jumps between buildings

I considered the distance. It was a good fifteen-foot jump to get from one rooftop to the other—an easy throw.
“Douglas,” I shouted, “think about this for a minute. The swords aren’t just sharp and shiny. They’re symbols. If you take one up for the wrong reasons, you could destroy it. Believe me, I know.”
“The swords are meant for better things than to molder in a dingy basement,” he replied. He held up the detonator. “Surrender them now.”
I stared at him for a long second. Then I tossed the entire bag over. It landed at his feet with a clatter. He bent down to open it.
I steeled myself. This was about to get dicey. I hadn’t counted on the dead-man switch or a fifteen-foot-long jump.
Father Douglas opened the bag. The smoke grenade Michael had rigged inside it in his workshop went off with a heavy thud. White smoke billowed back into his face. I took three quick steps and hurled myself into the air. For an awful portion of a second, twenty stories of open gravity yawned beneath me, and then I hit the edge of the other roof and collided with Father Douglas. We went down together.


Side Jobs, The Warrior, Page 256