DIRK SURFACED TWENTY YARDS FROM THE BURN- ing gasoline and lazily swam in the direction of the cruise ship, occasionally raising one arm and slapping it down to the surface in the diver’s signal for distress. He cautiously eyed the carbon dioxide cloud, which was still burgeoning a few dozen yards behind the burning log. He could hear shouts from the shore and glanced over to see Summer yelling and waving at the ship to halt.

He looked north to see the massive ship still bearing down on him. He began to wonder if anyone was awake on the bridge and had even seen his pyrotechnic display. Questioning his own safety in the path of the ship, he turned and swam a few strokes toward the shore. Then he heard the distant wail of an alarm sounding on board. The water near the vessel’s stern caught his eye as it churned into a turbulent boil. Dirk realized the fiery signal had in fact been seen and that the captain had reversed engines. But he began to wonder if it was too late.

The Dauphine continued gliding toward the toxic cloud without any appearance of slowing. Dirk swam harder to avoid the oncoming bow of the ship as it bore down on him. Its towering presence drew over him, the bow cutting the water just yards away. All but giving up hope that the ship would stop, he suddenly detected the liner shudder and falter. The ship’s bow eased up to the dying line of flames, then ground to a halt. With a pained slowness, the Dauphine began backing up the strait, moving a hundred yards to the north, before drifting to a stationary position.

A small orange launch had already been lowered over the side and quickly raced toward Dirk. As it pulled alongside, two crewmen reached over and roughly yanked him aboard. An austere-faced man seated at the stern growled at him.

“What kind of fool are you? Greenpeace?” he asked in a French accent.

Dirk pointed to the billowing white vapor to the south of them.

“Sail into that and you’ll be a dead man. You be the fool and ignore my warning.”

He paused, staring the crewman in the eye. Flustered and suddenly unsure of himself, the Frenchman remained quiet.

“I have an injured man ashore who requires immediate medical attention,” Dirk continued, pointing to the fishing hut.

Without another word, they raced the launch to shore. Dirk jumped off the boat and ran to the hut, which was now blazing hot from the stove fire. Summer was seated with her arm around Trevor, talking to him on the cot. His eyes looked brighter, but he still mumbled in a state of grogginess. The launch crewmen helped carry him to the boat, and they all returned to the Dauphine.