Stormbreaker

simply too much to ask.
    But Ian Rider had swum through. Ian Rider had done it all, on his own, and he had never stopped … not until the day they had killed him. And Alex had always assumed he was nothing more than a bank manager! He felt his resolve give way to anger. These people—Sayle, Yassen, whoever—had snuffed out his uncle’s life simply because it had suited them. Well, he didn’t die for nothing. Alex would see to that.
    He pulled on the dry suit. It was cold, clammy, and uncomfortable. He zipped it up at the front. He hadn’t taken off his street clothes and that had perhaps helped. The suit was loose in places, but he was sure it would keep the water out.
    Moving quickly now, afraid that if he hesitated he would change his mind, Alex approached the water’s edge. He reached out and took the rope in one hand. It would be faster swimming with both hands, but he didn’t dare risk it. Getting lost in the underwater tunnel would be as bad as running out of air. The result would be exactly the same. He had to keep hold of the rope to allow it to guide him through. Alex took several deep breaths, hyperventilating and oxygenating his blood, knowing it would give him a few precious extra seconds. Then he plunged in.
    The cold was ferocious, a hammer blow that nearly forced the air out of his lungs. The water pounded at his head, swirling around his nose and eyes. His fingers were instantly numb. His whole system felt the shock but the dry suit was holding, sealing in at least some of his body warmth. Clinging to the rope, he kicked forward. He had committed himself. There could be no going back.
    Pull, kick. Pull, kick. Alex had been underwater for less than a minute, but already his lungs were feeling the strain. The roof of the tunnel was scraping his shoulders and he was afraid that it would tear through the dry suit and gouge into his skin as well. But he didn’t dare slow down.
    Pull, kick. Pull, kick. The freezing cold was sucking the strength out of him. How long had he been under?
    Ninety seconds? A hundred? His eyes were shut tight, but if he opened them there would be no difference.
    He was in a black, swirling, freezing version of hell. And his breath was running out.
    He pulled himself forward along the rope, scratching the skin off the palms of his hands. He had been swimming for almost two minutes, but it felt closer to ten. He had to open his mouth and breathe … even if it was water, and not air, that rushed into his throat. A silent scream exploded inside him. Pull, kick. Pull, kick. And then the rope tilted upward and he felt his shoulders come clear and his mouth was wrenched open in a great gasp as he breathed air and knew that he had just made it.
    But made it to where?
    Alex couldn’t see anything. He was floating in utter darkness, unable to see even where the water ended.
    He had left the flashlight on the other side, and he knew that even if he wanted to, he didn’t have the strength to go back. He had followed the trail left by a dead man. It was only now that he realized it might lead only to a grave.

BEHIND THE DOOR

    ALEX SWAM FORWARD slowly, completely blind, afraid that at any moment he would crack his head against rock. Despite the dry suit, he had long ago felt the chill of the water and knew that he had to find his way onto dry land soon. His hand brushed against something, but his fingers were too numb to tell what it was. He reached out and pulled himself forward. His feet touched the bottom. And it was then that he realized he could see. Somehow, from somewhere, light was seeping into the area beyond the submerged tunnel.
    Slowly, his vision adjusted itself. Waving his hand in front of his face, he could just make out his fingers.
    He was holding on to a wooden beam, a collapsed roof support. He closed his eyes, then opened them again. The darkness had retreated, showing him a crossroads cut into the rock, the meeting place of three tunnels. The fourth, behind him, was the one that was flooded. As vague as the light was, it gave him strength. Using the beam as a makeshift jetty, he clambered onto the rock. At the same time, he became aware of a soft throbbing sound. He couldn’t be sure if it was near or far, but he remembered what he had heard under Block D, in front of the metal door, and he knew that he had arrived.
    He stripped off the dry suit. It had served him well.
    The main part of his body was dry, even though ice cold water dripped out of his hair and