Dive in the Sun by Douglas Reeman Read Free Book Online Page A

beginning to die, and in their place came the usual feeling of wild exhilaration which the very sensation of diving seemed to bring. He watched, wide eyed, the strange ceiling of the sea, less than thirty feet over his head, a vast, undulating sheet of green glass, speckled and spanned with long gold braids from the setting sun. Occasionally little groups of fish darted towards him, only to halt quivering in their flight before hurrying nervously away from the strange creature before them.
    Jervis moved slowly and leisurely along the dark casing of the hull, fascinated by the huge, towering shape of the net which wavered towards the boat like a spider’s web grappling with a fly. He released the powerful wire-cutter from its pocket inside the casing and gingerly took hold of the nearest mesh.
    Beneath him the submarine was poised and still but for the faint tremor of the slow-turning screw and the ribbons of weed which danced lazily from the hydroplanes.
    Jervis felt almost sorry for his companions cooped up in their steel shell, and wondered briefly what they were talking about.
    He checked the cutter and then laid the knife-edge on the first thick strand. Slowly and methodically he began to cut away the wire, snipping and sawing out the sections of the net in the shape of a giant inverted ‘V’, leaving the apex intact against the boat’s snout. It began to get darker, the water above and around him changing to a dark, mottled blue, and he lost all sense of time. His life and his thoughts were concentrated on the net and the cutter, which grew heavier and stiffer in his aching grasp. The muscles in his back protested at every move, and his hands felt raw and ice-cold. Once, in order to grip the cutter with two hands, he lost his footing on the net, and the weight of the heavy instrument dragged him downwards past the boat, before he could pull himself against the rough wire and drag himself painfully back to the widening hole, his blood pumping in his skull.
    Somehow he finished, and with a savage gulp at his air-supply, he hacked away the last strand. With a tired shudder the panel of wire folded over away from the boat, and their way was clear. He felt the boat begin to move, and slipping and sliding along the hull, he guided her through, holding the savage, torn wires clear of the hull until the net suddenly vanished astern in the gathering gloom.
    He returned the cutter and wearily groped his way into the open hatch.
    So weak was he by that time that he had to make several attempts to clamp down the hatch, and as he lowered his body on to the “heads”, he made the last effort and turned down the valve-handle.
    Mesmerized, he watched dully as the water began to fall away and some of the pressure on his chest started to subside.
    Still dazed, he saw the watertight door open and felt Curtis opening and removing his face-piece. He couldn’t hold the cup of tea which was offered him, but sat, shaking like a child, as Curtis held it to his lips.
    ‘Well done, Ian! Very well done!’ Curtis sank back on his haunches as if removed from some terrible doubt.
    The others called from the control-room, and Jervis gave a slow grin. ‘Boy, it’s damp outside!’ was all he managed to say.
    The next minutes dragged by as the boat moved cautiously across the wide harbour approaches. Each man concentrated on his job except Jervis, who lay back limply in his wet suit, eyes closed, his thoughts resting not on the last net, but the one ahead.
    Curtis checked his notebook once more and glanced at the clock.
    ‘Take her up. Periscope depth.’
    Duncan eyed him quickly before turning back to his instruments.
    He thinks I’ll do the same again, thought Curtis, a sudden spasm of white-hot rage coursing through him. Damn him!
    He lifted the periscope slowly, squinting frantically to accustom his eyes to the dusk and the distorted movement of the low wave-tops. For a while he could see nothing. Then, as he swung the thin tube in a