Svorak didn’t know how they’d gotten themselves into this mess.  How could they be this stupid?  “Fuck, get out of there, Tiger!  Hurry up!”  It was followed by the ominous sounds of the dark man’s pursuers shouting.

The voice in his ear wasn’t helping.  “Yeah,” he said, racing up the stairs.

“I’m upstairs.  Can you get to me?  We’ll face ‘em together... or something.”  It was never a good thing when Christoph started to run out of ideas.  “The roof.”

“Coming,” the dark man grunted, and fell silent until he slammed open the roof door.  The com crackled as Christoph’s pale visage came into view dead ahead.

The blond hurried over with a crowbar.  “Hey kiddos.”  A familiar drawl, so knee-weakeningly welcome in his ear.

Svorak grabbed the crowbar and stuffed it through the door handle, and a half-broken padlock base.  “Hey Lady,” Christoph said quickly from behind him.

“East side of the roof.  Jump.  The river is plenty deep enough.”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind!” Svorak burst out, feeling the blood drain from his face.

Even so, Christoph was already heading in the ordered direction.  Arana chuckled.  “Should I answer that now or after you guys get back?  It’s only the third floor.”

“Only she says,” the ex-army merc growled, jogging after his lover.

“See you, kiddo,” she said.

“Fuck.”  Svorak ripped out his earpiece and tossed it over the roof.

Christoph grabbed his shoulder briefly, giving a reassuring squeeze.  And then they jumped.