Isobel looked from hat, to vent, then out to the swiftly approaching guards. She had three choices; First choice was to dive into the vent and probably be mistaken for the criminal as the cops arrived. Option two, she could stand there and be a credible eyewitness to nothing and miss her flight. Option three? Book it, and hope whoever it was wanted her dead badly enough to follow her.<br/><br/>"God, I am soooo gonna regret this!"<br/><br/>She just hoped her luggage made it to New York before she did and dove for the vent, her body narrowing enough to fit in the tiny passageway as she slithered along, hopong to catch up to the bastard quickly.