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to that piece of shit anyway?”

It was Callum’s turn to tell Peterson what had happened since he had stranded the three of them on Harmsworth. Where Peterson had given a plain narrative account, Callum’s was more like a list of charges for which he held the Texan accountable. As he spoke, he tried his hardest to exaggerate the sense of horror and loss that they had all experienced, to give Peterson both barrels. But he couldn’t. There was simply no exaggerating what they had been through.

Peterson took a while to digest what Callum had told him. Then he said, “So you’re the only ones left, huh?”

“Unless Volkov somehow managed to find his way out of the caves,” Callum replied. “But I doubt that.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Peterson said. “And he’s got the data stick. Shit! With his contacts, he’ll have an anti-virus developed faster than a whore can drop her panties. Sonofabitch! He’ll probably sell the virus to his mafia friends and then… Shit!”

“I’m sorry if we’ve disappointed you, Dan,” Callum said. “If I’d only known how upset you’d be, I would’ve tried harder to disarm the maniac.”

His surprise at finding Peterson alive had all but vanished and with it any sympathy. In its place was raw anger. “Talk about disappointment. I don’t care what your intentions were, what you’ve done turns my stomach!”

Peterson went to respond. Then he evidently thought better of it and closed his mouth.

“All those people on board the Albanov,” Callum went on, “everyone that’s died on Harmsworth since, they owe their miserable deaths to you. Their blood is on your hands. All three of us have nearly been killed and we still might be. Do you even understand that?” He paused, his eyes locked on Peterson’s. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re little better than Volkov, and not your high-minded motive or your half-arsed apology redeem you. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I feel like finishing you off myself!”

Darya took Callum’s clenched fist and squeezed it gently.

Peterson let out a long sigh. “Like I said before, that’s what I like about you, McJones. You’re a straight shooter. Everything you’ve said is true. No matter how many times I say I’m sorry, it’s not gonna make up for what I’ve done to you, not to anyone. It’s not gonna make a damn bit of difference. I understand that you want me in a box. Hell, I’d climb on in myself if I had the strength.”

Darya spoke up. “You said that there was Option C, for getting away from here?”

With Ava’s help, Peterson pulled himself up into a sitting position. “That’s right, there is.”

“Well, what is it then?” Callum snarled.

“You can use the submarine to navigate directly to Nagurskoye.”

“I thought you said the Centaur was a wreck.”

“It is. But who said anything about the Centaur?”

“What then?”

“I mean Volkov’s sub. It’s moored up in a cove a bit further up the coast from here. It’s where I came ashore.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just climb on board and get yourself to safety.”

Darya squeezed Callum’s hand again. “Dan tries to help us now.”

“So why didn’t you?” Ava asked. “Why didn’t you leave us?”

Peterson was quiet for a long time. Then at last he said, “Guilty conscience, I guess.” His eyes moved quickly back to Callum. “Look, I’m not after forgiveness here, McJones.”

“It’s Doctor Ross.”

“Okay, well, I’m not after forgiveness here, Doctor Ross. I’m not even after sympathy. All I wanna do now is get you folks to safety.” He paused. “You gonna let me do that?”

4

The cove was only a few kilometres north of the compound, just as Peterson had said. Sure enough, the submarine was moored up offshore. It was smaller than the Centaur, sleek and white, in kind with Volkov’s other toy, and it was secured by two retractable anchors to a talon of rock jutting into the swell.

Darya read the name off the submarine’s flank. “White Squall.”

Callum brought the hovercraft to a halt on the beach and killed the engine. The noise of the fans faded out, leaving only the lapping of ocean on stone.

Peterson’s voice was croaky. “You remember when I showed you the Centaur controls?”

“Just about,” Callum replied.

“Good. Well, when you get inside the sub, the console looks pretty much the same, just smaller.” Pre-empting Callum’s question, he added, “Yeah, I took a look when I came ashore. Now, it may seem complicated, but don’t let it fool you, it ain’t rocket science. Smart fella like you’ll figure it out in no time.” He began running through the basic operating procedures: power, anchor, dive…

“Why don’t you just show me when we’re on board?” Callum asked eventually.

Peterson was quiet.

“Dan?” Ava prompted.

He looked up at her. “Because I’m not going with you.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you are. We’re not leaving you here.”

Peterson gestured towards the submarine. “That’s Volkov’s personal, one-man sub. I’ve seen inside it, and just getting the three of you in there is gonna be pushing it some. Even if I could squeeze in, which I couldn’t, it’d be asking for trouble. The extra weight would stress the system, the life support would be inadequate, manoeuvrability would be all shot to hell—”

“Nonsense, you’re just delirious!”

“I’m not delirious, Ava…” he hesitated, “…I’m dying.”

Though he practically whispered them, the two words seemed to echo around the cove.

“Dying?” She laughed. “Oh, honey, don’t be so dramatic. You’re just exhausted and beat up like the rest of us. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”

Peterson said nothing. Tears were welling up in his eyes.

Ava’s smile was replaced by a look of panic. “Dan? You’re not dying.” In exasperation, she looked to Callum. “Doctor Ross, tell him. Tell him he’s not dying. He’s got to come with us!”

Callum stared long and hard at Peterson. Was he really the only one who had noticed the hand-shaped stain on the side of the man’s wetsuit? It seemed so. In a low voice he said, “Volkov’s bullet didn’t just graze you, did

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