Goddamn it.
An icy wind blew behind Morgan as he ran across the unfinished floor. He reached the ledge and looked down. Jenny was hanging from the tower crane by its double steel cable, three floors down.
“Morgan, what are you going to do?”
“Morgan, this is Bloch. I’m sorry, but it’s time to think about detonating that vest. You can’t save her either way, but this way at least you can save—”
“Not going to happen,” he said. “Now shut up and let me do my job.”
He looked at the ground and did some quick mental math.
“Jenny!” he yelled into the wind.
“Dan?” came the response, sounding so far away.
“Jenny, I’m coming!”
He walked five steps backward, and took a deep breath. He took off his jacket and rolled it up as tight as he could. Goddamn it, he thought, I hate heights.
He ran at full tilt, clutching his jacket, and catapulted off the ledge. It was as if the world went silent for a split second. The rush of wind was nothing, and Morgan felt as tall as the skyscrapers around him. Then it came back, the rush of air in his ears, wind propelling him forward. He hit the twin cables hard, and swung the jacket around them. Holding tight to the thick fabric, he wrapped his thighs around one of the cables and rappelled down. The friction burned his skin even through the fabric. A few seconds later, his feet touched down on the hook. Jenny was bound and hanging under him.
“Jenny.”
“Dan? Is that really you?”
“I’m here, honey. It’s going to be okay.”
Now came the hard part. He looked down, the ground a vertiginous distance below. He could see more than a dozen policemen now, keeping the growing crowd back. Damn it, he thought. He had to get rid of the explosives somehow, and they weren’t going to make it any easier.
He braced for this next step. He wrapped his jacket around one of the steel cables, then around his left wrist, so that he had a firm grasp. One more deep breath, then he swung out, letting himself fall one body length. His left knee screamed in pain from the impact of his full weight. He bit his lip. This was no time for pain.
He looked at Jenny, almost face to face with her. Her eyes were covered with a mask, which he pulled off. He had a split second to register the mixture of surprise, terror and relief on her face before he kissed her for longer than he should have allowed.
“God, Dan,” she said, “I knew you’d come.”
“I’m here, honey,” he said, in a comforting tone. “It’s going to be okay.” Either that, or we die together.
The bomb could not have more than thirty seconds left on its timer. He examined Jenny closely now. She was strapped to a harness that held her to the hook above, but her hands were tied above her head as well. On top of that, she was wearing a vest with the explosives, just as Novokoff had described: the vials with a white powder, sticks of C4, and pouches of what he surmised was the incendiary. He looked at the detonator. Too complex. No time to defuse it, not with one hand, hanging one hundred feet off the ground.
He drew his knife and began to saw through the shoulders of her vest.
“Dan,” said Jenny. “If we die today, I just want you to know that I love you!”
“We’re not going to die today!” he yelled. He sawed through one shoulder, but it was slow, too slow. He began work on the other.
Once he had cut the shoulder halfway through, Morgan put the knife in his mouth, biting down tight, and took the detonator out of his pocket. He put it in Jenny’s hand, which was tied above her head, and opened the safety cover. He took the knife out of his mouth and said, “I’m want you to press that button when I say now. Got it?”
“Got it!”
He had to get this timing just right, or everyone on the ground would die, and possibly a lot more as well.
“Twenty seconds to go, Morgan!” cried Shepard.
“Shepard, I’m going to need you to disable the jammer when I say so.”
Morgan pulled at the straps around her waist, just enough so that they would fit around her hips, and, with his one free hand, pulled down the vest.
“Shep, do it!” He gave the vest one last tug. It slid down Jenny’s legs, and slipped free of her feet, falling into empty space. He gave it two seconds of free fall, then said, “Now, Jenny!”
There was an uprush of scalding hot air that burned Morgan’s eyes. Squinting, he saw the orange glow of the flames of the incendiary device all around him.
Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. “Is it over?” Jenny asked. In response, he held her close, putting his free arm around her waist, and kissed her passionately. As he did, he heard the tramping of the policemen’s boots, coming up the stairs to get them down and arrest him.