*shuts the basement door behind him and sets off toward the front entrance (and once again, curses her failure to gather any useful intelligence, such as the location of the nearest emergency exit)*
*doesn't bother trying to blend in any longer, but instead breaks into a near-run, one hand clamped firmly over the gaping wound in his abdomen*
*has his private PP&F chopper ready and waiting to go, only has to reach it before the blood loss catches up to him* *would curse him, as well, but has already done far worse and that is satisfying enough*