"Tommy!"

He heard Barbara's cry as he rolled back into the water. It was cold - much colder than it had seemed earlier. Tommy took a deep breath and duck dived beneath the surface. The nerve agent was neutralised by water, but he was unsure that releasing it just beneath the surface was sufficient. What if some drifted to the surface? He could not take that risk with Barbara's life, and if winds carried it to the innocent people of Ilulissat, he would have killed them too. He would rather die than endanger others.

His ears began to ache as he kicked deeper. He tightened his thumb and forefinger over his nostrils and blew gently. His ears cleared with a sucking sound. He struggled deeper. The water was a dark but comforting sapphire. The light seemed to dance around, reflecting off the submerged ice. He swam towards the darkest patch of sea. A jolt of adrenaline ran through him as he realised he was disoriented. Which way is up? He stopped and blew a small bubble of air from his lips. It went beneath him and expanded as it got further away. He was upside down. He somersaulted over until he was upright. With his feet down, he began to sink faster. He equalised his ears again then began to paddle his feet to tread water. He estimated he was about twelve metres down and sinking fast. He kicked off his shoes and kicked.

With only one functional arm and shivering in the cold, undoing the clip on the perspex box was more difficult than he thought. It took vital seconds. Holding his breath was something he had done a lot in the surf at Nanrunnel, but he was no longer fourteen and bulletproof. He desperately wanted to breathe. His chest was tight. He ignored it. When the lid fell open, he plunged his hand inside to retrieve the canister. His fingers sank into a gelatinous goo. The cylinder was encased in a further layer of protection. Shit!

He tugged at the canister until it came out of the box, which he allowed to fall away. Holding the metal in his crippled hand, he scraped frantically at the goo. It peeled away in chunks. Without a mask, the water distorted his vision. He felt around the cylinder trying to work out how it opened, cursing that he had not examined the box on the surface. It felt like it screwed open in the middle. That made no sense if it contained powder. His thoughts were slow and foggy. Does it have to make sense? What in this whole case has made sense? Barbara. He smiled.

Black tinged the edge of his vision. He could no longer feel his legs. Desperate for a taste of fresh, sweet air, he clamped the end of the canister between his knees and turned the top. At first, it resisted, then it gave and rotated freely. He pulled off the top half expecting the powder to float. Nothing happened.

His heart pounded in his head and his throat. Breathe. Breathe. His mind was urging him to free his body of pain. Barbara's face smiled at him. He looked at the canister. Inside was a glass tube full of white powder. He pulled it out. It was stopped by a wedge of black rubber. He gripped the rubber in his teeth and tugged.

A cloud of red surrounded him and merged into the blue. He had no idea if it was the nerve agent or if his insides had exploded. Everything in his body felt tight and yet numb. His lungs gave one last scream for him to breathe. He shook his head in defiance. He let out a small bubble of air and watched it rise. He kicked twice to try for the surface, but it was as if he was inside a giant wobbly raspberry jelly. His vision narrowed to a faint point of light. He frowned. Is that an eye? He looked up into blackness. Barbara's face filled his mind. Breathe. Breathe.

Barbara watched Tommy dive. She fought her instinct to jump in after Tommy. She knew it would kill them both. His best chance was having her to help him back onboard. She looked at the sky hoping the satellite's resolution was enough for them to lipread. "Don't do anything foolhardy they said. Don't be a hero they said." She shook her fists at them. "Well, where is the bloody help? What the hell was he supposed to do?"

She turned back to look for Tommy. Her hands gripped the rope on the rib's skirt in a death hold. Her breathing was furious and her head felt as if Big Ben was striking every second. Tommy was twisting and turning. His feet were flapping. Something fell away. "The box. Come on, hurry, Tommy."

"He'll die down there."

She turned to Wyatt. "If he dies, so will you. That I promise." She turned her attention back to Tommy. He was pulling at something but through the distortions of the waves, she could not see clearly.

"Tough words little lady. What exactly will you do without killing yourself?"

"If Tommy dies, I don't want to live." In those few words she had formulated a plan.

Barbara's eye caught movement to her left. She glanced up to see a black body rise from the water then plunge under. She ignored and turned back to Tommy. He seemed to be shuddering in the water, then a red stain spread around him. "Tommy!"

Barbara feared the worst as a black shadow moved under him. For a moment Tommy looked up and their eyes locked. She willed him to come to her. The black shadow darkened. Barbara screamed as it engulfed Tommy.

The red water obscured her view. Tommy suddenly surfaced. She reached out to him and grabbed his shirt. With energy and strength she did not know she had, she pulled him against the boat. He was heavy and did not seem to be breathing. The boat rocked. Tommy rose in the water. Barbara pulled, and his body thumped down on the rubber side. Red water gushed from his mouth. The boat rocked again. Tommy spluttered and fell forward on his face. He wheezed and gasped for air. His hand tore at his shirt that had ridden up around his neck. Barbara tried to pull him onboard. She felt watched. As she reached over the edge to swing his leg over the side, a huge eye stared at her. For a moment she and the eye stared at each other. She bowed. "Thank you," she added hoping the whale would understand.

The whale closed its eye and majestically slid away from the boat. Barbara did not believe in miracles, but she felt she had just witnessed one. It was impossible to tell if the whale understood, but staring into its eye, she had believed it knew. It had felt Tommy's distress and had saved him.

"Tommy! Can you hear me?" She thumped him on the back then rolled him on his side into the recovery position. He was coughing up water. It was red. Blood? He looked uninjured, but his skin was patchy and blue. His breathing was fast and erratic.

Barbara took a deep breath. He needed warmth and a hospital. Barbara rummaged in the box and pulled out the rubber suit. She tore Tommy's clothes off as fast as she could and stuffed his limbs into the suit. She screamed in pain as she moved his arm. His eyes shot open before closing. He passed out. Barbara zipped up the suit and pulled the hood over his head. She pushed him up into a sitting position then stood and pulled him on top of Wyatt.

"What the hell are you doing?" The American wriggled but was held firm by the rope.

Barbara quickly lashed Tommy on top of him. "Getting him up off the cold deck and hoping that some of your body heat is put to good use."

"He's freezing."

"I know." Barbara rubbed the suit vigorously hoping that it might generate some warmth. Being dark rubber, she hoped that the sun might also help.

She moved to the outboard, put the key into the slot. After three curse-filled attempts, the engine fired. The beach was only a kilometre away, but Madison was probably waiting with a bullet for them. She revved the engine and headed towards the open bight, hoping that Ilulissat was just around the corner.

Tommy's chattering teeth and shuddering were audible over the engine. As Barbara rounded the point, she could see the fuel tanks in the distance. "Hang on, Tommy."

Barbara's head was on fire. It took all her energy to focus on the tanks and will the little zodiac forward. The day was bright, and the sun shone off the walls of the icebergs floating around her. She rounded one and thought how beautiful the yellow building on the shore was against the white.

"Yellow. Yellow." She turned the boat towards the building. "Hospitals are always yellow."

About 200 yards from shore, she heard the roar of a large outboard. She looked to her right. A large speedboat was beelining for her. She groaned. She was just about at the end of her patience. "Who now?"

The boat caught her just as she ran the zodiac up onto the beach. Armed men in black dive suits swarmed over; their guns pointed at her.

"Identify yourself," a tall blonde man said in flawless English.

"Detective Inspector Barbara Havers, London Metropolitan Police. And who the fuck are you?"

The man's head jerked back in surprise. "Hans Petersen, Danish Navy."

A shorter man to his left started talking into his shoulder. "Affirmative. Havers and two males."

"Now you turn up. About bloody time."

Hans lowered his weapon, but the three other men kept them trained on Tommy. "Who are they?"

"Tommy Lynley, my partner. He's on top. He needs urgent medical attention. The other is a terrorist."

Barbara looked up to see people running down the beach towards them. A young woman seemed to take charge. She flashed a light in Tommy's eyes, ordered them to cut him free, then shouted for two of the Danes to carry him to the hospital.

Barbara went to follow. She took three steps then fainted into the Hans' arms.

Yes, the whale does sound far-fetched, but I have seen them up close like that and you would swear they know.