Dive in the Sun by Douglas Reeman Read Free Book Online

already dressed in his tight diving suit, and sat uncomfortably in the “W and D” compartment, his face white against the dark skin of the shining costume.
    It had been terrible, waiting on the bottom for the coming of darkness, with his imagination torturing his thoughts and preventing the sleep which he craved so desperately. Coupled with that, the brittle atmosphere within the boat and unusual silence between his companions built up a fresh uneasiness, which the promise of action did little to dispel.
    He grinned lamely as Duncan craned his body round to squint at him through the narrow watertight door.
    ‘All set? Ready to have a go, kid?’
    Jervis nodded stiffly, the suit already dragging on his body. ‘Shan’t be sorry to get out and stretch my legs!’
    Curtis scrambled across the control-room, his face tight and grim. His eyes darted from the diving suit to the depth gauge, which stood steady at thirty feet. The slow turning screw of the boat kept her solidly against the net in the exact position required for her to burst through, as soon as the tough mesh had been cut.
    Without speaking, Curtis connected the oxygen supply and gently fixed the boy’s nose-clip in position. For a moment his blue, troubled eyes rested on Jervis’s face, and a brief smile of encouragement softened his hard expression. He gripped his hand tightly, the only part of his body to be left uncovered, and when he spoke his voice was quiet but surprisingly strong and steady.
    ‘Take it easy, Ian. If you find you can’t manage it alone, one of us’ll come out and give you a hand.’ The grip of Jervis’s hand tightened. ‘Promise me you won’t do anything crazy. We’ve got plenty of time for this job, and there’s no need for heroics.’
    Jervis nodded, and moistened his lips. ‘I’ll be careful, Skipper.’
    Taylor, sitting straddle-legged at the wheel, called hoarsely, ‘Good luck! Don’t take too long outside!’
    Curtis snapped the circular face-piece in position and clipped it tight.
    Jervis watched the preparations, suddenly aware of the great silence and feeling of loneliness.
    Without another glance Curtis closed the watertight door, and the diver was quite alone.
    He perched his body carefully on the edge of the “heads”, and began to breathe in regular, steady gulps of canned air. The compartment was so small that it always reminded him of the cupboard under the stairs at school, where he had nearly suffocated when locked in for a prank. The sides brushed his shoulders and his head was only inches beneath the curved deckhead.
    Shutting out the urge to panic, he reached out and twisted the valve which would flood his tiny compartment and enable him to escape to the outside.
    The pump started, and within seconds he felt the water swirling across his feet in an angry torment. Up and up, pressing the suit against his legs in a cool embrace, the water was soon lapping his buttocks and exploring his thighs. Nervously he plunged his hands deep, to accustom them to its temperature and to be ready for the work outside the hull. It was warmer than he had expected, and he placed them on his knees and watched them sink into the rising water like two pink crabs. Over his chest, around his neck, and with a sudden flurry, over his head. He was completely submerged. He waited a moment longer, and then, satisfied that the pump had ceased and conscious of the pounding of his heart, he allowed one arm to swim upwards to release the clips on the hatch. Holding carefully to the rim of the hatch, Jervis rose smoothly through the circular opening.
    Once clear, he twisted his body round, his limbs turning lazily to the pull of the water, until he faced the night-periscope, where he knew the skipper would be watching him, and gave the thumbs-up sign. A cloud of tiny silver air-bubbles, released from the folds of his suit, scattered towards the surface, and he lifted his face to watch them disappear above him. Already his fears were