John watches, eyes carefully following the pistol until it disappears behind Dick's back. There's a strange shudder that crawls up on his spine, like something far too familiar, but he's forced to ignore it as his turn comes up.

"On your belt?" he asks, eyebrow raised. "That's odd." How many people have that kind of gear on them? John's got a good guess, although he doesn't bother sharing as another number flashes on the screen. He's gotten himself a two, also, which puts him in a less fortunate situation. As soon as both feet are planted, the ground disappears below him and John drops into a deep pool of water the size of the square. A barrier slides over and for the time between this round and the next, he seems to be stuck underwater. And, wouldn't you know if, but in the commotion, that rebreather sits just off to the side of John's square, of no use to him, either. Brilliant.

John's down there, initially thrashing before his distant training kicks in and he starts looking for weaknesses in this trap, breath controlled and held and carefully released as necessary. Gotta get out, can't panic...