Heroic Measures (continued)

When Red reached the last available rung, he paused. It seemed to Walter that he remained there for an awfully long time.

He’s probably reliving that ladder falling out from beneath him.

Walter found that he could not blame him for hesitating. Barely more than an hour had probably passed since it had happened. He wondered if he would have found the same courage so quickly.

I hope I never have to find out . . .

Red looked upward, staring at something near the rooftop. Walter saw nothing up there and wondered if perhaps Red was taking a moment to pray. He had no idea how deeply religious his friend might be. It was not a subject that had ever come up between them during all of their years of friendship. Walter knew his own beliefs, but could not recall having ever explicitly shared them with Red.

Finally, Red’s head turned downward and looked toward them. He was too far away for Walter to see his expression, so it was his imagination that placed a look of firm determination there—that, and a bright spark in his eyes for the adventure ahead. Red reached down, grabbed the cable, and slowly began to lower himself toward the ground.

The moment his full weight was suspended by the cable, the ladder supporting it from above him sounded forth with a deep metallic groan. Red stopped, his body held rigid. Below him, Walter had a terrifying prescient flash of the entire structure tearing loose from the building, bringing Red down with it. The wide and wild look in Vivian’s eyes told him that she had seen the same within her own mind.

None of that, fortunately, happened. Having made its protest known, the voices of the metal members of the ladder faded into silence. Although he could not hear it, Walter was certain that Red’s sigh of relief was no less audible than the ones that came from him and Vivian.

Red resumed his descent, sliding quickly down the cable. Even through his gloves, Walter suspected that Red would feel the heat from the friction.

At least he has gloves . . .

Walter tried not to imagine the condition of Red’s palms had there not been a layer of protection separating them from the insulated cable.

Red landed on his feet in a loud crunch of loose stones on the asphalt of the alleyway. Small wisps of dust floated around the soles of his boots as they hit the ground. His hands popped open, instantly releasing their hold on the cable. He wiped them together lightly and then turned to face Walter.

“Good idea, Walt,” he said. “But I don’t recommend it as a sport.”

Walter stared at Red and then shook his head, chuckling. Vivian rolled her eyes, breathing an audible sigh of disapproval. She looked away, clearly done with Red’s antic humor.

Red grinned and then patted Walter on the shoulder.

“Let’s get that antenna to Raynes and the boys at the lab,” he said. “I’d like to know what I just risked my life for—twice.”

Walter laughed and then looked quickly to Red, relieved to find that his friend was still grinning.

“I’ll buy the first round while we wait,” Walter offered.

“Two rounds,” Red countered. “One for each life.”

“You’re on,” Walter chuckled. “Even the good stuff.”

“Even better,” Red agreed, and the two men followed Vivian out of the alleyway.