Latissier's arrow slammed into Schofield's armored shoulder plate。 Schofield's arrow lodged in Latissier's hand as the big Frenchman covered his face with his forearm。 He roared with pain as he frantically began to reload his crossbow with his good hand。
Schofield quickly looked down at his own crossbow。
The French crossbows had five circular rubber slots on their sides in which spare arrows were kept for quick reloading。 Schofield's crossbow had five empty slots。
The mando he had taken it from must have used all but the last of his arrows earlier。 Now there were none left。
Schofield didn't hesitate。
He took five quick steps forward and hurled himself at Latissier。 He slammed into the Frenchman and the two soldiers went sprawling onto the catwalk behind the rung…ladder。
Gant was still lying facedown on the catwalk about five yards away when she saw Schofield tackle Latissier。 She leaped to her feet and was about to go over and help him when suddenly another French mando slid down the rung…ladder in front of her and； through a pair of black night…vision goggles； stared right into her eyes。
Rebound slowly made his way down the long； narrow tunnel。
There was a door at the very end of the tunnel。 The door to the drilling room。 It was ajar。
Rebound listened carefully as he approached the half…open door。 He heard soft； shuffling sounds from inside the drilling room。 Whoever had run past the storeroom earlier was now inside the drilling room； doing something。
He heard the man speak softly into a microphone of some sort。 He said； 〃Le piège est tendu。〃
Rebound froze。
It was one of the French mandos。
Rebound pressed himself flat against the wall next to the door and…still wearing his night…vision goggles…slowly peered around the door frame。
It was like looking through a video camera。 First； Rebound saw the door frame； saw it slide out to the right of his green viewscreen。 Then he saw the room open up beyond it。
And then he saw the man…also wearing night…vision goggles…standing right there in front of him； with a crossbow pointed directly at Rebound's face。
Even though the French mando standing in front of her was wearing night…vision goggles； Gant could tell that it was the one named Cuvier。
Jean…Pierre Cuvier。 The one who had shot her in the head with his crossbow right at the start of all this。 Even now； she could see the tip of that same arrow sticking out from the front of her helmet。 The bastard seemed to smile when he realized that he was facing off against the American woman he had shot earlier。
In a blur of green； he brought his crossbow up and fired。
Gant was about twenty feet away and she actually saw the arrow dip in the air as it covered the distance between them。 She sidestepped quickly； her gun hand flailing behind her； as the arrow thudded into her Maghook and sent it flying from her hand。
And then； before she knew it； Cuvier was right in front of her with his Bowie knife drawn。 He came in fast； his long…bladed hunting knife arcing down toward Gant's throat…
There came a sudden metallic zing as Cuvier's blade came to a jarring halt。
Gant had caught his blow with her own knife。
The two soldiers separated and began to circle each other warily。 Cuvier held his knife underhanded。 Gant held hers backhanded； SEAL…style。 Both still wore their night…vision goggles。
Suddenly Cuvier lunged and Gant swatted bis blade away。 But the Frenchman had a longer reach； and as they separated again he swiped at Gant's goggles and dislodged them from her head。
For a single terrifying moment Gant saw nothing。
Just blackness。
Total blackness。
In this darkness； without her goggles； she was blind。
Gant felt the catwalk beneath her vibrate。 Cuvier was lunging at her again。
Still blind； she ducked instinctively； not knowing whether it was the right move or not。
It was the right move。
She heard the swish of Cuvier's knife as it sliced through the darkness above her helmet。
And then she took the opportunity。
Gant thrust her hands forward in the darkness and grabbed Cuvier by the lapels。
〃You remember giving this to me；〃 she said； picturing the arrow sticking out from the front of her helmet。 〃Well； now you can have it back。〃
And with that Gant rammed her head forward。
With an explosion of blood； the arrow jutting out from the front of her helmet shot right through Cuvier's left eye and penetrated his brain。 The Frenchman let out a hideous； inhuman scream； and Gant felt a wash of warm blood instantly spray all over her face。
She quickly withdrew the arrow from the French soldier's head and he dropped to the floor； dead。
While Gant fought with Cuvier； Schofield and Latissier rolled around on the catwalk。
As they fought； Schofield heard noises everywhere。 Voices spoke frantically over his helmet inter：
〃…They're going round the other side！〃
〃…going for the other ladder！〃
Footsteps clanged on the catwalk above him。
A crossbow fired somewhere nearby。
Schofield heard a sudden snap as Latissier managed to lock another arrow into the bolt of his crossbow。 Schofield quickly elbowed the big Frenchman hard in the face； up under his night…vision goggles； broke his nose。 Blood splattered everywhere； all over Schofield's arm； all over the lenses of Latissier's goggles。
The Frenchman grunted with pain as he flung Schofield away from him； toward the edge of the catwalk。 The two men separated； and Latissier…still lying on the catwalk； half…blinded by the splotches of blood on his night…vision goggles… angrily brought his crossbow around toward Schofield's head。
Schofield was right at the edge of the catwalk； up against the railing。 He thought fast。
He caught Latissier's weapon hand as it came round toward him and then； in a very sudden movement； rolled himself off the edge of the catwalk！
Latissier had never expected it。
Schofield kept his grip on Latissier's weapon hand as he fell； and； hanging from it； he swung down onto the empty deck below。 Like a cat； Schofield landed on his feet and immediately raised Latissier's crossbow up at the underside of the D…deck catwalk and pulled the trigger。
Latissier was lying facedown on the catwalk…with his arm stretched awkwardly out over the edge…when the crossbow discharged。 At point…blank range； the arrow shot up through a gap in the steel grating； penetrated Latissier's night…vision goggles； and lodged itself right in the middle of the Frenchman's forehead。
Down in the drilling room； Rebound faced the crossbow…wielding French mando。
The Frenchman thought he had the upper hand； thought he had Rebound dead to rights。 He only forgot one thing。
Night vision is hell on peripheral vision。
He was standing too close。
Which was why he never saw the Maghook that Rebound was holding at his hip。
Rebound fired。 The Maghook shot out from its launcher and slammed into the Frenchman's chest from a range of three feet。 There came a series of instantaneous cracks as the French mando's rib cage collapsed in on his heart。 He was dead before he hit the ground。
Rebound took a deep breath； sighed with relief； looked at the drilling room in front of him。
He saw what the Frenchman had been doing and his mouth fell open。 And then he remembered what the Frenchman had said earlier。
〃Le piège est tendu。〃
Then Rebound looked at the room again。
And he smiled。
〃South tunnel；〃 Montana's voice said over Schofield's helmet inter。
Schofield was down on E…deck now； having swung down there on Latissier's arm。 He looked across the pool and saw a black figure running into the south tunnel。 It was the last French mando…save for the one who had rappelled down the shaft earlier。
〃I see him；〃 Schofield said； taking off in pursuit。
〃Sir； this is Rebound；〃 Rebound's voice suddenly cut across the airwaves。 〃Did you just say the south tunnel？〃
〃That's right。〃
〃Let him e；〃 Rebound said firmly。 〃And follow him down。〃
Schofield frowned。 〃What are you talking about； Rebound？〃
〃Just follow him； sir。〃 Rebound was whispering now。 〃He wants you to。〃
Schofield paused for a moment。
The