Jack turned away to the dark sea. “And fifty miles of dark ocean to cover. It’s going to take days.” He exhaled through compressed lips then shone his light out over the oil-dark water.

Cate let her gaze follow the beam. The black water seemed like an endless sheet of dark, fathomless glass.

Jack turned back, smiling. “But at least we’ve got champagne.”

*   *   *

Valery Mironov worked at the plastic cable around each of his wrists. It was tight, cut deep, and was making his hands throb. He’d never cry out, ask for help, or even acknowledge the pain to the man in front.

Dmitry turned, and Mironov relaxed his face into an expressionless mask. “There was no reason to kill, Yegor.”

Dmitry grinned and shrugged. “He killed himself. You heard me ask him to join me, but he said no. He left me no choice.” He turned back to his console. “If he said yes, he would be alive. So, in a way, he killed himself.” He shrugged again, and made a little farting noise with his lips.

“I see.” Mironov went back to his bonds. “And what of the others that you have left stranded? You’ve certainly killed them, just as if you put a bullet in their heads too.”

Dmitry waved the question away. “They’ll be safe.” He turned to him, his mouth twisted. “Would you prefer I had dropped them off in deep water?”

“No, no, I’m sure in your own way, you think you did the right thing.” Mironov was determined to keep the man talking. There seemed to be a flavor of unbalance to the submersible pilot that worried him. Sane men he could deal with, but often insanity had no market price.

“They must have paid you a fortune to undertake this mission, comrade. As I expect they’ll be seeking a thousand king’s ransoms for me. Maybe I could cut out the middlemen – give the king’s ransom all directly to you. Make you rich beyond Croesus’s dreams. I could even spirit you away to a tropical island so you could live out your life like an emperor; no questions asked.” Mironov watched Dmitry closely, looking for any sign he could move the man.

“Money?” Dmitry turned to him, his eyes narrowed. “What I want, only Brogidan Yusoff, can give me.”

On hearing the name of the Head of the Russian Ministry of Resources and Agriculture, Mironov’s hopes sank. It was personal then, and perhaps there was to be no ransom after all.

“So then, I can assume it was you and him, that organised the destruction of the crane, and contamination of the entire site.”

“Yes, yes, of course – blew up the crane, blew up the communication silos, and sealed you in.” Dmitry turned away, his expression bored.

“And how will you get out, then?” Mironov waited, as the silence stretched for several seconds.