Still in the darkened stairwell, Tim stood up and tried the door to the forty-forth floor. It was just as he expected -- locked tight. When he heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching chopper, he grabbed the knob, put his shoulder to the door and shoved hard. The door remained true to its lock, but its hinges were broken and it soon fell into a hallway identical to the one on the floor below.

He walked across the door, hurried down the debris filled hall, turned left, and made his way past the elevators. Instead of a conference room, this floor held two small offices, each void of furnishings. Tim rushed into the nearest one, and then stopped. The sound of the chopper was deafening, yet he couldn't see it. He eased forward, taking one cautious step at a time until he spotted the tips of the blades whirling below.

To no avail, he shouted into the noise, "Up here!"

For several minutes, the chopper kept its position opposite the forty-third floor where Jenna stood alone watching. Finally, it lifted until it hovered opposite Tim. It stayed for a time with its cameras clicking off a series of pictures, then it turned sideways displaying the ID panel with tiny white lights. In bold black letters it read, "Go back down."

Reluctantly, Tim nodded. Inside the clear glass aft bubble, he spotted a man pointing down -- so he nodded again. Just then, he noticed the huge steel hook with a cable hanging from it. He kept his eyes on the cable and waited while the chopper slowly lifted. Then his expression turned to one of shear joy. The cable split into three and inch by inch, a brown Balloon basket with a wide rubber rim appeared above the window's bottom ledge.