The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,76
to more immediate concerns. ‘Ignore Vanwall. He’s just an imprint, and he’s done his job. You don’t need him any more.’
Another step. The wind caught the bags he was carrying, their straps digging into his shoulders as they shifted. The neon cityscape swayed beneath him. Despite the wind in his face, he felt as if there was no air.
This isn’t me! I’m not afraid. Ignore his fear. It’s his, not mine. I can do this.
Adam drew in several breaths, filling his lungs. He took in the view again, picking out points of interest: a flashing sign on another casino, cars weaving ant-like through an intersection. They remained steady.
I’m not afraid.
Tony spoke again. ‘You’ve got to get to Bianca, and soon. Zykov’s getting impatient. She needs your help.’
I’m in control.
‘I’m going,’ he said firmly, moving fully out on to the roof. He stepped over skeins of electrical cables and headed for the Russian’s penthouse. The sign jutted out from the roof’s edge on a gantry. There was just enough room for him to put one foot in front of the other behind it; once he cleared the last letter, he would have a little more space – but nothing to hold on to if he slipped. The tiled roof curved steeply upwards, offering no handholds.
He nudged the heavy laptop bag behind his back for better balance. The medical case bumped against it. He kept going, picking his way past more letters. I, A, L, and he was in the open.
Vanwall’s terror resurfaced as he looked straight down over the edge for the first time. Eight hundred feet, neon hyperspace streaks pointing the way to earth. Not my fear. Another deep breath. He brought up his arms to balance himself. One foot in front of the other. He looked ahead. The corner of the roof projected outwards in an oversized parody of a traditional pagoda. He could see part of the penthouse’s balcony beneath it.
One foot, then the other. The distance slowly closed. He kept his eyes fixed on his destination. Keep moving. A stronger gust caught him, making him wobble, arms see-sawing before he regained his balance. The laptop bag swung behind his back, twenty pounds of bulky electronics acting like a pendulum. Even with the gambler’s fear suppressed, the seconds before he stabilised were terrifying.
‘Adam, I can see you on the UAV’s cameras,’ said Holly Jo, concerned. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘Just some wind.’
‘That’s always a problem when you eat Chinese,’ Kyle cut in.
‘Kyle, shut up,’ Tony barked, but the moment of levity was what Adam had needed to get over his fright.
He set off again. ‘What’s Bianca do—’
His leading foot stepped on something slick and jerked forward. He staggered, arms flailing.
He was going over . . .
He twisted and deliberately fell against the steep roof. The impact was hard, tiles grinding under his weight. The laptop bag thumped heavily against the rooftop.
His foot slithered over the edge—
He clawed at the tiles. Fingernails got a grip. Gasping, he held himself in place. His wayward foot found solidity again.
‘Adam!’ Holly Jo cried in his ear. ‘Are you okay? Adam!’
‘I’m okay,’ he croaked. He carefully levered himself back upright and probed the edge with his foot. ‘Shit.’
‘What happened?’
‘Like I said, shit. Literally. I just slipped on a big patch of bird poop.’
Her brief laugh was somewhere between relief and disgust. ‘Jesus, Adam.’
‘Kyle, get the UAV in closer and warn him if there’s any more,’ said Tony, concern clear even behind his professional tone. ‘Adam, are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Just a scare. The PERSONA gear took a knock, though.’
‘How bad?’
‘No way to tell until we try to use it. Okay, I’m moving again.’
Kyle gave him warning of a couple more potential hazards. Adam stepped over them, heading out on to the overhang above Zykov’s penthouse. ‘What’s the situation inside?’
‘Bianca’s still in the bathroom,’ Holly Jo told him. ‘Zykov doesn’t look happy – he’s pacing about in the lounge. I think he’s getting fed up of waiting.’
‘What about his bodyguards?’
‘I don’t see them. They must be in the back rooms.’
Adam pictured the penthouse’s layout, recalling the floor plan Levon had procured. ‘Which bathroom is Bianca in?’
‘The one off Zykov’s bedroom.’
‘Damn.’ To reach the balcony, he would have to monkey-climb down the support beam – making him fully visible to anyone in the main bedroom, and at risk of being seen from the lounge as well. ‘Okay, tell me when he moves. I’m going to the corner of the roof.’