But Stace doesn't care. She's got the waves whipping through her ears and a handful of chips in her mouth. She hails a nearby helicopter and they drop a ladder to let her climb aboard. In fact, they're so well-prepared they give her a whole crateload of extra chips, since they are a chip-delivery helicopter after all. Stace tells them she's gotta run, so they divert from the beach and speed towards the other side of the ocean.
They toss her out at the foot of a massive complex owned by an unsurprising billionaire.
"Would you like a chip?" she asks the security guard, "Sorry, a fry."
The guard agrees and it's so good she lets her through. When I arrive, hot on Stace's tail, I snap the guard's neck and let myself through.
There's a massive space rocket waiting in the centre. Stace slams all of the controls, dons a spacesuit, and climbs on board with as many chips as she can fit into a freeze-pouch. Luckily, she's got plenty of oil to burn.
But I don't need protection. I grab onto the side of the shuttle as it drifts off through the atmosphere.