The policemen pulled away without a sound.
Stern looked up at the building. There was still a light on the eighteenth floor.
But—how could he get up there? The front door was locked. If he broke in, he'd have to deal with another group of cops—and that was too risky.
What could he do? To get to the eighteenth floor, he'd have to get into the building, open the elevator, go....
Stern shook his head. It wasn't worth it. He flexed his muscles and looked up the side of the building. It wasn't too high: it could be done. Stern squeezed his fingers together and began the climb up the sheer side of the great building.
It was nearly half an hour later that John Stern pulled himself up outside the eighteenth floor of the suite occupied by Matt Skardoth.
Hanging precariously by his fingertips, he looked inside the brightly illuminated window. Inside, he saw Matt Skardoth watching Elizabeth Kirk, who was tightly bound to a chair in the corner of the room.
"It's too bad your hero's been killed," Skardoth said. "Because now there's no one to rescue you."
"What are you going to do to me, Skardoth?" he heard the girl ask.
"Unfortunately, you've found out too much about my plans, you and that John Stern. If word got back to the Federation—" Skardoth shook his head. "No. I'll have to silence you the way I did him."