Part 8 (1/2)
Morris paused. ”My best guess is they're using the officer as cover. I suspect they were afraid to disable the cameras and arouse the suspicion of the OCC managers. But that pair of utility workers entered without signing in, and I observed the PA officer as he escorted them to the roof.”
”Then he's working for the bad guys,” Jack concluded.
”Finished,” Layla said, displaying the phony tattoo to Jack. ”Try not to sweat too much; I drew it with felt tip pens.”
Jack nodded.
”I hope this works,” the woman continued. ”We don't even know what the 13 tattoo means. There's no match for it in CTU's database.”
”It just has to fool them long enough for me to take them down,” Jack replied. Then he spoke into the cell. ”How far away is the tower from the door in front of me?”
”A good hundred yards, Jack. The roof slopes upward, and you'll have to climb onto a three-tiered metal platform to reach the base of the tower. There are steel support cables strung all over the roof, so be careful not to trip over one.”
Jack frowned. ”So charging the bad guys would not be a good idea. Don't worry, I don't plan to.”
Bauer spoke to Layla while he slipped a hands-free headset over his ears and tucked the phone into the Con Ed uniform.
”Go down two flights, to level 108, and listen in to my transmission. If something happens to me, alert the NYPD Bomb Squad and let them handle the bombers.”
”You shouldn't do this alone,” Layla insisted. ”We can have a SWAT team up here inside of five minutes.”
”I need to take one of them alive, for interrogation,” Jack replied. ”We're working in the dark. We need some solid intelligence.”
”Good luck,” Layla called as she descended the concrete steps.
”I'm about to move,” Jack said into the headset. ”Where's the officer now?”
”About two feet away from you. On the other side of the door. Why? Are you planning to charm your way past him?”
”No time for that,” Jack hissed.
Jack clutched the metal handle, felt relief when he realized the door opened inward, which offered him a better chance to surprise the PA cop.
”Jack!” Morris cried, voice sharp in his headset. ”The copper's leaning against the door right now.”
Bauer yanked it open. A burst of sunlight and the roar of wind filled the dim stairwell. With a startled cry, the man in the navy-blue uniform fell into Jack's arms. Bauer immediately placed him in a chokehold and dragged the struggling man into the stairwell. The door closed automatically.
The man was young and Hispanic and smaller than Jack, but very powerful. While he struggled, Jack applied just enough pressure to render him unconscious, then let the limp form slide to the floor. Jack checked the man's arms but found no tattoo. The ID in his pocket pegged him as Hector Giamonde, a real PA police officer with just eight months on the job.
Jack heard footsteps and whirled, fist ready.
Layla jumped back. She clutched a Glock in her small hands.
”I told you to stay downstairs,” Jack hissed.
”I heard a struggle, and...”
”Cuff him,” Jack interrupted. ”I'm going out.”
While Layla strapped flex cuffs around the man's wrists and ankles, Jack slipped through the door.
Outside, high winds buffeted him, flapping the legs of his baggy pants and tugging at his hair. Jack blinked against the constant blast and scanned the roof.
He spied the intruders on a steel ladder. They'd climbed a hundred and fifty feet up the transmission tower. They were both focused on their ascent, and neither noticed the absence of the Port Authority policeman who'd been guarding their backs.
Jack bolted across the roof, leaping over steel cables, until he reached the metal platform that ringed the tower base. Still undetected, he ascended two levels of steps, wending his way around a dozen or more STLs and ENG receiver dishes. Amid an electronic hum mixed with the howl of the winds, Jack reached the bottom of the ladder.
The tower was a building in its own right, a square structure eighteen hundred feet high and perhaps a hundred feet around. The ladder in front of him snaked up the side.
Eyes squinting against the bright suns.h.i.+ne, Jack gripped the steel rail and began to climb. After twenty rungs, he knew why the intruders weren't looking down. The vistas around him were incredibly vast, the height dizzying. Jack battled a constant wind that whistled in his ears and threatened to rip him off the ladder.
”Can you hear me, Morris? I need to know the location of the intruders.”
The voice in his headset was drowned out by the gale. Jack muttered a curse and kept climbing.
He couldn't find the intruders now. He did come across three bombs taped to the tower wall - solid bricks of C-4 wired with detonation cords instead of timers. Jack ripped the cords out as he went.
About two hundred feet above him, between rows of saucer-shaped dishes, Jack saw a steel mesh platform that circled the tower. The men had apparently exited the ladder there, and moved to the opposite side of the transmission tower.
Jack continued his ascent until the platform was less than twenty feet above him. Here the climbing s.p.a.ce narrowed because the ladder was sandwiched between two ma.s.sive receiver dishes. As Jack moved between them, strong hands grabbed his throat and threatened to tear him from the ladder.
”Te morati poginuti!” the attacker cried. the attacker cried.
Jack understood the language from his Delta Force missions in Eastern Europe. Rather than resisting, he threw up his arm so his attacker could see the tattoo.
”Prekid JA samjedan prijatelj,” Jack rasped in Serbian. Jack rasped in Serbian.
”JA moi pomo.”
The big man saw the tattoo, heard Jack's words. Suddenly the pressure on his throat eased. Jack did not resist when the man grabbed his forearm and dragged him onto the top of a ma.s.sive receiver dish, where he sprawled, gasping. The man loomed over him, stocky build, dark eyes, a once aquiline nose twisted by too many breaks.
”JA samjedan prijatelj,” Jack repeated, telling the man he was an ally. Jack repeated, telling the man he was an ally.
Jack heard a grunt of surprise. At the same instant, he realized the tattoo on his forearm had smeared. The other man was looking at his own hand - the ink was now staining his fingers.
Before the big man could make a move, Bauer lashed out with his elbow, crus.h.i.+ng his larynx. As the man's head jerked back, Jack grabbed him by his collar and flipped him from his perch.
The big man tumbled silently, arms and legs windmilling in the blasting winds. A hundred feet above the roof, the man struck a steel cable that severed his body in half. Jack looked away, spied another bomb, and ripped out the det cord. Then he grasped the ladder, swung himself onto the rungs, and continued his climb.
Grunting, he pulled himself onto the platform a moment later. There was no sign of the other utility worker, but Jack spied bundles of plastic explosives taped to the tower, and a detonation cord leading around the bend.
Jack drew the Glock and followed the wire. He turned a corner and came face to face with the bomber a moment later.
”Tko biti te?” the Serb cried. the Serb cried.