Chapter 18. A Dream Dies screaming.

Bond blinked against the sweat that was soaking down through his eyebrows

and twisted his head to look up at the laser turret, just visible above the curve of the globe.

The US shuttle was now at its mercy.

Bond looked along the metal seam he was clinging to and saw it joined the central globe.

Another protruding lip rose towards the turret. Stretching out an arm, Bond gritted his

teeth and performed the first painful movement towards achieving his goal. In what seemed an

agonizingly long period of time, he had pulled himself to the central globe

and made the perilous transfer to the vertical seam.

Now he felt as if there was a pile of sandbags on his back, pressing him against the surface.

Each foot of progress had been fought for at the cost of his fading strength.

With ten feet to go to the turret,

he saw the gun barrel being brought to bear again. He felt that he could almost reach out and touch it.

The turret lunged out of the dome, and he could see the portholes and the rectangular outline of a hatch in its side. Bond hauled himself along the seam and prayed

he would get there in time, and that the small red square at the bottom right corner of the

hatch was what he thought it was. Five feet, four feet, three feet. A face pressed against

one of the port-hawls would have seen him clearly.

He craned forward and saw the steel handle in its recessed cavity. Above it were the words

danger, external hatch opening, only to be used when the station secured in NP situation.

Tightening his grip with his left hand, Bond snaked out his arm and forced his fingers into the recess.

They closed about the handle and he braced himself and pulled.

Nothing happened.

...