CHAPTER XX
ON THE CITY ROOF
Alan and I sat, that late evening of the battle's second day, upon our bed where we had just been sleeping. The news tapes and mirrors gave us the details of what had happened while we slept. Turber was winning. There could be no doubt of that.
The sleep had refreshed us; and suddenly, as I met Alan's eyes, I realized that his thoughts were the same as mine. There must be something we could do to try and rescue Nanette. We were no longer total strangers here.
We knew the city now; and by personal contact, or by reputation, we were known to most of the commanders of the city forces.
"That fellow Van Dyne," said Alan, "the Marshal of the West Manhattan area, likes us. I was thinking—"
I interrupted: "Get him to organize a small squad. It could be done without general orders. Make a secret raid into the Turber section—try to get to the aero—"
Make a desperate play; no matter how desperate! We were all desperate. The situation was almost as bad as it could be.
Alan shook his head. "I think the more men we took, the less chance of success. There's no chance, Ed, to fight our way into the Turber city. We'll have to try to get there by our wits—just you and I. I was thinking—"