'Sure am,' Ben replied. He looked up to the sky. 'Hey, did you see the storm clouds last night?'
Angelo gave him a strange look. 'Storm clouds? No, Ben, I did not see any storm clouds. The sky is clear.'
Ben gave a moment's thought to explaining, but then decided not to. The sea was calling, and he could tell they were both eager to get started. Together they gathered up the equipment and trudged down to the beach where Angelo's speedboat — a sleek white machine — was moored, one of Angelo's father's helpers already aboard. There was no one else there at this early hour, just a few birds paddling on the wet sand and occasionally burrowing their beaks to look for food. Ben and Angelo waded out to the boat, carrying their gear above their heads, then slung it in and clambered aboard. As Angelo started up the motor himself, Ben noticed the ever-present figure of one of his bodyguards watching them from the shore.
The beach was shallow, so they had to motor a little way out to get enough depth for diving. By the time Angelo stopped the boat and let down the heavy motorized anchor, the bodyguard was just a dot in the distance. It was incredibly peaceful out here; their on-surface helper was so quiet he was almost invisible and there was nothing else but the splashing of the sea against the side of the boat for company. The two friends remained silent as they donned their canisters and masks before throwing themselves backwards over the side of the vessel.
The water was cold but not icy, and Ben soon got used to it. With Angelo alongside him, he kicked his way down, switching on the powerful underwater torch as they got too deep for the sun's light to penetrate fully. Instantly the ocean seemed to light up and a nearby shoal of brightly coloured fish swerved away from the sudden light in a single, graceful movement. Ben's ears were filled with the heavy sound of his own breath, and as he kicked even deeper he moved the torch around to try and find the bank of coral that he loved visiting so much.
It didn't take long to locate the complicated wall of colour that they were looking for. They approached it reverentially, as if they would scare it away if they were anything other than respectful. As they swam towards it, Ben saw the huge, flat form of a stingray. When he had first seen one of these strange, beautiful fish, he had been a bit fearful. But Angelo had explained that they rarely attacked human beings with their poisonous stinger, and Ben had learned to admire them at close range. The stingray drifted away and in its place another shoal of bright-yellow fish seemed to appear from nowhere. It was a beautiful sight, caught against the oranges and purples of the coral. Ben felt he could stay down there for ever.
Time never seemed to have any meaning underwater. It could have been half an hour or longer that they drifted around the coral bank, admiring the amazing range of sea creatures that congregated there. Ben knew that his oxygen wouldn't last more than an hour, though, so after a bit he decided, regretfully, that it was time to surface.
And it was at just that moment that he saw them.
They seemed to appear from nowhere — four divers, with bright beams and black wetsuits. Ben started, then quickly turned his head towards Angelo, who was also looking all around him, clearly surprised by the sudden company. Two of them were coming towards him and in the few seconds he had to look at their faces through the masks, Ben saw expressions of grim severity. Instinctively he kicked his flippers and tried to get away.
Immediately they were after him. From the corner of his eye, he could see that they had already grabbed Angelo, who seemed to be struggling. He wanted to go and help his friend, but what could he do against four fully-grown men? Indeed, what could he do against two of them — the two who were only metres behind him as he kicked as fast as he could and tried to get away? Panic surged through him. Who were they? What did they want? Shoals of fish flew out of his way as he forced the muscles in his legs to work hard, but it was no good. He felt the firm grip of a hand round his ankle. His body went into spasm as he tried to escape, but in seconds he was being firmly held by the two divers, who slowly started moving up towards the surface.
Ben's brain was working overtime, but there seemed no way he could escape. There wouldn't be much oxygen left in his canister and he knew that as he was struggling he was likely to be taking bigger breaths, which meant he could run out very soon. There was nothing for it but to see what these men wanted.
Suddenly the underwater silence was shattered by a roaring noise in his ears as they broke through the surface of the sea. Ben had only a couple of seconds to take everything in. It was so different to when they made the dive: the sky was grey and the sea, which had been calm and flat, was now angry and swelling. Angelo's boat was overturned, its hull bobbing up and down in the rough water. Then a wave hit Ben full in the face, blinding him momentarily and making him gasp for breath. When he emerged, he realized that the two divers had let go of him and the air was filled with their shouts. 'Get to the boat!' a voice called, full of urgency. 'Get to the boat!'
Ben looked around. Just beyond Angelo's speedboat there was another vessel — larger, but still struggling in the billowing waves. It bobbed out of sight momentarily with the swell. 'The boat!' a voice called again. A figure came into Ben's field of vision. It was one of the divers. He was close by. 'Ditch the gas,' the man shouted. 'Ditch it now! It's weighing you down!'
Ben found himself underwater again. He fumbled with the buckle that tied the air canisters to his body and was desperate to breathe by the time he got rid of them. It was easier to push himself up now. When he emerged again, he gulped hungrily at the air before hurling himself round the capsized boat and towards the bigger vessel.
He could see Angelo being pulled aboard, along with three of the other divers. Ben's muscles were burning with the effort; he felt weak. 'Keep going!' the voice called from behind him. Ben set his face into a grimace and urged himself forward.
It was dangerous approaching the boat — it seemed out of control, buffeted by the winds and the rough sea. Someone threw him a length of rope with a flotation ring tied to it. Ben only just managed to grab it before it was washed out of reach. He felt himself being pulled in. As he approached the boat a wave caught him and his face smashed against the side of the hull. It stung, but he grimly held onto the ring and slowly he was pulled up into the boat.
As soon as he was in, he felt his knees buckle. At the same time, the boat lurched. Ben fell awkwardly to the floor.
'Ben!' He heard Angelo's voice, but he couldn't see him. 'Il tuo viso! Stai sanguinando! Your face, it is bleeding!' Ben touched his hand to his cheek, then looked at it. Blood. He had obviously cut himself when he hit the side of the boat.
The wind was screaming now, so loud that it almost drowned out the noise of the motor being started up. Ben saw one more man — the helper who had been on board their small boat — being pulled up into the vessel before it suddenly moved away, crashing up and down through the billowing sea towards the shore. It was chaos on board — there seemed to be too many passengers for the small craft — and when Ben shouted he didn't really know who he was talking to.
'What's going on?' he screamed.
'Hurricane,' one of the men replied curtly. He had short-cropped blond hair, but as he was no longer wearing his mask, Ben couldn't tell if he was one of the guys who had grabbed him. ''Fraid you got whipped by the edge of it.'
'The edge of it?' Ben shouted. 'You mean the actual thing's worse?'
'Yeah, son. Much worse. This one came out of nowhere. Even the weather boys weren't expecting it. Good job we knew exactly where you were — your surface guy called it in, but you'd be fish food if we hadn't found you.'