The moment Winny Swink coaxed the Blackhawk over the mirror cage and the downwash began rattling the heavy framework, Karla’s brain cleared. Her worry vanished, replaced by a cool composure. Once the op started, everything else flushed away; her trained brain dropped into its familiar analytic role.
She felt the acceleration as the Blackhawk lifted, the ground dropping away.
“You all right?” she asked Savage over the communications gear.
He replied through his battle com. “Chief, I’m hanging by a wire, a thousand feet in the air, trapped in a miniature house of mirrors, to go cut through a roof where people are going to shoot at me. What’s not to love?”
“I double-checked your safety harness,” she reminded. “You couldn’t fall out if you tried.”
He grunted, his body wedged in tight against hers. “The good news is that with the saw and the rest of the gear blocking the way, I can’t look down.”
She felt the sway as the helicopter changed vector, a slight g and the buffeting of the downwash the only proof they were moving.
“What are you going to do if Bill Minor meets you on the rooftop?” Savage asked.
“Offer to finish up what we started last night?” She grinned to herself. “After the tugging, yanking, and twisting his weenie got, I’m betting he’d settle for just a handshake.”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side, Chief.”
“How about you just make sure my six is covered down there, and I won’t be tempted.”
“Roger that.”
The air chilled with altitude, the chatter of the rotors loud, the mirrored cage buffeting from the downwash.
“Five minutes,” the Skipper’s voice came through her headset.
Yeah. Just make sure Winny sets us down like fragile china, or we’re going to have glass everywhere and this whole thing is going to be blown.
“When we cut through the roof,” Savage noted, “it’s going to be noisy.”
“This time of night shouldn’t be anyone in those top-floor offices,” she replied. “We’ll do it just like we practiced this afternoon. That roof is a hell of a lot softer to cut through.”
“Roger that.”
It was a complicated maneuver. She had to pull herself up as if to chin herself. Savage would squat beneath, unhook the saw, start it, and cut four slices. Hopefully, he’d leave enough material attached on the last cut to keep the section of roof from dropping like a brick.
“One minute,” Ryan’s voice said calmly in Karla’s headphones. “We’re on approach. Slowing.”
“Show time.”
The mirror cage swung slightly, and Karla reached up, grabbing the metalwork above. “Keep your head down, Sam. If Winny drops us, you don’t want shattered glass in your eyes.”
She felt him shift and nod.
“Come on, Winny. Feather in the wind. You can do this.”
She felt the cage shudder, scrape, and vibrate in the downwash. “We’re down!” She muscled herself up, found the cable release pin, and pulled it. “Clear! Go!”
The mirror cage shook as Winny eased the cyclical forward and rose into the night. As the helo’s sound faded, silence replaced it.
“No shouts or pounding feet,” Savage whispered.
“I’m lifting. You get that saw loose and get to cutting.”
She took a deep breath to charge her lungs and chinned herself on the metal bar. Savage shifted beneath, the saw clanging. Karla felt him give the starter cord a hard yank, then another. On the third, the saw’s two-stroke engine whined to life, filling the confines with smoky exhaust.
“Tell me this is going to be quick,” she growled as Savage’s muscular body shifted in the narrow space beneath her.