if.thunderball-第50节

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ted　States　submarine？　His　men　had　fought　back　with　their　shark　guns；　but　only　because　they　had　been　attacked　first。　Once　again　the　treasure…hunt　cover　would　hide　everything！
　
　The　men　were　still　wrestling　with　the　coupling。　Largo　was　looking　back　anxiously。　Bond　measured　the　distance　and　flung　himself　forward　with　a　great　kick　against　the　coral。
　
　Largo　turned　in　time　to　fling　up　an　arm　and　parry　Bond's　stab　with　his　right…hand　spear　and　Bond's　stab　with　the　left　rattled　harmlessly　off　the　aqualung　cylinders　on　Largo's　back。　Bond　drove　on　head　first；　his　hands　outstretched　for　the　air　tube　in　Largo's　mouth。　Largo's　hands　flashed　to　protect　himself；　dropping　his　two　spears　and　jerking　back　the　joystick　he　had　been　holding　in　his　right。　The　Chariot　surged　forward　away　from　the　two　guards　and　shot　obliquely　upward　toward　the　surface　while　the　two　bodies　clung　and　struggled　on　its　back。
　
　It　was　impossible　to　fight　scientifically。　Both　men　tore　vaguely　at　each　other　while　their　teeth　clenched　desperately　on　the　rubber　mouthpieces　that　were　their　lifelines；　but　Largo　had　a　firm　grip　on　the　Chariot　between　his　knees　while　Bond　had　to　use　one　hand　to　hang　on　to　Largo's　equipment　to　prevent　himself　from　being　thrown。　Again　and　again　Largo's　elbow　crashed　into　Bond's　face　while　Bond　dodged　from　side　to　side　to　take　the　blows　on　the　mouth　and　not　on　the　precious　glass　of　his　mask。　At　the　same　time　Bond　hammered　with　his　free　hand　at　his　only　target；　Largo's　kidneys；　beneath　the　brown　square　of　flesh　that　was　all　he　could　reach。
　
　The　Chariot　broke　surface　fifty　yards　down　the　wide　channel　leading　to　the　open　sea　and　tore　crazily　on；　its　nose；　tilted　by　Bond's　weight　over　the　tail；　sticking　at　forty…five　degrees　out　of　the　water。　Now　Bond　was　half　in　the　wash；　and　it　would　only　be　minutes　before　Largo　managed　to　twist　and　get　both　hands　to　him。　Bond　made　up　his　mind。　He　let　go　of　Largo's　aqualung　and；　clutching　the　stern　of　the　torpedo　between　his　legs；　slid　back　until　he　felt　the　top　of　the　rudder　at　his　back。　Now；　if　he　could　avoid　the　screw！　He　reached　one　hand　down　between　his　legs；　got　a　firm　grip　on　the　rudder；　and　heaved　himself　backward　and　off　the　machine。　Now　his　face；　inches　away　from　the　whirring　propeller；　was　buffeted　by　the　turbulence；　but　he　dragged　hard　downward　and　felt　the　stern　ing　with　him。　Soon　the　damned　thing　would　be　almost　upright。　Bond　wrenched　the　blade　of　the　rudder　sideways　in　a　right…angled　turn　and　then；　his　arms　almost　torn　out　of　their　sockets　by　the　strain；　let　go。　Above　and　in　front　of　him；　as　the　torpedo　veered　right…handed；　Largo's　body；　thrown　by　the　sharp　turn　and　the　change　of　balance；　crashed　into　the　water；　twisted　quickly　over　and　faced　downward；　the　mask　searching　for　Bond。　Bond　was　beat；　utterly　defeated　by　exhaustion。　Now　there　was　nothing　for　him　but　to　get　away　and　somehow　stay　alive。　The　bomb　Was　immobilized；　the　Chariot　gone；　careering　in　circles　over　the　sea。　Largo　was　finished。　Bond　summoned　the　remains　of　his　strength　and　sluggishly　dived　down　toward　his　last　hope；　a　refuge　among　the　coral。　Almost　lazily；　Largo；　his　strength　unimpaired；　came　down　after　him；　swimming　in　a　giant；　easy　crawl。　Bond　swerved　in　among　the　coral　heads。　A　white　sand　passage　showed　up　and　he　followed　it；　then　there　was　a　fork。　Bond；　trusting　to　the　small　extra　protection　of　his　rubber　suit；　followed　the　narrower　lane　between　the　sharp　clumps。　But　now　a　black　shadow　was　above　him；　following　him。　Largo　had　not　bothered　to　get　into　the　channel。　He　was　swimming　above　the　coral；　looking　down；　watching　Bond；　biding　his　time。　Bond　looked　up。　There　was　a　gleam　of　teeth　round　the　mouthpiece。　Largo　knew　he　had　got　him。　Bond　flexed　his　fingers　to　get　more　life　into　them。　How　could　he　hope　to　defeat　those　great　hands；　those　hands　that　were　machine　tools？
　
　And　now　the　narrow　passage　was　widening。　There　was　the　glint　of　a　sandy　channel　ahead。　There　was　no　room　for　Bond　to　turn　round。　He　could　only　swim　on　into　the　open　trap。　Bond　stopped　and　stood。　It　was　the　only　thing　to　do。　Largo　had　him　like　a　rat　in　a　trap。　But　at　least　Largo　would　have　to　e　in　and　get　him。　Bond　looked　upward。　Yes；　the　great　gleaming　body；　followed　by　its　string　of　silver　bubbles；　was　forging　carefully　on　into　the　open　water。　Now；　swiftly；　like　a　pale　seal；　he　dived　down　to　the　firm　sand　and　stood　facing　Bond。　Slowly　he　advanced　between　the　walls　of　coral；　the　big　hands　held　forward　for　the　first　hold。　At　ten　paces　he　stopped。　His　eyes　swiveled　sideways　to　a　coral　clump。　His　right　hand　shot　out　at　something　and　gave　a　quick　yank。　When　the　hand　pulled　back；　it　was　writhing；　writhing　with　eight　more　fingers。　Largo　held　the　baby　octopus　in　front　of　him　like　a　small；　waving　flower。　His　teeth　drew　away　from　the　rubber　mouthpiece　and　the　clefts　of　a　smile　appeared　in　his　cheeks。　He　put　up　one　hand　and　significantly　tapped　his　mask。　Bond　bent　down　and　picked　up　a　rock　covered　with　seaweed。　Largo　was　being　melodramatic。　A　rock　in　Largo's　mask　would　be　more　efficient　than　having　an　octopus　slapped　across　his。　Bond　wasn't　worried　by　the　octopus。　Only　a　day　before　he　had　been　in　pany　with　a　hundred　of　them。　It　was　Largo's　longer　reach　that　worried　him。
　
　Largo　took　a　pace　forward　and　then　another。　Bond　crouched；　backing　carefully；　so　as　not　to　cut　his　rubber　skin；　into　the　narrow　passage。　Largo　came　on；　slowly；　deliberately。　In　two　more　paces　he　would　attack。
　
　Bond　caught　a　glint　of　movement　out　in　the　open　behind　Largo。　Someone　to　the　rescue？　But　the　glint　was　white；　not　black。　It　was　one　of　theirs！
　
　Largo　leaped　forward。
　
　Bond　kicked　off　the　coral　and　dived　down　for　Largo's　groin；　the　jagged　rock　in　his　hand。　But　Largo　was　ready。　His　knee　came　up　hard　against　Bond's　head　and　at　the　same　time　his　right　hand　came　swiftly　down　and　clamped　the　small　octopus　across　Bond's　mask。　Then　from　above；　both　his　hands　came　down　and　got　Bond　by　the　neck；　lifted　him　up　like　a　child；　and　held　him　at　arm's　length；　pressing。　Bond　could　see　nothing。　Vaguely　he　felt　the　slimy　tentacles　groping　over　his　face；　getting　a　grip　on　the　mouthpiece　between　his　teeth；　pulling。　But　the　blood　was　roaring　in　his　head　and　he　knew　he　was　gone。　Slowly　he　sank　to　his　knees。　But　how；　why　was　he　sinking？　What　had　happened　to　the　hands　at　his　throat？　His　eyes；　squeezed　tight　in　agony；　opened　and　there　was　light。　The　octopus；　now　at　his　chest；　let　go　and　shot　away　among　the　coral。　In　front　of　him　Largo；　Largo　with　a　spear　sticking　horribly　through　his　neck；　lay　kicking　feebly　on　the　sand。　Behind　him　and　looking　down　at　the　body　stood　a　small；　pale　figure　fitting　another　spear　into　an　underwater　gun。　The　long　hair　flowed　round　her　head　like　a　veil　in　the　luminous　sea。
　
　Bond　got　slowly　to　his　feet。　He　took　a　step　forward。　Suddenly　he　felt　his　knees　beginning　to　give。　A　wave　of　blackness　began　to　creep　up　over　his　vision。　He　leaned　against　the　coral；　his　mouth　slackening　round　the　oxygen　tube。　Water　seeped　into　his　mouth。　No！　He　said　to　himself。　No！　Don't　let　that　happen！
　
　A　hand　took　one　of　his。　But　Domino's　eyes　behind　her　mask　were　somewhere　else。　They　were　blank；　lost。　She　was　ill！　What　was　the　matter　with　her？　Bond　was　suddenly　awake　again。　His　eyes　took　in　the　blood　patches　on　her　bathing　dress；　the　angry　red　marks　on　her　body　between　the　scraps　of　bikini。　They　would　both　die；　standing　there；　unless　he　did　something　about　it。　Slowly　his　leaden　legs　began　to　stir　the　black　fins。　They　were　moving　up。　It　wasn't　so　difficult　after　all。　And　now；　vaguely；　her　own　fins　were　helping。
　
　The　two　bodies　reached　the　surface　together　and　lay；　face　downward；　in　the　shallow　troughs　of　the　waves。
　
　The　oyster　light　of　dawn　slowly　turned　pink。　It　was　going　to　be　a　beautiful　day。
　
　24。　〃Take　It　Easy；　Mr。　Bond〃
　
　Felix　Leiter　came　into　the　white；　antiseptic　room　and　closed　the　door　conspiratorially　behind　him。　He　came　and　stood　beside　the　bed　where　Bond　lay　on　the　edge　of　drugged　sleep。　〃How's　it　going；　feller？〃
　
　〃Not　bad。　Just　doped。〃
　
　〃Doctor　said　I　wasn't　to　see　you。　But　I　thought　you　might　care　to　hear　the　score。　Okay？〃
　
　〃Sure。〃　Bond　struggled　to　concentrate。　He　didn't　really　care。　All　he　could　think　about　was　the　girl。
　
　〃Well；　I'll　make　it　quick。　Doctor's　just　doing　his　rounds　and　I'll　get　hell　if　he　finds　me　here。　They've　recovered　both　bombs；　and　Kotze…the　physicist　chap…is　singing　like　a　bird。　Seems　SPECTRE'S　a　bunch　of　really　big…time　hoodlums…ex…operators　of　SMERSH；　the　Mafia；　the　Gestapo…all　the　big　outfits。　Headquarters　in　Paris。　Top　man's　called　Blofeld；　but　the　bastard　got　away…or　anyway　they　haven't　caught　up　with　him　yet；　according　to　C。I。A。　Probably　Largo's　radio　silence　warned　him。　Must　be　quite　a　Mister　Genius。　Kotze　says　SPECTRE'S　banked　millions　of　dollars　since　they　got　going　five　or　six　years　ago。　This　job　was　going　to　be　the　final　haul。　You　were　right　about　Miami。　It　was　going　to　be　Target　No。　2。　Same　sort　of　operation。　They　were　going　to　plant　the　second　bomb　in　the　yacht　basin。　Bond　smiled　weakly。　〃So　now　everybody's　happy。〃　〃Oh；　sure。　Except　me。　Haven't　been　able　to　get　away　from　my　damned　radio　until　now。　Valves　were　almost　blowing。　And　there's　a　pile　of　cipher　stuff　from　M　just　longing　for　you　to　g