This is the story of the survivors of an oil-tanker torpedoed in the Indian Ocean a thousand miles from the African coast. Thirty-nine men, some of them horribly wounded by machine-gun fire, struggle into the only surviving boat. Some die of wounds; some, unable to endure the blinding heat, the hunger and thirst, and the jam-packed immobility, go mad and leap to the sharks which are their constant companions. Forced to strip to avoid the rubbing of each other's clothes on open sores, the survivors endure an even greater form of torture than the Indian sun when bitter squalls freeze their shrivelled bodies. With nothing but an obstinate faith in survival to keep them alive, their hatred and jealousies, their old grievances and long fought feuds still fester and erupt. As tough a crowd as ever crewed a tanker, neither thirst nor starvation nor even the daily inroads of death can still them. Day after day, night after night, their flesh turning putrid, their nerves stretched beyond endurance, their lifeboat idly wallows in a vast world of never-ending, sullen sea or, caught in a maelstrom of wind and water, is carried helplessly and hopelessly off the vague direction of their pitifully indeterminate course. Day after day they fight for survival.

It begins with a phone call. Gordon Reeve's brother has been found dead in his car in San Diego – the car was locked from the inside, a gun in his hand. In the US to identify the body Gordon comes to realise that his brother has in fact been murdered. What's more, it is soon obvious that his own life is in danger. Once back in Scotland he finds out that there have been more visitors than usual to his house and his home has been bugged by professionals. But Reeve is a professional too. Ex SAS, he was half of a two man unit with someone he came to fear, then to hate. It looks like his Nemesis is back. The horror has just begun…