The torpedo cleared the bow; it was almost directly lined up with the launcher.

“Now,” Jake whispered. He squeezed the trigger.

It would have been the perfect shot. His timing was impeccable. The harpoon would have caught the torpedo dead centre. But nothing happened.

There was no launch. The explosive arrow stayed exactly where it was.

His mind, so clear and focussed, was filled with a thousand questions. Daniel usefully boiled them all down to just one: “What the fuck?”

Jake squeezed again. And again. On the fourth attempt the harpoon exploded out of the launcher and was away. But he hadn’t followed the torpedo, hadn’t tracked his target and moved the cannon. The harpoon arced out over the sea, and plopped harmlessly into the water where the deadly payload had been moments before. It didn’t even explode.

Jake roared with frustration, but it was a brief moment of anger. Just as quickly, he got himself under control. He hadn’t lost the torpedo. It was closing fast on the Arcadia, but there were still a few precious seconds left.

“Another!”

“On it,” Daniel cried. He was pulling out the only other explosive harpoon. It was loaded into the launcher, and the sailor jumped back out of the way.

Jake swung the grey tube around. He was now facing directly towards his own ship.

The shot was a difficult one. The torpedo was tracking away from him at an angle. He breathed out once more, all the time judging the speed and trajectory of the enemy weapon. He could almost hear Lucya whispering in his ear, guiding him, encouraging him. Still moving the launcher, still tracking, he squeezed the trigger.

Nothing.

He never blinked. He breathed in then out, kept the cannon rotating gently the whole time, following, stalking. He squeezed a second time.

The cannon recoiled very slightly as the harpoon rocketed out of the launch tube.

“Yes!” Daniel’s hands were thrown into the air.

Jake said nothing. He stood up straight and watched the little piece of metal soar through the sky. The torpedo was almost upon the ship. Sixty metres away. Fifty meters away.

The harpoon descended in a graceful curve.

Forty metres.

The arrow head dipped below the water, out of sight.

The world seemed to go black. Jake saw only a tiny patch of water, the shadow barely visible in the distance. It was out of his hands now.

• • •

“Close your eyes, Erica,” Lucya said. She kept her own eyes open, staring at the leader, showing she wasn’t afraid.

The metal table leg swung towards her.

At that precise moment, there was a huge explosion. Not like the previous explosion. This was bigger. Closer. It was followed almost immediately by a second explosion, further away.

Three things happened at once:

The lights all went out.

The ship rolled violently to the starboard side.

The metal pole struck Lucya.

It missed her head, instead catching her full in the side. She felt her ribs crack as it connected. It could have been worse. As she was already tumbling, rolling with the ship, the blow lost some of its force.

Erica was suddenly beneath her, screaming. In the dark, with the ship churning so violently, it was hard to know which way was up. Lucya was reminded of having had the same problem in the pipe. She remembered to use gravity to orient herself. The feeling was returning to her arms and she pushed herself up, freeing the girl.

Around them, there was shouting as the Koreans panicked, not knowing if they had been attacked by their own submarine, or if the whole thing was a ploy by the security team to take the classroom. Their voices were joined by a chorus of screams from the terrified children.

The lights flickered once, twice, then came back on. The ship was rolling back the other way.

Some of the men were in a heap at one end of the room. Partially paralysed, they could do nothing to help themselves.

The leader was back on his feet. He was reaching for the gun that had ended up on the floor in the commotion.

It was Erica who stopped him. She was alert, and her limbs reacted faster than those of Lucya. The girl sprang forwards and charged at him.

“Erica! No!” Lucya cried out, but she was too far away, and too late.

Her head down, Erica rammed the leader in the groin. It may not have been elegant, but it was mightily effective. The man went down heavily on his knees, which cracked as they hit the ground. His hands were still free though, and he reached for the weapon. Lucya was there. A blow to his arm knocked it free the very second he touched it. She raised her fist again, but one of the other men grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. She shrieked in pain. Erica leapt onto the man’s back, but he bucked and threw her off. She staggered backwards and was caught by some of the other children.

The leader was recovering. He raised his hands and placed them around Lucya’s throat. She struggled, but her arms were locked behind her, and — she realised with alarm — she could no longer feel her legs. The virus too, had her in its clutches.

“Enough,” the leader said, choking on the word. “Enough.”

His hands gripped tighter. For Lucya, the world started to go black. Her lungs heaved and strained, desperate for oxygen. She looked into the Korean man’s eyes, and understood that he was enjoying this. He was enjoying killing her.

Then, a movement at the side of the room. A bang. The scraping sound of table legs on the floor. Shouting. Shapes approaching. Children screaming.

The man’s hands were pulled away. Lucya fell to the floor, choking and retching. Somehow Erica was by her side, calling her name, hugging her. She tried to look up, to see her one last time, but the room swam around her then faded to darkness.

Thirty-Four

JAKE’S HEIGHTENED MENTAL state was blown to smithereens with the torpedo. Reality crashed back into his head and he finally felt all the panic, the stress, and the desperation that he should have felt when he first saw the weapon deploy.

“Yes!” Daniel leapt into the air this time. His shrieks were joined by others, and Jake saw that the rest of the sailors were standing alongside.

The explosion was as impressive as the two others he had already seen. More so even, as the backdrop of the cruise liner gave it a sense of scale.

The explosive-tipped harpoon had found the torpedo just metres from the ship, and the resulting detonation caused her to roll heavily. Jake wasn’t worried. He knew the Arcadia was a stable old girl. There might be a few more cuts and bruises on board, but it was nothing compared to what could have been.

Behind them, a second explosion, just as loud. The men on the deck spun around to see another column of seawater rise into the air.

“Was that…” Daniel asked nervously.

“I hope so,” Jake said.

The radio in his pocket beeped, and a muffled voice called out. Jake had forgotten all about the device. He pulled it out and turned up the volume.

“…are you out there? Repeat, Lance? Ambush? Are you out there?”

“This is Captain Jake Noah.”

“Thank God! Captain, this is Rupert Bembridge of the security team. The hostage situation has taken a turn…”

Jake felt his legs go weak.

“The hostages are safe, but some of the security team had to intervene. There are three officers inside the classroom, exposed to the virus. We really need that antidote.”

“Understood. Stand by, Officer Bembridge.”

Jake switched the channel on the radio. He looked out at the ocean. No submarine had surfaced. There was no indication as to which boat had taken the hit. He checked the transceiver, then lifted it to his mouth. “Ralf, if you’re out there, old friend, we need your help, and we need it now…”