Such thoughts were dangerous. How could anyone in her right mind want to trade the young, vital Dick Neff for a busted-up old man like Wilson? Well, she was thinking about it more and more lately.
The doorbell rang, and in a few moments they were eating pizza. “You still sulky, Doc?” Becky asked Ferguson. He was brooding more than he should; she was trying to draw him out.
“I’m not sulky. Just contemplative.”
“Like a soldier before a big battle,” Wilson said. “Like me this afternoon.”
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been in a battle. But let’s just say that sitting up there on that roof half the night isn’t my idea of my proper role.”
“Your idea is to go down to the alley and get yourself killed.”
“We don’t know their capacities, but I think I have the means to communicate with them. On the roof, you’ll be in danger as soon as they become aware you’re there. You’ll be hidden, they’ll see it as a threat.”
“And climb all thirty stories after us, I suppose.”
Ferguson stared at her. “Obviously.”
“Carl, we’ll have the Ingram up there. Have you ever seen what an Ingram M-11 can do?”
“No, and I don’t want to. I’m sure it’s very lethal. Naturally all you can think of is kill or be killed. And what about all the other buildings? A sea of windows. Will you really start spraying high velocity bullets around? I doubt it.” He settled glumly into his chair. He was right, too. Not one of them would feel free to use that gun on a rooftop in the middle of Manhattan. Hell, you wouldn’t want to use any gun in such circumstances, surrounded by so many innocent lives. But the gun was the only real protection they had. Its value lay in the fact that it would provide accurate coverage over a wide area and do it fast. A shotgun could do that too, but they were afraid that buckshot would lack stopping power. One slug from an Ingram would knock a heavy man ten feet. They wanted that kind of punch if they were going to come up against the werewolves.
“How likely are they to spot us?” Wilson asked suddenly. He had been gobbling pizza; it had not seemed as if he was following the conversation at all. Ferguson considered. “The more senses they can bring to bear, the more likely. If scent was all they had, we’d have a chance. Unfortunately they have hearing and sight too.”
“We can be quiet.”
“How? Stop breathing? That’s more than enough sound to give you away.”
“Then we’ve gotta hope we see them first, don’t we? You spot ’em , you take a few pictures, you get the hell inside.”
Ferguson nodded. “Assuming we see them first— or at all.”
“Look, we’ve been through that. They aren’t going to come up through the building and they aren’t going to climb the balconies that overlook Eighty-sixth Street. That leaves these balconies, the ones that overlook the alley, as their only route of attack. So if each person just keeps that camera focused on that alley, we’re gonna see them if they come. That’s damn well where they’ll be.”
The disconsolate look on Ferguson’s face didn’t change. He wasn’t buying Wilson’s theory, at least not enough to improve his disposition. “Have you imagined what it’ll be like up there fooling around with that damn camera while they are swarming up the balconies? I have, and believe me it isn’t a very comforting thought.”
“You’d have a good thirty seconds before they reached the roof,” Becky said.
Ferguson leaned forward in the chair, stared at them with contemptuous eyes. “Assuming you even see them coming.”
“That’s the whole purpose of the camera, for Chrissakes! It makes it like daylight. We damn well will see them.”
“Human senses against Wolfen senses,” he replied bitterly. “Technology or no technology, there is absolutely no comparison. Let me tell you something. Whichever one of us is unlucky enough to be up there when they come is going to be in very great danger. Let me repeat,
“Jesus Christ, we don’t need that!” Dick blurted. “I mean, what a fucking—”
“Dick, he doesn’t understand. He’s not a cop.” You don’t look at things that way when you’re on the force. Maybe it’s true, but brooding on it isn’t the kind of thing that increases a man’s effectiveness.
“He’s doing a cop’s job. Oh, no, wait a minute. No cop ever had an assignment like this before. But at least we’re prepared for it—this guy obviously isn’t”
“I don’t have to be here at all, may I remind you. In fact, I ought to be in that alley.”
Dick started to speak. Becky knew him well enough to know that he was about to get angry, to lash out—and they needed everybody, even Ferguson.
“Dick’s right,” she said quickly, “let’s not talk about it. I’m due to go up in ten minutes anyway, so enough said.”
“OK,” Dick said after a long moment. Ferguson glanced nervously at his watch and was silent.
She went into the bedroom and put a cardigan on over her heavy sweater, then wound a thick cashmere scarf around her neck and put on her pea jacket. She drew fur-lined gloves on her hands and dropped an electric pocket warmer into the jacket. She already had on three pair of socks and snow boots. She pulled a knit hat down over her ears and added a fur cap.
“Jesus,” Wilson said, “you look like a mountain climber in that outfit.”
“I’ve got two and a half hours in that wind.”
“I know, I’m not arguing. Let’s test radios.”
The concern in his eyes touched her deeply. He turned on one handset, then the other, and when they were both running they squealed. “Good enough,” he said. “I’ll be over here near the terrace. We oughta get a good
