There was nothing about the building from the sky that set it apart from any other building. Earlier this week, Apollo had flown quite close to it, close enough to notice the distinctive monstrosity nearby which had made him long for the days he'd been involved in city planning, to stop that kind of thing happening. But Martin's kidnapping HQ? Unremarkable.
Till it was on fire.
Apollo knew full well he was going to get in the shit, flying without submitting his trip first, but Clio's life was on the line and if losing his pilot's license was the worse thing that happened today then fuck off, pilot's license!
He could see the smoke, guiding him in, and from part way down the building a tongue of flame licked out a shattered window. He just had to hope the roof held out for long enough rather than collapsing beneath the helicopter, otherwise he and Clio were both fucked and his last words to Calliope would be far too painfully ironic.
Apollo jumped down onto the roof, wielding the axe he'd bought two days ago in anticipation of going up against a fire, maybe also in anticipation of terrorising any mortal who got in his way. It came in very useful against the locked door that led from the roof into the building.
"CLIO!" he roared, the volume of his voice ripping through the building as soon as he'd devastated his way inside.