink.” She studied Alex closely. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine. Thanks, Tamara. You saved my life.”
“It’s great to be working with you, Alex. Joe told me all about you.” Tamara slipped away, leaving Alex on his own. He watched the waves breaking gently on the white sand.
The sun was beginning to set and the first shadows were already stretching out, reaching towards Alex and silently warning him of the dangers of the coming night.
TROPICAL STORM
