Matthew Reilly - Ice Station

The IV done, Rebound stood up and was about to leave Mother when, strangely, he heard the sound of soft footsteps hurrying down the tunnel outside the darkened storeroom.

Rebound froze.

Listened.

The sound of the footsteps faded as they hurried off down the southern tunnel outside.

Rebound stepped forward and grabbed the doorknob and slowly, quietly, turned it. The door opened and he peered out into the tunnel through his night-vision goggles.

He looked left and saw the pool. Small waves lapped against the sides of the deck.

He looked right and saw a long, straight tunnel stretching away from him into darkness. He recognized it immediately as the elongated southern tunnel of E-deck that led to the station's drilling room.

Since it was the lowest level in the ice station, E-deck housed the station's drilling room?the room from which the scientists dolled down into the ice to obtain their ice cores. So as to maximize the depths to which the scientists could drill, the drilling room had been constructed as far into the ice shelf as possible?to the south of the station, where the ice was deepest. The room was connected to the main station complex by a long, narrow tunnel that stretched for at least forty meters.

Rebound heard the soft footsteps disappear down the long tunnel to his right.

After a short moment of pause, he raised his Maghook and ventured out into the tunnel after them.

Schofield fired his Maghook at Latissier.

The Frenchman ducked fast and the grappling hook thundered over the top of him and flew through the rung-ladder behind him. The hook looped itself over one of the rungs and knotted itself tight against the ladder.

Schofield threw his Maghook down and raised his crossbow at the same time as Latissier leveled his own at him.

The two men fired at the same time.

The arrows whistled through the air, crossing each other in midnight.

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 commando 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 commando 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 commandos.

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 commando 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 intercom:

"? 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 !