through the greatest slaughter in history, only in the midst of
Armageddon, could the new men seize what was rightfully theirs.
The thirtieth level was deserted, as were the stairs and the elevator
shafts.
He went up one floor.
Connie's feet touched the ledge. Thanks to the scouring wind, the stone
was pretty much free of snow; therefore, there had been no chance for
the snow to be pressed into ice. She wasn't in any danger of sliding
off her perch.
She put her back to the face of the building, staying as far from the
brink as she could.
Surprisingly, with stone under her feet, she was more impressed by the
gulf in front of her than when she was dangling in empty space.
Swinging at the end of the rope, she had not been able to see the void
in the proper perspective. Now, with the benefit of secure footing, she
found the thirty-eight-story drop doubly terrifying; it seemed a
bottomless pit.
She untied the knot at her harness, freed herself of the main line. She
jerked on the rope twice, hard. Immediately Graham reeled it up.
in a minute he would be on his way to her. Would he panic when he got
out here?
I trust him, she told herself. I really do. I have to.
Nonetheless, she was afraid he would get only part of the way out of the
window before he turned and fled, leaving her stranded.
Graham took off his gloves, leaned out of the window, and felt the stone
below the sash. It was planed granite a rock meant to withstand the
ages. However, before the icy wind could numb his fingertips, he
discovered a tiny horizontal fissure that suited his purpose.
Keeping one hand on the crack in order not to lose it, he took the
hammer and a piton from the tool straps at his waist. Balanced on the
sill, leaning out as far as he dared, he put the sharp tip of the steel
peg into the crack and pounded it home.
The light he had to work by was barely adequate. It came from the
aircraft warning lights that ringed the decorative pinnacle of the
building just thirty feet, above him; it alternated between red and
white.
From his upside-down position, the work went more; slowly than he would
have liked. When he finished at'i last, he looked over his shoulder to
see if Bollinger was behind him. He was still alone.
The piton felt as if it were well placed.
He got a good grip on it, tried to wiggle it. It was firm.
He snapped a carabiner through the eye of the piton.
He snapped another carabiner to the center post of the window, above the
one that secured Connie's safety line.
Next, he pulled the knots out of the belaying rope. He took it from
around his waist and dropped it on the floor by the window.
He closed one of the tall, rectangular panes as best he could; the
carabiners fixed to the center post would not permit it to close all the
way. He would attempt to shut the other half of the window from the
outside.
