The wind on the roof was brutal.
We climbed out of the service hatch, gasping for fresh air. The night sky was clear, filled with stars that looked indifferent to the chaos below us.
On the helipad, a sleek black helicopter was revving up. The blades sliced through the air with a deafening whop-whop-whop.
"There," Caleb shouted over the noise, pointing to the chopper.
"That’s Vanessa’s exit strategy. We take it."
He stumbled slightly. His ribs were bad. I grabbed his arm to steady him.
"Can you fly a helicopter?" I asked.
"I can crash one with style," Caleb gritted his teeth. "That will have to do."
We ran toward the helipad.
The pilot was already in the cockpit, wearing a helmet and visor. He saw us coming.
Suddenly, the door to the roof stairs burst open behind us.
V
