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He found the air pocket by accident, aiming for a subway station. He can get the station by standing a little left, using a slightly different angle.
He's back in his old leather costume, unmodified motorcycle helmet. Makes him feel old; he last belonged in it years ago. Cuts his effectiveness in half without the bot doing pathing for him, turning safeties on and off to manage where he might land, calculating angles.
There's a ring on his toe. It's not tracking his location, Dragon said, it'll just alert her if he takes it off or gets within three long hops of Baltimore without telling her in advance that he expects to be in D.C. or something. It's not listening in, just making sure he hasn't amputated the toe or tried to wreck the mechanism.
The air pocket is not within three long hops of Baltimore.
He thinks the ring is actually not listening, actually not tracking. He thinks.
He stands slightly to the right. He goes down.
It's a big, sealed cave, pitch dark. He has a flashlight.
He doesn't need it; the backup lights up like a Christmas tree as soon as he lands.
