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sand and small waves。 There were small patches of broken white on the coral and niggerheads in the intervening water。 Above the island； on top of the tall rocket gantries that showed as indistinct black skeletons； the red aircraft warning lights winked on and off。 Bond got his bearings and quietly jackknifed his body down below the surface。 He stopped at about ten feet and； keeping his body pointed like a pass needle along the course he would have to follow； lay； paddling softly with his fins to keep position； and waited for the rest of his team。
***
Ten minutes before； mander Pedersen's stolid calm had given way to controlled excitement。 〃By gum； it's working out like you said it would！〃 he had said wonderingly when Bond came into the attack center。 〃They hove to just about ten minutes ago； and since then the Sonar keeps on picking up odd noises； underwater noises； just what one would expect if they were getting things mobilized in that underwater partment of theirs。 Nothing else to go on； but it's quite enough。 I guess you and the boys had better get going。 As soon as you're out of the way； I'm going to float up a surface antenna and get a signal off to Navy Department； give them a Sitrep and have the missile station warned to stand by to evacuate if things go wrong。 Then I'm going to e up to twenty feet or so and have two tubes loaded and keep a periscope watch。 I'm issuing Petty Officer Fallon with a second flare。 I've told him to keep out of trouble as much as he can and be ready to let off the second flare if it looks as if things are going really bad for our side。 Unlikely； but I can't take chances with things as they are。 If that second flare es up； I'm going to close in。 Knock a piece or two off the Disco with the four…inch and then board her。 Then I'm going to be rough as hell until that bomb's been recovered and rendered safe。〃 The captain shook his head doubtfully。 He ran his hand over the black iron filings of his crew…cut。 〃This is one hell of a situation； mander。 We'll just have to play it by ear。〃 He held out his hand。 〃Well。 You'd better get going。 Good luck。 I hope my boys'll be a credit to the ship。〃
Bond felt a tap on his shoulder。 It was Leiter。 He grinned through his mask and jerked up a thumb。 Bond took a quick look behind him。 The men lay spread out in a rough wedge； their fins and hands working slowly as they marked time in the water。 Bond nodded and got going； moving forward with a slow； even trudge； one hand at his side and the other holding his spear up the shaft against his chest。 Behind him； the black wedge fanned out into formation and cruised forward like some giant delta…winged stingray on the prowl。 It was hot and sticky inside the black suit and the recirculating oxygen ing through the mouthpiece tasted of rubber； but Bond forgot the disfort as he concentrated on keeping an even pace and a dead steady course on a prominent niggerhead with waves washing its head that he had chosen as a fix for his first contact with the shoal waters。
Far below； where the dancing moon shadows could not penetrate； the bottom was even white sand with an occasional dark patch that would be seagrass。 All around there was nothing but the great pale luminous hall of the sea at night； a vast lonely mist through which； against his will and his intelligence； Bond expected at any moment the dark torpedo of a great fish to materialize； its eyes and senses questing toward the rippling shape of the black intruder。 But there was nothing； and nothing came； and gradually the patches of seagrass became more distinct and ripples showed on the sandy bottom as it shelved slowly up from fifty to forty and then to thirty feet。
To reassure himself that all was well； Bond took a quick glance over his shoulder。 Yes； they were all there； the oval panes of eleven gleaming masks with the fluttering fins kicking up behind them and the glint of the moonlight on the blades of the spears。 Bond thought： By God； if only we can achieve surprise！ What a terrifying ambush to meet ing at you through the shadows and shapes of the reef！ His heart lifted momentarily at the thought； only to be checked by the deep gnawing of his hidden fears about the girl。 Supposing she was part of the enemy team！ Supposing he came face to face with her。 Would he bring himself to do it…with the spear？ But the whole idea was ridiculous。 She was on board； safe。 He would be seeing her again soon； as soon as this work was done。
A small coral clump showed up below and refocused his mind。 Now he gazed watchfully ahead。 There were more clumps； the ink splashes of sea eggs； crowds of small glittering reef fish； a small forest of sea fans that beckoned and waved with the ebb and flow like the hair of drowned women。 Bond slowed and felt Leiter or Fallon bump into his fins。 He made the slowing signal with his free hand。 Now he crept carefully forward； looking for the silvery wash of the waves against the top of his navigation mark。 Yes； it was there； away to the left。 He was a good twenty feet off course。 He swerved toward it； gave the halt signal； and came slowly up under its protection。 With infinite caution he raised his head through the sucking waves。 He glanced first toward the Disco 。 Yes； she was still there； showing more plainly with the moon now full on her。 No sign of life。 Bond inched his gaze slowly across the intervening sea。 Nothing。 A flurry of wavelets down the mirrored pathway of the moon。 Now Bond slid round to the other side of the coral head。 Nothing but the broken waters of the shoal and； five or six hundred yards away； the clear coastline and the beach。 Bond searched the clear channels for unusual turbulence in the water； for shapes； for anything moving。 What was that？ A hundred yards away； on the edge of a big patch； almost a lagoon of clear water among the coral； a head； a pale head with the glitter of a mask across it； had broken the surface for an instant； taken a quick look around； and immediately submerged。
Bond held his breath。 He could feel his thrilled heart hammering against the inside of his rubber suit。 Feeling stifled； he took the breathing tube from between his teeth and let his breath burst out of him。 He quickly gulped in some mouthfuls of fresh air； got a good fix on the position； crammed the tube roughly between his lips and slid back and down。
Behind； the masks gazed blankly at him； waiting for a signal。 Bond jerked up his thumb several times。 Through the near masks he could see the answering flash of teeth。 Bond shifted his grasp on the spear down to an attacking position and surged forward over the low coral。
Now it was only a question of speed and careful navigation among the occasional higher outcrops。 Fish squirted out of his path and all the reef seemed to waken with the shock wave of the twelve hastening bodies。 Fifty yards on； Bond signaled to slow； to fan out in the attacking line。 Then he crept on again； his eyes； aching and bloodshot with the strain； boring ahead through the jagged shapes among the pale mist。 Yes！ There was the glitter of white flesh； and there and there。 Bond's arm made the hurling signal for the attack。 He plunged forward； his spear held in front of hi