"The bastard is in the blockhouse. There." Moreau motioned for the
first German Stasi, Schindler. "But get a move on. He may be up to
something."
With Moreau directing them, they quickly slipped the two sections of
the launcher together to form a single tube approximately a meter and a
half in length. The rocket grenade on the forward end looked like a
round arrowhead while the back was flared to dissipate the exhaust
gases. The sight and rangefinder occupied the center, and just in front
of that was the handgrip and trigger.
When they had finished, he checked it over, then surveyed the mountain,
where the heavy servomechanisms controlling the radars continued to
rotate.
Wait a minute, he told himself with a sudden chill in his groin.
Something's wrong. He's tilting the radar dishes _down._
_Mon Dieu!
_"Get ready."