Extend the Story - Add a Room

Something glinted from the front of the boat. A handgun. Glock 22 to be specific as Wolf knew. A gun favored by those in his profession from its round capacity. The culprit was trying to shoot at him, that much was clear, but thinking they could do it without looking? That was extremely cocky. But still, he was closer to death than he had been throughout his entire investigation. He had to end this.
Wolf felt his muscles relax, as he focused, He had one shot, but it was all he needed, All the fear and anxiety at the chance of failure vanished from his mind the instant he made the decision. All distractions from the rushing water, burning wind that ripped past, the glock aimed at his heart, and increasing numbness that permeated his person, were snuffed. It was just him, his gun, and the target. Everything else just stopped. It was do or die, and Wolf was ready to do..
Time seemed to slow as the spear launched from the shaft of the speargun. It caught the sun just right. It was make for a damn good cover for an album centered around classical literature like moby dick. As the spear ripped through the gun just as it, fired, spraying the front of the yacht in splintered metal and blood, Wolf realized that it would make for a damn good cover for an album centered around beating the untouchable. Then he cursed at himself for thinking such weird thoughts. Weird thoughts were his partner's thing, not his. He was normal, dammit. Wolf dropped the speargun and clutched onto the the boat as his perception of time resumed to normal. A bloodcurdling scream shot through the air like the spear he just fired. It was a scream not just of pain, but of anger at failure. A scream Wolf very much hoped he would never hear coming from himself. The yacht slammed into a boulder, sending it into the air for about a second as it split apart. Wolf lost his grip and was sent hurtling down into the frigid water. Completely disoriented and still reeling from the shock he could barely think as he fell down an underwater tunnel system. Eventually, he was left in frigid blackness. Underwater, with no speargun to protect him. He was fully on his own. After feeling around for a few seconds he realized he was in a circular cavern, surrounded by tunnels going in many different directions. Funnily enough, it reminded him of the spokes in the wheel he was in just a minute prior. And speaking of a minute, that was about as much time he had, as he would run out of air rather quickly. What direction would the Detective derive as divine?

Southwest