Marino nodded, grimly tapping his forehead. "A barrage, the works. This Alien's got a powerful psi. And I mean powerful. He gave it to one of our Psi-High men yesterday. It was savage. Nearly ripped him apart."
Faircloth shivered. "But you can keep track of him."
"Yes." Marino lit a cigarette with nervous fingers. "Roberts put Psi-Highs out to spot him, but he doesn't want any Psi-Highs in on the kill." His voice was flat with disappointment. "Political pressure, I guess. People couldn't bear to give a Psi-High credit for anything—" He glanced at Faircloth and reddened. "Sorry. No offense. It just slipped out." He bit his lip. "Anyway, that's what you're here for. Half a dozen other psi-negatives will help you. I hope God'll be helping you too."
Faircloth grinned tightly. "Got you nervous?"
"It's got me plenty nervous."
Faircloth nodded again, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "All right. I want your best men, every one of them, to go in with me. I don't care whether they're Psi-High or not. Neither does Roberts; he's with you folks all the way. But we've got to get this creature and get him cold. He's slick. Is the building sewed up?"
"Tight as a vacutainer."
"Good. Keep it under cover, and try to keep the Psi-Highs from broadcasting any more than necessary."
Marino gave him a queer look. "They'll do their best, of course."
"Right." Faircloth ran a hand through his brown hair and loosened his tie a trifle. "As soon as the building is cleared from rush hour, I want the power shut off all over the building. Elevators, lights, everything. We'll be on the 41st floor, and a squad will be on the 43rd. We'll close in together."