Elektra's Silent Hoist

The dry squeal of an unoiled iron pulley wheel spinning in the alley draft broke the quiet. I don't tolerate sloppy noise. Springing upward off the brick ledge, the tails of my red bandana snapping back in the rush of air, I targeted the turning wheel. Mid-arc, I twisted into a reverse grip and drove the tapered prong of my right sai between the spokes. The steel caught with a clean, muffled bite, locking the mechanism instantly. I dropped lightly onto the narrow mounting bracket, steadying the hanging chain with the sole of my boot. Not another whisper left the iron.