Doug Allan

Italian troops, allied with the Germans, garrison the town, and Simone prepares to flee to Paris with the children, hoping it will be safer there.

In Toulon, Cousteau learns that the ship to which he was posted has been destroyed.

Now a sailor without a vessel, he is soon approached by a contact from the French resistance.

A Navy man with knowledge of photography is a valuable asset to the underground network.

Understanding the deadly consequences of being caught, he rises to the challenge and is soon undertaking his first missions.

It is a cold winter's day in 1942.

Jacques Cousteau studies himself in a mirror in the bathroom of a resistance-run restaurant.

The insignia of an Italian naval officer glints faintly in his reflection.

He adjusts the cap a fraction.

He is as ready as he'll ever be.

Nodding at his contact in the restaurant, he picks up his dispatch case and steps out into the street, walking towards the Italian naval headquarters in the dockyard.

Built in wind-bleached stone, its narrow windows are dark except for flickers of movements inside.

From a flagpole hangs the Italian naval flag, and guards stand at the entrance, rifles slung over their shoulders.

Cousteau moves towards them, and the stolen uniform does its work.

They glance at the insignia and look away.

He crosses the threshold of the building.

Inside, the sounds of the city are more muffled.

A narrow corridor stretches ahead and he recalls his instructions and tries a door.

First time lucky.

Inside the empty room, maps bloom across the walls with the Mediterranean etched in intricate detail.