How could this go so wrong when I planned so carefully? wondered Rausing. Three hundred and fifty feet below, two divers were outside of the bell, panicking, and one more, Murray, inside. The trip up from the depths would take time, as would their decompression. If Aitkens couldn’t fetch the bomb, they would have to come out here a second time to dive the Vampire. It is time we don’t have. Rausing slammed his fist onto the metal desk in Dive Control. It was an uncharacteristic loss of control and the others in the room looked warily at him.

I knew I should have done the dive myself. But these men had come on good recommendation—discreet, professional. Now things were falling apart. Suddenly, above the usual electronic whines and rumble of the ship came a new noise: the baritone thrumming of a diesel engine. In a few steps, Rausing bounded up the metal stairs to the pilothouse. Captain Kovács lowered his binoculars.

“We’ve got company.”

Rausing grabbed the binoculars, a high-powered Leica set, and scanned the horizon. In the growing light of the tropical dawn, Rausing caught sight of a boat moving slowly up the coastline from the south. It was not one of the ramshackle fishing boats he’d expected, but a modern cabin cruiser with a flying bridge and wide, low transom. There were dive tanks strapped to the railings at the back. It was still a couple of miles off but would be on them in ten minutes. Would they pass by? He raised the binoculars again. This time he made out the Sri Lankan flag painted on the bow along with the name “R/V Taprobane.” A government research vessel. Damn it. He had to act, fast.

Rausing picked up the radio to Dive Control. “Raise the bell,” he said matter of factly. He was met with silence, then it crackled back, “Ah, sir, McElroy and Aitkens…”

“I said, raise the bell. Don’t question me again.”

“Yes, sir,” came a stammered reply.

“Diver 1, get into the bell immediately. Bell diver, switch off Diver 2 and… cut.”

Inside the bell, Murray raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Wow, ruthless, he thought, then stood up and shimmied around the steel grid platform at the perimeter of the bell to a series of valves marked Diver 1 and Diver 2.

In the depths, Aitkens had heard the exchange and gave one last look in the direction of McElroy, who was invisible now behind the wall of silt. Then he turned and pulled himself hand over hand up his umbilical as fast as he could so he’d not be ripped up off the bottom by the ascending bell.

McElroy was in full panic but no one heard him now. Dive Control had shut off his helmet radio. He pleaded and cajoled into the empty microphone as he tugged at his trapped foot.