Solo, the reckless motherfucker to take their golden boy up in the air, fly him around at thirty thousand feet, and remind him why he loved to risk his life every day when he woke up in the morning. Sure, no problem. But when Panther strode back toward me with his helmet in hand and his Aviators in place, the pressure of having such precious cargo in my jet with me began to weigh a little heavier upon my shoulders.
He’s fallinggggg
