Gael walked toward the massive window with the tranquility of someone taking a Sunday afternoon stroll in the park. Behind him, Vargas, still pinned to the wall and holding his useless steel baton, let out a nervous, unhinged laugh.
"Where do you think you're going?" the security director spat, regaining a fraction of his arrogance. "That's two-centimeter-thick tempered glass. It can withstand hurricane winds and low-caliber bullets. You're trapped."
Gael didn't stop. He didn't even take his hands out of his coat pockets. His analytical mind had already scanned the situation. The probability of a human body breaking that window through sheer brute force was zero. But he was no longer playing by those rules.
He pulled a heavy five-hundred-dollar casino chip from his pocket. He held it between his thumb and index finger, calculating the exact center of the glass. Five years ago, during the cooling process at the factory, an air bubble had gotten trapped in that panel. An undetectable flaw that created a point of atomic tension on the verge of collapsing.
Gael flicked the chip with a simple flick of his wrist. The small resin disc struck the glass at the exact coordinates of that bubble.
The sound wasn't an explosion; it was a metallic sigh. A web of white cracks rapidly spread across the window. A millisecond later, the reinforced glass imploded and fell to the street, cascading down in thousands of tiny shards.
The night wind howled, rushing into the interrogation room like a hurricane. Vargas screamed, covering his face.
Gael took the final step and, without looking back, let himself fall into the void.
Seven stories. Twenty-two meters of free fall. Gravity accelerating at 9.8 meters per second squared. Certain death awaited him on the asphalt.
Gael closed his eyes for a second, feeling the freezing air hit his face. The bill for this is going to be astronomical, he thought.
Across the avenue, the construction of a corporate skyscraper dominated the night. At the top, a massive yellow tower crane was working overtime hauling up materials. Right as Gael's feet left the casino ledge, the universe collected its toll to save him.
The crane's main hydraulic brake suffered a catastrophic failure. The high-tension steel cable snapped loose, emitting a deafening screech that echoed down the street. The crane's mechanical arm suddenly swung. Tension was lost, and the enormous wooden platform was launched toward Gael.
Gael opened his eyes just as the platform caught him at the exact point of the parabola, matching his falling speed. He landed on the wood with his knees slightly bent. He absorbed the impact as if he were just stepping down a tall stair.
The crane operator, in a state of absolute panic, slammed on the secondary emergency brakes. The pulley jammed, and the platform came to a jarring halt just fifteen feet above the ground.
But Gael hadn't finished his descent.
He used the momentum from the crane's sudden stop to take a step forward and let himself drop again. Just below, an open-top double-decker tourist bus was passing by. It was running a red light due to an electrical failure at the intersection.
Gael landed softly on a padded seat at the back. That seat was empty. The bus driver, spooked by the shadow of the crane, swerved hard to the right, bringing the vehicle closer to the curb.
Gael stood up and stepped onto the railing of the moving bus. Then, he hopped onto the roof of a delivery van parked in front of a coffee shop. The canvas roof cushioned his weight like a trampoline. With one final short jump, Gael's feet touched the concrete sidewalk.
He hadn't even wrinkled his shirt collar.
Behind him, in the street, hysteria reigned. The crane was still swinging dangerously, smashing part of the casino's neon sign. The traffic was a symphony of honking horns and screeching brakes.
Gael shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt the wads of bills and the lottery ticket to make sure everything was in place. Perfect.
Meanwhile, on the seventh floor, the chaos was collecting its second invoice. The hurricane-force wind rushed through the broken window. It blew Vargas's digital tablet right into the overhead fluorescent light. The glass shattered. Sparks showered down onto the acoustic curtains. They turned out to be far more flammable than the manufacturer had promised.
Vargas ran to the door to escape, but the short circuit had fused the magnetic lock. They were trapped with a growing fire and a guard with a broken foot.
On foot, and paying no mind to the sirens wailing in the distance, Gael calmly crossed the avenue. The city's cold no longer bothered him. In fact, for the first time in his entire life, he felt like the city belonged to him. It was his game board, and he held all the winning pieces.
He raised his hand and, without looking, snapped his fingers. An empty taxi was cruising in the fast lane when it suffered a minor blowout in a rear tire. This caused the driver to swerve and brake hard. The rear door popped open right in front of Gael.
Gael climbed into the vehicle, settling into the leather seat.
"To a five-star hotel, the best one you know," he said, dropping a hundred-dollar bill onto the passenger seat. "And drive slowly. I'm in no rush to get anywhere today."