I don’t know how much time I have. Whatever it is, it’s not much. By the time I reach the twenty-fifth floor, the underside of a window-washing machine can be seen descending toward me and it’s moving fast. Using a couple of bolts lashed together and a locking carabiner, I stop and create an anchor in an expansion joint. Then I unfurl my rope and rappel six floors down the side of the building.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” a voice hollers.
I completely ignore him. Before anyone can stop me, I pendulum across the face to a parallel I-beam, leaving the window-washing machine and its cargo of open-mouthed firemen behind. They know any number of things could go wrong – one of my bolts could rip from the expansion crack; or my rope could slice in half from the rough edges of the steel I-beam. Fortunately, none of the scenarios materialize. But, as I straddle the second I-beam and begin retrieving my rope, I feel the first hint of rain. That’s funny, the weatherman said it would be a bluebird morning, albeit on the cold side with temperatures hovering in the upper thirties.
Where’s the rain coming from?
At first I think I’m hallucinating because of my fatigue. But as I peer into the glaring light, I see the silhouette of a firefighter leaning out of an air conditioning vent, wrestling with a gushing fire hose, aimed directly at me. What’s this guy thinking? Doesn’t he know…
Spiderman, if you ever climb another building in my city, I’ll kill you!
Blair’s words scream into my head like nuclear tipped missiles, leaving me unsure of my next move. I’m being drenched in water that smells like it’s from a sewage plant and I’m so cold I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.
“GO! GO! GO!”
My eyes look to the plaza below. Thousands of people have gathered and are chanting in unison. Their will is like a tsunami as it surges up the side of the John Hancock Center and into me. Immediately my determination regenerates, empowering me to sling the coil of rope over my shoulder, slap my climbing gear onto the I-beam, and press upward. For the next fifteen floors I battle water that’s increasing in weight and velocity. Periodically I catch a glimpse of the hose man and the look on his face says it all – he wants to send me to my grave.
Could Blair’s wrath really turn his men into killers?
As if in answer to my question, the firefighters in the window-washing machine across the building begin an onslaught of verbal assaults. Most of their words are lost in the chaos created by the pounding water and the ones that do get through only serve to further my resolve. One voice, however, is clear. “I hope you fall.” I’m momentarily stunned. Chicago’s firemen don’t even know me but yet they’re willing to participate in my murder.
I’m thinking these could be the last images to enter my mind when the water suddenly slows and dribbles to a stop. I cling to the I-beam, surveying the situation. Then something heavy, hammering against the glass above rivets my attention.
It’s an ambush!
I explode into action, intending on shooting pass the firefighter and his gushing hose. Suddenly, a pair of double-bladed axes burst through the windows. Large chunks of jagged glass bounce off my shoulders then spiral downward. I watch the people in the plaza sprint away as the glass shatters into billions of deadly pieces.
When I look back up, firemen wearing thick rubber gloves are removing what remains of the window. I attempt to pass but Blair’s men thrust long barbed poles at me, blocking my path and causing whatever harm they can. I duck as one grazes my face; then block another. Quickly they redirect their poles, attempting to rip my equipment off the I-beam. I’ve no choice but to retreat to a position from where I can pendulum to safety. All the while the crowd roars…
“LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO!”
Their voices reverberate off the buildings, sending echoes through Chicago’s canyons of glass. In combination with the thumping helicopter blades and wailing sirens it’s nearly impossible to hear myself think. Still, the chanting sends shivers through me and I feel the pride of a hero. Then another alarm goes off within me, turning my shivers to fear. I look up and Blair is standing in the open window. Dressed to kill in knee-high rubber boots, a fire-retardant jacket, and a hard-shell hat displaying his rank and number, he stares down at me with the confidence of a king cobra.
“I’ll give you a choice, Spiderman,” he screams venomously. “Either you step through this fucking window and give yourself up…”
“Or you’ll do what?” I shout back.
“I’ll knock your ass off this building!” His voice is laced in poison and hate. I look into his bloodshot eyes. His rage has transformed him into an obsessive egomaniac incapable of distinguishing between right and wrong.
“So what’s stopping you?” I try my best not to display fear.
“You know damn well what’s stopping me. Now get your ass in here.”
I flash him a smile. “If you want me, come and get me.”
“What are you doing?” he demands as I start uncoiling my rope.
“What does it look like? I’m heading to the other side of the building.”
“Like hell you are. If you even think about it I’ll smash out every window in this fucking building.”
“Then you better start smashing.”
As I feed the rope through my rappelling device, I hear him shouting orders to his men. I can’t hear everything, but I figure he’s delegating his battle plans.
Then silence.
Only the sounds of helicopters fill the morning. My hair crawls up the back of my neck. I know they’re coming, but I’m not waiting. I look over to give Blair one last look of defiance and there’s a man in a business suit standing next to him. I don’t know who he is but he’s clearly not happy with Chicago’s Fire Commissioner.
“You want me to arrest you for murder?” The man shouts at Blair. “Well, if you knock that kid off, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
I see the chilling effect it has on Blair. The blood drains from his face and he seems to shrink on the spot. Losing his authority is more than he can bear.
The man looks down at me. “Mr. Goodwin, my name is Richard Brzeczek. I’m the Police Superintendent.” This man is obviously from a different school of thought. His demeanor is non-threatening and completely professional. However, unlike Blair, who appears undaunted by the dizzying heights, Brzeczek carefully sticks his head out the window.
“Nice to meet you,” I yell back. “Too bad we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Unfortunately when you decided to climb this building…”
“I’m sorry,” I shout, attempting to make myself heard over the crowd who has renewed their chanting. “I can barely hear you.”
“LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO!”
Cautiously the Police Superintendent leans further out the window, holding a piece of paper in his hand.
“What I’m trying to say is you are in violation of this court injunction….” Or did he say court conjunction? I’m not sure. Either way I’m not an attorney.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the slightest clue what any of that means.”
“It’s a court order,” he attempts to explain, “that basically states you aren’t allowed to climb this building. And if you continue…”
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I interject before he can finish his sentence. “I have every intention of continuing my ascent.”
“But I don’t think you understand. If you continue to climb this building, you’ll be in violation of a court order.”
“And what’s the punishment for that, death by fire hose?”
“I had nothing to do with that,” Brzeczek affirms, firing off a cold glance at Blair.
“But Blair did and I don’t see you giving him a court order.”
The conversation is going absolutely nowhere, and Brzeczek knows it. I’m not about to surrender, nor is he in a position to grant permission to continue my ascent. It’s a Mexican standoff. I shrug my shoulders and continue my preparations. Then, just as I’m about to begin the rappel, I catch sight of a woman with short blond hair move to the window next to the Police Superintendent. I have no idea who she is, but her demeanor says she is someone who demands respect.
“Young man,” she begins. “My name is Jane Byrne. I’m the Mayor of this town.”
I don’t know what to say. It’s not every day you meet the Mayor of Chicago, especially half-way up a hundred-story building.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Byrne,” is what I come up with.
“Thank you,” she replies. I notice a twinkle in her eyes. “I want you to know, although I don’t necessarily agree with what you are doing, I definitely don’t agree with what they are doing to you.”
She glares at the Fire Commissioner.
“So, as far as I am concerned, if you want to continue climbing to the top you may do so. But I want to make one thing perfectly clear.”
She pauses to be sure she holds my attention.
“From this point on, you are on your own. Which means you must take full responsibility for your actions. Is that understood?”
I nod my head. “Absolutely.”
“All right then. Good luck.” She gives me a thumbs-up, and another twinkle.
Blair’s men immediately withdraw their barbed poles. As they do the people below erupt in unison…
“GO! GO! GO!”
