The contraction came immediately, and with an almighty effort, the baby’s right shoulder was delivered, then the left. Dan held the tiny, delicate head in his large hand. The umbilical cord was wrapped around the child’s neck. He said nothing about it to Vicky, just kept muttering encouraging words whilst slipping a finger between cord and neck.

With one final push, the baby was born, slipping into Dan’s hands.

“You’ve done it! The baby’s out!” The words stuck in his throat as his emotions choked him.

“Why isn’t it crying?” Vicky was panting, exhausted.

Dan lay the child on the towels with which he had covered the floor. It was a delicate shade of blue, and made no noise. It didn’t seem to be breathing. His mind raced through everything he knew about childbirth. It wasn’t much, but he’d been to the classes, he’d been vaguely aware of the documentaries on television that Vicky had insisted in recording and watching back at mealtimes, and he seemed to remember having read something a long time ago.

“Dan? Why isn’t the baby crying?” She leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, face paler than he’d ever seen it.

Something clicked. He checked the nose and mouth were clear. Then with one finger, he gently tickled the infant’s left foot, then the right.

The tiny thing coughed, then wailed. Incredibly, it made even more noise than Vicky had managed.

The relief was immense, and Dan noticed that he, too, had started breathing again. He looked up at his wife, and found she was blurred. Everything was blurred.

“Let me see,” she said quietly.

“Of course.” He wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, wrapped the baby in a thick towel, and lifted it gently into her arms.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well what?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Oh! I didn’t even notice!”

“You big idiot.”

He hugged her, not caring about the blood on his hands.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Dan pulled a couple of the towels over Vicky.

The door opened and a man hobbled in, leaning on a walking stick. “Hello, I am Doctor Lister. I heard you were looking for someone from medical? Oh, my. It would seem I am rather late.”

Through the open door, they heard the sound of an explosion in the distance.

• • •

Daniel joined Jake at the bow of the Lance.

“You, sir, are a bloody genius if I may say so.”

Jake shook his head. “Not yet. If the Ambush doesn’t target that sub and put it out of action before she dives again, then we’re no better off. They won’t fall for the same trick twice.”

“Even so, Jake, using the raft? Very clever. I would never have thought of that. Lucky those guys targeted it and not the Ambush.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Jake said, grinning. “That radio made sure the Ambush knew what was going on. At least, I hope they understood my message. Where are the others? Are they okay?”

“It was a bit of a ride back there. That wave knocked poor Bodil out of her chair, but she’s alright. The boys are taking her back inside.”

They both stared at the enemy submarine. It was turning, no longer facing where the raft had been.

“Why aren’t they diving?” Daniel scratched his head. “They must know they’re a sitting duck. Surely the Ambush will have picked up the sound of them coming out of the water.”

“That was the plan. Even if they hadn’t surfaced, the torpedo launch must have shown up on the passive sonar. And yet, they’re not diving. Which means…”

“They don’t think they’re in danger.”

“Right. Which means…”

“They think they really did just sink the Ambush?”

Jake turned white as the implication dawned on him.

“Hang on.” Daniel was catching up. “If they think the Ambush is gone, that makes the Arcadia a target!”

“With no protection, they think they’re free to fire on her. Shit! Come on Ambush, where are you? Oh! The radio!” He reached into his pocket, but the radio had gone, knocked out when he was thrown to the deck. “It’s gone! Where’s the third one?”

Daniel stared at him.

“The third radio, Daniel? Where is it? If I broadcast another message, they’ll understand the Ambush is still out there!”

“The others have got it,” he said. He turned and started to run to the back of the ship.

Jake spun back round and looked out to sea. The strange angular stealthy submarine had completed her manoeuvre. She was facing directly towards the cruiser. “Come on…” he whispered. “Where are you guys?” He scanned the horizon, hoping to see the familiar black tower of the navy’s pride and joy, but the surface of the sea remained stubbornly unbroken.

He heard footsteps behind him. Daniel was back. “Here!” Arm outstretched, he held the radio in front of him. “It’s tuned in, go!”

Jake grabbed the device, checked the channel, and held it to his mouth. He looked out to sea again, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Too late,” he said quietly. “It’s too late.”

The two men stared at the hostile submarine. With barely a sound, something long and slender had shot out of the front.

Jake’s mouth fell open. He watched in disbelief as, just below the surface of the water, the torpedo sped towards the Spirit of Arcadia.

Thirty-Three

JAKE STARED AT the torpedo, his brain denying the image his eyes were relaying. The implication was just too huge. The submarine, off to his left, was diving again. To his right, blissfully unaware of the fate it was about to meet, was the Spirit of Arcadia. His workplace. His home. His family. His world. Speeding between the two, the weapon that would bring about its demise.

Not all hands would be lost. Not immediately anyway. The Arcadia still had some life rafts left. She was a big ship; she would take time to go down. Some might escape. Some might even make it to the Lance. And what then? The little research vessel couldn’t sustain life indefinitely. To escape the cruise ship would only serve to delay death.

“Jesus,” was all Daniel managed to say, before he threw up.

For Jake, time slowed down. His mind had processed the information to hand, and was going into overdrive, trying to find a solution. He felt as though he was waking up for the first time in his life, every sense on high alert. He discovered a clarity of thought the likes of which he had never before experienced.

From nowhere, he knew exactly what to do.

He strode quickly but calmly back along the deck.

“Daniel! With me,” he ordered. The young sailor, still dumbstruck, did as he was told, falling in line behind his captain.

Jake stopped and examined the rack of harpoons. His hand ran along them, fingers brushing against their slim metal bodies until they stopped on one with an explosives warning label.

“You don’t think…” Daniel began.

Jake ignored him and pulled the harpoon free. “Load this up,” he said.

Daniel took the device and stared at it.

“Quickly!”

While the weapon was being loaded, Jake positioned himself at the rear of the cannon once more.

Daniel stood aside and Jake searched the sea for the torpedo. He traced the straight line between where the submarine had disappeared below the water on their port side, and the cruise ship off the starboard side. There was no tell-tale trail of bubbles, no obvious wake, no disturbance of the water that gave any clues as to its whereabouts.

“There!” Daniel pointed at a shadow moving quickly. It was almost directly in front of the bow of the Lance.

“Move!”

Jake swung the harpoon cannon around to his left. It wouldn’t turn far enough; a safety precaution. It was impossible to fire across the Lance’s own deck. His eyes never left the dark patch of water speeding towards its target. The cannon held fast, his fingers curled around the trigger. He emptied his lungs and held his breath. His mind was clear and focussed. He had absolute confidence in what he was doing.