The second SAS mando was momentarily startled； and that was all Schofield needed。 He sprang to his feet like a cat and tackled the SAS man and both men went flying against the dashboard of the hovercraft。
The ensuing hand…to…hand fight was all one…way traffic。
The SAS guy was all over Schofield。 One hit to his injured throat and Schofield couldn't breathe； another to the rib cage and Schofield heard one of his ribs snap。 He doubled over and the SAS man grabbed him by his collar and belt and hurled him out through the destroyed forward windscreen of the speeding hovercraft。
Schofield thudded against the forward hood of the hovercraft。 His body ached； he couldn't breathe。 He coughed up blood as he looked up…
…just in time to see the SAS mando reach for his holster and draw his service pistol。
At the sight of the gun； suddenly Schofield's breath came back to him and everything became clear。
Speeding hovercraft。
Man； gun。
Certain death。
His body aching； Schofield rolled forward； toward the rounded bow of the hovercraft。 The black rubber skirt dropped away in front of him。 The ground rushed by beneath it at seventy miles an hour。
You are going to die。。。。
Schofield found a handhold and quickly lowered his feet over the bow of the speeding hovercraft。 His feet touched the speeding earth and skipped up off the surface。
The SAS man in the cabin seemed to be amused by what Schofield was doing； and he paused for a fraction of a second as he leveled his automatic pistol at Schofield's head。
Schofield…his face bruised； his teeth bloody； his body bent over the inflated skirt at the bow of the hovercraft… looked up at the SAS mando and smiled。 He saw the SAS mando smile back at him： And then he saw him raise his gun a little higher。
At that moment； Schofield ducked his head beneath the skirt of the hovercraft。 He heard the gun go off； heard the bullet ping off the top of the skirt。
Schofield was hanging off the bow of the speeding hovercraft now； pressing his body against the inflated rubber skirt。 His feet were dragging on the ground as it rushed by beneath him at incredible speed。
Suddenly he heard a sound and he looked up and saw the SAS man standing above him； on the forward hood of the hovercraft； looking down at him； with his gun still in his hand。
And as the SAS mando raised his gun to fire； Shane Schofield knew there was only one thing he could do。 He released his grip on the inflated rubber skirt and disappeared under the bow of the hovercraft。
The sound of the turbofans was absolutely ear…shattering。
Schofield's helmet slammed down against the ground； and Schofield slid on his back underneath the hovercraft。
The rush of air and the deafening roar of the four turbofans above him was like being in a wind tunnel。 Schofield saw the inflated insides of the skirt； saw the rapidly rotating blades of the turbofans…
And then he shot out from underneath the speeding hovercraft； and the deafening roar of the turbofans was gone as he slid on his back across the flat； icy plain behind the hovercraft he had been standing on only moments before。
Schofield didn't waste any time。
He rolled onto his stomach as he aquaplaned across the ice； and in one swift movement he drew his Maghook from behind his back and looked up at the rear of the hovercraft as it sped away from him。 He raised the Maghook and fired。
The bulbous magnetic head of the Maghook flew through the air； its tail of rope unspooling wildly behind it。 The magnet thudded into the metal wall of the cabin just above the hovercraft's skirt and stuck； and Schofield was suddenly yanked forward behind the speeding hovercraft。
He was now being dragged across the ice plain behind the speeding hovercraft； like a nailing water…skier trying desperately to get back on his feet again。
And then abruptly the ground all around Schofield was raked with gunfire。
Schofield spun to look behind him。
A second British hovercraft was right behind him！
It was bearing down on him； as if it were about to trample him。
Schofield rolled onto his back…holding onto his Mag…hook's launcher with one hand…as he was dragged behind the first hovercraft。 With his free hand； he drew his Desert Eagle and fired back at the pursuing hovercraft。 The Desert Eagle boomed； ripped open several holes in the skirt of the speeding hovercraft。
But the hovercraft didn't slow down。
It was almost on him。
It only had to get over him and then slow down slightly； and then the hovercraft would lower itself and he would be chopped to shreds by the turbofans underneath it。
The turbofans underneath it。。。。
Schofield desperately searched his brain for something； anything； anything that he could use to…
His helmet。
Still being dragged behind the first hovercraft； Schofield quickly holstered his gun and yanked off his helmet。
He would have to get this just right。 It would have to be bouncing； bouncing high； so that it would get caught up in the fan blades of the pursuing hovercraft。
Schofield tossed his helmet behind him。
The helmet flew through the air…it seemed to float for an eternity…and then it bounced on its dome and the pursuing hovercraft roared over the top of it。
Schofield guessed that the helmet must have bounced up into the forward fan of the hovercraft； because in that moment； in that sudden； shocking instant； the whole hovercraft just snapped over on itself and did a plete seventy…mile…an…hour cartwheel…it just flipped over on itself and came slamming down hard on its own cabin。 The battered hovercraft slid across the flat icy ground…on its roof； right behind Schofield…for about fifty yards before it ground to a halt and shrank into the distance behind him。
Schofield rolled back over onto his stomach。 His body bounced roughly on the hard； icy ground as it was dragged along behind the first hovercraft at phenomenal speed。 Tiny flecks of kicked…up ice assaulted his silver antiflash glasses。
Then he hit the black button on his Maghook…the button that reeled in the hook without demagnetizing it…and the Maghook began to reel itself in； drawing Schofield forward； toward the rear of the speeding hovercraft； until at last he reached the black rubber skirt。 The wind from the hovercraft's rear turbofan blasted his face； but Schofield didn't care。 He grabbed hold of a tie…down stud on top of the skirt and hauled himself up onto the hovercraft。
Five seconds later； he was standing in the open left…hand side doorway of the hovercraft。 He got there just in time to see the SAS mando slap Kirsty hard across the face and send her crashing to the floor。
〃Hey！〃 Schofield called。
The SAS man turned and saw him； and a sneer formed around his mouth。
〃Kirsty；〃 Schofield said； never once taking his eyes off the British mando。 〃Cover your eyes； honey。〃
Kirsty covered her eyes。
The SAS mando stared at Schofield for a long moment。 They just stood there； in the cabin of the speeding hovercraft； like two gunfighters facing off against each other on a deserted western street
And then in a sudden blur of movement the SAS man went for his gun。
Schofield went for his。
Both guns came up fast； but only one went off。
〃You can open your eyes now；〃 Schofield said as he stepped forward…over the body of the dead SAS mando…and bent down beside Kirsty。
Slowly； Kirsty opened her eyes。
Schofield saw the bruise forming around her left cheekbone。 〃Are you all right？〃 he said kindly。
〃No；〃 she said； tears welling in her eyes。 She pulled her asthma puffer out from her pocket and took two deep； sobbing puffs on it。
〃Me neither；〃 Schofield said； taking the asthma puffer from her and gulping down a couple of puffs himself before putting the puffer in his pocket。
Then he stood up and grabbed the steering vane of the British hovercraft。 As he drove； he popped the clip of his Desert Eagle and jammed in a fresh magazine。
Kirsty stepped up alongside him。 〃When you 。。。 when you went under the hovercraft；〃 she said； 〃I thought。。。 I thought you were dead。〃
Schofield jammed his pistol back into its holster and looked down at Kirsty。 He saw the t