Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.

Chance had taught Winston how to dive, years ago. And every now and then they had practiced, even under difficult circumstances such as among sharks (only once) or in stormy weather. But this here was a far cry from anything they had ever tried. It was dark, it was cold, maneuvering was extremely difficult. Winston had thought the flashlights of the others would help him to orientate underwater, but actually they confused him, mainly because they were nothing but balls of light in the darkness, none of the beams stretching out more than a few inches.

He was just about to lose his sense of up and down when suddenly a tiny red light started blinking madly, a couple of feet from him. The signal that Guerrero was going to blow the first hole! Winston quickly swam backwards, bumped into something metallic, lost the grip on his flashlight. Damn it! It vanished between a heap of spiky rubble on the ground, irretrievable. Thank God he had a spare one, but if he kept blundering like that, he was putting the whole operation at risk.

He was putting Michele at risk.

Concentrate, Winston. You can't let her down again.

Something brushed against him. A hand, sympathetically patting his shoulder for a second. Chance? Ames?

No matter who, Winston's heart rate finally settled down. This was not resting on him alone. They were in this together.

Getting through the first hole was surprisingly unproblematic. Just like they had expected, the first sluice chamber was half-way underwater, level rising fast. The foam Guerrero had brought worked well, though, and they could quickly tackle the second gate.

As Chance watched the dim flash of the explosion that, he was sure, would create a perfect entrance, not too big to destabilize the steel, not too small to potentially damage one of their neoprene suits, he felt an icy-cold shiver run down his spine that had nothing to do with the water's temperature.

He hated having Ames on board. This job had everything in it that could lead to disaster – lack of light, huge amounts of water, a heavily armed crew under the command of an unscrupulous bastard. There had been a time in his life when that kind of situation had excited him. And, given his stunt show with the airplane not too long ago in Venezuela, he was still not completely immune against that feeling. But ever since the appearance of Ash, his perspective was slowly changing. With Ames now adding even more gravity to the issue, would it always be like that from here on? Would he become a worrier, like Winston?

There was no way he could push Ash out of his life again. And Ames had become vital to him, too. Back on the island he hadn't simply given in to a tempting situation. He had finally admitted what he had been longing for.

As he cautiously swam through the new hole, Chance decided that he would make the whole matter a tomorrow problem – by getting past the bad guys, freeing Michele, surviving this.

Just then, unbeknownst to them, a rather inexperienced young boatman steered his father's yacht up Smith's Channel although it was strictly forbidden at night. He was more than a little bit intoxicated and not exactly paying attention to where he was going. The whole world was a bit blurred and there was this blonde girl by his side…

Not really surprising that he saw the totally lightless boat floating by the canal's side at the level of Grange Avenue way too late.

Oh damnit, his father would kill him for this.

… … …

"What ruckus is that outside?", Innokentij asked, frowning. Normally he wouldn't have been present at his HQ at this time of night, but tomorrow the big auction would go down and he preferred being close to his momentarily most prized article. Better safe than sorry…

"An accident on Smith's Canal", his assistant replied, checking the local news and police radio. "Some rich boy bumped into an unlighted boat with Daddy's toy yacht."

Innokentij's frown deepened. "Where on Smith's Channel exactly?"

Grange Avenue.

The answer was no real surprise to him. Back when they had turned the subway station into the new HQ, Innokentij had contemplated putting sensors on the sluicegates, but technical difficulties, costs and the very low chance that anyone would be crazy enough to try and get in that way had kept him from ordering their installation.

Not bad, Mr. Chance, not bad…

"Gather a unit at the tunnel entrance", he told his assistant. "Another one by the canal. But tell them to be careful, there's probably still police or a rescue squad around thanks to the accident with the rich kid. We don't want to have to shoot some loyal servants of the city, do we? And let me take a look at the controls of the pump system for the sluicechambers. I didn't have them renovated for nothing."

But unfortunately not good enough.

… … …

Chance noticed it first. They were in the third sluicechamber by now. Almost no water in here. They had taken off their diving equipment to move more freely. "Guerrero, that noise…"

"Somebody activated the pumps." Simple statement, huge significance. The pumps were not emptying the chamber, they were filling it.

"What in the world…?" Ames watched with horror as the water's level steadily rose. In no time at all it seemed to reach first her ankles, than her knees… the water was rushing in with enormous pressure, threatening to push them off their feet. It was cold, so goddamn cold.

"The Russian dude is trying to flush us out – back into the canal. Where he probably has a crew waiting", Guerrero explained.

"How much explosives have we left?", Chance asked, eyes trained on the wall in front of him.

"I know what you're thinking, bro, and it's insane…"

"You, Ames, Winston, go back through the holes we've already made. Shouldn't be too difficult to blow them open again. They're most likely not waiting in the water but on the shore. Swim towards Yosemite Lake. There's a good chance they won't see you. I take the rest of the explosives and get Michele."

"NO WAY!" The yell came in complete unison.

"This is suicide!"

"She's right, bro."

"We can't leave Michele behind. This is our last chance to get her." Chance reached for the explosives in Guerrero's hands, but Winston was faster.

"You're not attempting this alone."

Chance looked at Winston. Winston looked at Chance. Their eyes met and neither looked away.

"Guerrero, take Ames and get out of here alive. Winston and I are going to get Michele." Chance was still locking eyes with Winston. The water had reached their hips by now.

"I need both of you to look after Ash. He's becoming a handful… too much for Philippa alone to handle… always pulling crazy stunts… must be his mother's side…" Now he finally faced them, lopsided smile on his face.

Ames stomach turned to ice. Everything in her wanted to scream at him, she wanted to grab him, drag him out of here…

But him asking her to look out for Ash… him trusting her with his son…

Guerrero nodded in silent resignation. He was a father, too. If the situation was reversed, he'd ask Chance the same thing. "Get your oxygen, Ames. No time for the suit."