For the most part, Mohinder ignored Matt. He was too busy removing the battery from the back of the flip phone, holding the power button in, and shaking it mightily as if it might coerce a little bit of juice to magically be produced from empty cells in order to let him make one phone call.

Peter probably didn't have his phone on him and...well, it very likely exploded when he did, come to think of it. Luckily, the professor didn't really have to think up a contingency plan after all. There wasn't even a blip of a green light, no momentary spark of a screen lighting up.

It was dead.

"I was attempting to call someone," Mohinder said as blandly as Matt had been speaking, emulating the other without really meaning to before he pulled his long legs under him and pushed himself from the ground. The phone was returned before he glanced out the window. It was a good thing that he didn't fear heights.

They wouldn't even have to break the window...but Mohinder was likely the only one able to shimmy out without the destruction.

And what would he do then? Be rounded up by one of the soldiers? Maybe he could find Peter.

"This is...slightly terrifying. I miss nearly being hit by a car every time I cross the street," he muttered. "Life was simpler in Brooklyn."