you are just so bad writers.
*exterior, afternoon, a lone men sitting on a rooftop. the noisy city underneath is barely visible, but the noise is as clear as if you were standing among the traffic. the man raises his sight. from the orange sky, filled with strips of golden clouds he detects it; an helicopter, coming in, ready to land with all its lights on and in the right angle. the man walks off the edge and closes his jacket so the cold air doesn't hit him. the chopper lands besides, and in the lapse of some seconds, the place is fully covered by agents dressed in tactical clothes. a men in a suit gets off lastly and walks towards the man with the jacket:
"Guess you couldn't keep it locked forever, huh?"
-"Not that we had a choice. come on, lets go":
both men and the team get on the chopper and fly away in the now night sky*
