Eleven Hundred Meters of Pure Regret

I filed for divorce the exact moment I discovered my wife had redirected the only rescue pod capable of saving our daughter from the deep oceanall to save her childhood sweethearts son, who had merely swallowed a mouthful of water at a shallow beach.

After the papers were signed, I threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a man possessed. I spent a decade learning the dark currents of this ocean until I knew them better than my own living room, eventually becoming the only specialist capable of executing a rescue at a depth of a thousand meters.

And then, the file of that same boy who had choked on water landed right back on my desk.

I stared at it, a cold smile tugging at my lips, before sliding the folder back to my partner.

"Not this time. I'm not diving."

"Are you out of your mind, Davis?"

Sally snatched the folder off the desk and slammed it open in front of me again.

"Ten million dollars. Do you know how many life-threatening risks we have to take to make that kind of money? If youre passing on this, you need to give me a real reason."

I pulled my heavy work gloves back on, ignoring her as I began my daily maintenance on the dive gear. "I'm not diving. That's the reason."

"Then look at this." Sally flipped the pages to the back of the file. "The structural integrity of his submersible is failing rapidly. The cabin is deforming, and he has less than twenty-four hours of oxygen left. There is a living, breathing twenty-three-year-old kid trapped in there!"

My hand froze on the pressure valve.

My daughter, Daisy, was twenty-three when she died down there.

"Davis, youre the only diver in this entire sector who can execute a docking rescue at that depth," Sally said, leaning in and lowering her voice. "If you don't go, he's dead. It's that simple."

I tightened the valve with a sharp twist, then turned to face her. "Sally, youve worked with me for seven years. Have I ever turned down a rescue because of a personal whim?"

She hesitated, caught off guard. "No. Never."

"Then leave it."

"But I don't understand," she pressed, her frustration bubbling over as she grabbed my arm. "Whether you know him or not, they are paying in cold, hard cash"

"I wouldn't dive for a hundred million." I gently but firmly pulled my arm from her grip. My voice remained flat, entirely devoid of emotion. "Don't ask me why. In seven years, I can count the number of jobs I've rejected on one hand. Just trust me on this one."

Sallys face flushed red, a dozen arguments clearly fighting for passage behind her teeth.

She had been with me since the beginning, back when I first got my deep-sea certification and was operating out of a rented tin shack on the docks. She had seen me get three ribs shattered by a rogue current at four hundred meters. She had seen me drag a breathless teenager back onto the deck and spend the rest of the night dry-heaving over the stern of the boat.

But she had never seen me like this.

"Fine," Sally said finally, snapping the folder shut and tossing it onto the table. "I trust you."

She turned toward the door but paused, her voice sounding muffled. "But that kid is still a living human being. If you change your mind... were ready to go."

The heavy metal door clicked shut behind her.

Left alone in the equipment room, I stared at the folder on the table. On the cover, the photo of Meredith Croft, the head of Meredith Marine, looked slightly older than she had ten years ago, but those sharp, uncompromising eyes hadn't changed at all.

A decade ago, my daughter was slowly suffocating, one agonizing breath at a time, at eleven hundred meters. And Meredith had diverted the only available rescue vessel because Sean had panicked over the phone, screaming that their son, Noah, had fallen into the water.

Noah had been in the shallows. He had lost his footing and swallowed a mouthful of saltwater.

I closed my eyes, pushing the file to the far corner of the desk.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Sally:

The client is on the line. Shes demanding to speak directly with the head of operations. Do you want me to patch her through?

I stared at the screen for a long moment before typing back two words:

Patch her.

"Hello? Am I speaking to the head of deep-dive operations?"

The voice on the other end was sharp, carrying the same effortless arrogance I remembered from a lifetime ago. Ten years hadn't softened it.

"Speaking. Go ahead."

My own voice was barely recognizable. A decade of breathing pressurized helium-oxygen mixes in freezing depths had permanently ravaged my vocal cords, leaving me with a harsh, gravelly rasp.

"Good. This is Meredith Croft from Meredith Marine. I assume you've reviewed the file." She paused, expecting a deferential response, but when I remained silent, she continued, "Name your price."

"I'm not taking the job."

There was a brief silence on the line. Then, she let out a dry, humorless laugh. "I don't think you heard me. I said name your price. Whatever it is, I'll pay it."

"And I said, I'm not taking it."

"Fifty million." Her voice didn't waver. To her, it was just a number. "Fifty million in cash. Half when you submerge, the other half when you bring him up. There isn't another salvage crew on earth getting an offer like this."

I kept my mouth shut.

Taking my silence for hesitation, she pushed harder. "If you want equity, we can discuss that too. Half a percent of Meredith Marine's non-voting shares, registered under your name. The annual dividends alone would"

"Ms. Croft," I interrupted, my voice cutting through her pitch. "My refusal has nothing to do with money."

I could hear her breathing turn heavy and erratic. "Then tell me why."

"There is no why. I have the right to refuse a contract."

"Your right?" Her voice suddenly turned ice-cold. "Do you have any idea what the situation is down there? The cabin is deforming at over a thousand meters. That is a human life!"

"I am aware."

"You're aware? And you're still sitting there saying no?" Her words began to spill out faster, thick with panic and rage. "You are the only person in this sector who can reach him in time. You didn't even hesitate to reject the call... this is criminal negligence. You're leaving him to die!"

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.

"Leaving him to die..." I murmured. "Coming from you, Ms. Croft, that's a fascinating choice of words."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I said, regaining my composure. "The point is, I cannot help you. You'll have to find someone else."

"There is no one else!" she nearly screamed. "I've already run the logistics. Your base has the only rig ready to deploy on this coast! If you won't save him, you owe me a reason!"

"Then I suppose you're out of luck."

"You" She took a sharp, ragged breath, clearly trying to master her temper. "Listen to me very carefully," she whispered, her voice low and venomous. "I don't care about your reasons, and I don't care about your attitude. I am giving you exactly two hours to reconsider. If your answer is still no by then... I will personally ensure that you and your little salvage yard are blacklisted from every harbor in the country."

I closed my eyes. "Ms. Croft, I suggest you save your breath. If you don't start looking for other options right now, you won't even have a body to bring home. Good luck."

I hung up.

Sally poked her head into the room, her eyes wide as she tried to read my expression. "Davis... that woman... did she threaten you?"

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and bent down to inspect the oxygen lines. "She can't touch me."

"But she" Sally hesitated. "She said shed shut us down."

"She can say whatever she wants. I don't owe her a damn thing."

Sally didn't push any further, but as she turned to leave, her expression was incredibly strained. "Davis... what did that family do to you?"

I tightened the final connection and wiped the grease from my hands. "She owes me a life."

Around three in the morning, Sally practically broke down my dorm room door.

"Davis, we have a problem."

I sat up instantly. She was pale, her hands shaking so violently she could barely hold her phone.

"It's my son..." she choked out. "Toby's company... they just transferred him out of accounting. They put him on the night-shift inspection crew for the deep-water drilling rig."

A heavy weight settled in my chest. "When?"

"Just now. He texted me. He got a sudden notice from HR telling him to board a helicopter tonight. Davis, he doesn't know anything about offshore work! He has a degree in finance! He doesn't even have a basic marine safety certification!"

"Did you try calling him?"

"Yes, but the signal is blocked out there." Sallys eyes filled with tears. "His last text said he just landed on the platform and told me not to worry. Then the phone went dead."

I took her phone. The message had been sent thirty minutes ago, accompanied by a blurry photo of a dark, steel deck overlooking a pitch-black ocean.

Just landed, Mom. The wind is crazy out here, but I'll call you tomorrow. Goodnight.

"Davis!" Sally dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. "It's her. I know it's that Croft woman. She's doing this to get to me!"

"Don't panic, Sally."

"How can I not panic?" she sobbed, clawing at her hair. "You know what the inspection crew does on those rigs. They walk the outer cat walks in the middle of the night. If a rogue wave hits..."

"She won't actually let anything happen to him," I said, trying to steady her. "She wants you to beg me."

Sally froze. Slowly, she looked up, her forehead resting against the cold concrete floor.

"Davis..."

"Get up, Sally."

"Davis, I know she must have done something unforgivable to you. I shouldn't ask this of you, I shouldn't... but Toby is only twenty-two. He's terrified of the water. He won't even go near the docks if he can help it..." She wept, her shoulders heaving. "Please. For the seven years I've stood by you... scream at me, fire me, do whatever you want... but please save my son."

I knelt beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sally, look at me."

She raised her tear-streaked face.

"I promise you, Toby is going to be fine."

"But are you..."

"I have other ways of handling her," I said, pulling her up from the floor. "I will get your son off that rig. But I am still not taking her contract."

Sally stared at me, bewildered and unable to speak.

Suddenly, a deafening roar shook the walls of the compound. The rhythmic, heavy thudding of helicopter rotors grew louder, vibrating through the floorboards.

A sleek, black helicopter bearing the silver crest of Meredith Marine was descending onto our gravel landing pad.

Before the rotors had even fully spun down, the cabin door slid open.

Meredith stepped out, dressed in a sharp, dark business suit, flanked by two burly security guards. Behind her came a man I recognized instantly.

Ten years, and Sean hadn't changed at all. Still the same soft-edged, fragile man who looked like he had never spent a day in the sun.

"It's them," I murmured, turning to Sally.

Sallys fear was rapidly turning into blind rage. She clutched her fists, her whole body trembling. "Davis, they brought security..."

"It doesn't matter," I said, grabbing my heavy canvas jacket from the rack. "Let's go."

Meredith stood in the center of the pad, her assistant hovering closely at her side. She cast a dismissive glance over our meager basethe rusted shipping containers, the oil-slicked docks, the frayed mooring lines. Her lip curled in effortless disgust.

Then, her eyes landed on me.

Her gaze lingered for barely a fraction of a second before moving past me.

She didn't recognize me.

I suppose I couldn't blame her. The man standing before her now bore no resemblance to the husband who used to hold her hand every morning ten years ago.

"Who's in charge here?" Meredith asked, her patience already exhausted.

Sally instinctively looked at me, and I took two steps forward, putting myself between them.

"I am."

She finally looked at me properly, her brows drawing together. "You?"

"Me."

She let out a cold, sharp laugh and whispered something to the guard beside her. Then, she turned her attention to Sally. "So, you must be Sally. I trust your son is enjoying his new assignment on my drilling rig?"

Sally lunged forward, but I caught her by the shoulder, holding her back. "Stay put."

Meredith watched Sally struggle against my grip, her smile widening into something cruel. "I told you that you had two hours to think about it. Since you didn't call, I decided to come collect your answer in person."

Sean stepped forward from behind her, his face a mask of performative anguish. "I know you must think we're being monsters," he said, his voice trembling. "But that is my son down there. Noah is only twenty-three, and hes been trapped in that dark cabin for fourteen hours..."

His eyes welled with tears as he reached out to clasp Meredith's hand. She gently patted his arm, her gaze hardening as she locked eyes with me.

"Fifty million. Ill wire it right now. Put on your gear and get in the water."

"I told you on the phone, Ms. Croft. I am not taking the job."

"Are you trying to negotiate with me?" She tilted her head, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Fine. What's your number? A hundred million? Two hundred? I know your type. You're just holding out for a bigger payday because you think you have me cornered. Name your price, and I'll pay it."

"It has nothing to do with money."

"Then what is it?" She took a step closer, trying to use her stature to intimidate me. "If it's not about the money, then what? Do you have some personal vendetta against me? Have we ever even met?"

I looked deep into her eyes. Once, those eyes had looked at me with tenderness. Now, they held nothing but cold, impatient transaction.

"No," I said quietly. "We've never met."

"Then there is no reason for this ridiculous holdout." She waved her hand dismissively, issuing her final ultimatum. "I don't care who you are, and I don't care about your pride. My son is suffocating at the bottom of the ocean, and you are the only one who can get him out. You have two choices: take the money and dive, or..."

She glanced sideways at Sally. "Toby is just an intern out there. He doesn't have his safety certifications. If there's an accident on the catwalk tonight, it won't even qualify for a worker's comp claim."

Sallys face went entirely bloodless. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not saying anything," Meredith replied smoothly. "I'm simply pointing out that accidents happen on oil rigs all the time. Especially to inexperienced greenhorns who don't know how to watch their footing."

"You... you're threatening my son's life!" Sally screamed.

Meredith didn't bother to deny it. She just kept her eyes on me. "And as for youif my son dies down there, you had better pray you never have an 'accident' of your own out on the water. I will make sure this ocean becomes a very dangerous place for you."

Sean stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Please, sir. I know this is terrible, but you're a human being. Surely you can understand a father's heart? My Noah is down there in the dark... he must be so cold, so terrified..."

He reached out to touch my shoulder.

I took a sharp step back. "Don't touch me."

Seans hand froze in midair, a flash of irritation crossing his face before he quickly masked it with sorrow. "I didn't mean to offend you... I'm just desperate..."

Meredith pulled him back to her side, her eyes cutting into me like knives. "This is your last warning. What is your answer?"

"No."

She laughed again, a harsh, mocking sound. "Fine."

She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed a number. "Get me the supervisor on Rig 4... Tell him to put the new intern on the outer platform patrol tonight. Yes, alone. Have him walk the lower deck."

Sally lost all control. She broke away from me and threw herself toward Meredith. "No! You can't do this!"

One of the security guards stepped in, shoving Sally back with enough force to send her crashing into a metal container.

"Davis!" Sally cried, scrambling up from the gravel and dropping to her knees in front of me, her face smeared with tears and dirt. "Davis... please... I beg you..."

Meredith hung up her phone and looked down at us. "See? It could have been so simple. You brought this on yourselves."

I looked down at the blood trickling from a scrape on Sallys temple, watching her whole body shake as she wept on the ground.

Then, I looked up at Meredith.

She still had that same self-righteous, untouchable expression. It was the same look she wore ten years ago, and the same look she wore now.

To her, other peoples lives were nothing more than bargaining chips.

"Do you honestly think I'm afraid of you?" I asked.

"Fear doesn't matter to me," she shrugged. "If you don't go down, your partner's son becomes a tragic statistic by tomorrow morning, and your little base will suffer a devastating accident shortly after. Is your pride really worth all of that?"

Sean tried to play the peacemaker again. "Please, sir. All you have to do is make one dive, and this all goes away. Well pay you, well fund your base, and the boy on the rig goes home to his mother. Why make this harder than it needs to be?" He smiled, his voice dripping with gentle persuasion.

I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath, letting the freezing sea air fill my lungs.

"I cannot rescue the boy who killed my daughter," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "And if you force me into that water, I will disconnect his hatch myself, and make sure we both stay down there forever."