With the blaze now rising to the upper stories of the building, Edward leapt into action. First, he kicked off his shoes – the plastic soles would be sure to melt in the heat of the fire. Next, he tore a strip from his pinstriped suit and wrapped it round his face to prevent smoke inhalation. This meant removing his glasses; he cursed that he hadn’t worn his contact lenses today.
‘You’re not... going in, are you?’ Hobbington asked, aghast. Edward nodded grimly.
‘There might be people in there,’ he said through the cloth covering his mouth. He dug into his pocket. ‘Could you hold my keys?’ he asked. Hobbington took the bunch of keys. ‘Oh, and my mobile?’
Just as Edward was about to dash into the heart of the blaze, he heard a noise in the sky above. Spinning around, he looked for the source of the muffled thudding. There, emerging from behind London’s famous Eiffel Tower, was a rescue helicopter.
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