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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