Beats Hermann again

Saxon checked his pockets for anything he could use, and his fingers
touched the vu-phone. He drew it out and considered it for a second before
hitting the redial key. There was a good chance he wasn't going to get out of
this alive; if he could make his last few minutes count, maybe
contact the hacker-movement from the corner of his eye spun him around,
and he forgot the phone, coming up with the Buzzkill. He saw a flash
of spiked blond hair and a figure in black combat gear burst from the shadow
of a storage cabinet. Gunther Hermann collided with Saxon with
such force that they were both propelled across the galley and through a
folding partition into the next anteroom.

"This time it will be different," Hermann snarled. "I think I will enjoy this."
He struck out with a storm of blows that made Saxon's skull ring,
lighting flares of pain behind his eyes. Blood hazed his vision and he threw a
punch that cut empty air but little else. Hermann came in and hit
him again; each shot to the head was like taking a hit from a sledgehammer.

Saxon's body possessed a base level of subdermal armor, the
Rhino-class augmentation commonplace on Belltower spec-ops soldiers, but
it wouldn't be enough to prevent the German's rain of punches
pushing him into a concussion. He had to stop the mercenary, and he had to
do it quickly.

Hermann had learned his lesson from their brief battle in the fight room,
moving constantly, using his nerve-jacked speed to stay outside the
swings from Saxon's cyberarm. He punched at air, drawing a sneer from the
German.

He feinted into another haymaker that the younger man easily sidestepped;
but while Saxon's other arm was only meat and bone, it was still
deadly. His attention fixed on his opponent's augmentations, Hermann
stepped into Saxon's range and he rushed him. He slammed the heel of
his palm upward, breaking the other man's nose, and rode the momentum of
the attack. Saxon's augmented legs powered him back across the
cabin, with Hermann shoved out before him.

The mercenary slammed into a glass-fronted refrigerator and crumpled with
a cry of pain. Saxon punched him hard in the chest, feeling the
satisfying crunch of bone breaking beneath the blow. But Hermann would
not submit, and he scrambled to extract himself from the debris,
cursing in his native language.

Saxon drew the Buzzkill and fired a single, close-range shot. The electro-
dart punctured Hermann's right eye, the discharge wreathing his head
in a brief flash of lighting. Howling, he fell to the deck, wisps of smoke
rising from burnt skin and hair.

"Stay down," Saxon warned, and left him there, heading forward.

- Deus Ex: Icarus Effect, Chapter 10 pgs. 276-277