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September 1, 2011

Jordan International Airport

Freedom City

International Terminal

This is not why I joined UNISON thought Mark Lucas, keeping his annoyance off his face and a smile on it as he listened to his charge's complaints. "You have a UNISON escort because you're the daughter of a head of state of a UN-recognized nation," said Mark, feeling a little silly in his blue UNISON uniform. At least they hadn't made him wear the helmet on the plane. "and because Dr. Typhoon made the request personally." Princess Nina al-Darsah, the youngest daughter of Typhoon, the arch-nemesis of the Freedom League-turned-Middle-Eastern head of state, was about Mark's age. About to begin her first year as an FCU student, Nina was on her way back to Socotra for an urgent meeting with her father, who had requested not just a UNISON escort for his daughter but the most powerful agent in UNISON's employ. In fact, the man's exact words (as Mark had seen) had been "only the mightiest among your pitiful ranks is suitable to give security to the daughter of TYPHOON!" Pulled out of his camp on the Ivory Coast for this, Mark had spent the last day in the company of a gorgeous young woman with her father's tan skin, black hair, flashing eyes, and with the personality you'd expect from the daughter of one of the most absolute rulers on Earth. It hadn't been his favorite trip.

"That's the third time I've made you tell me that, Agent Lucas," said al-Darsah with an amused smile as she folded her hands before her. They were sitting next to each other in the first-class cabin, Mark's uniform and her Socotran dress with its merger of Arab and Indian styles having gotten a lot of attention along the way. "You're very obedient. I was hoping an agent of the United Nations would have a little more gumption. But I suppose you'd have to be good at following orders to wear that uniform of yours."

Oh, what the hell. If he was going to spend an entire transAtlantic flight next to this woman, the least Mark could do was try and make it interesting. What was the worst that could happen? "I'm good at all kinds of things, Princess," replied Mark with a warm smile as he turned on the charm. "And my job is to make sure you make it back to your father in one piece. And when we're done, if you'd like to see me out of uniform, I'd be happy to oblige you." He smiled, and actually got a blush from Nina, who'd evidently not expected that comeback. Out of high school and on his own, he'd only recently become aware of how good he was at flirting when he really put his mind to it. "In the meantime, though, the other passengers are arriving. Let's not give them any hint we're anything other than seatmates." They'd boarded the plane through a separate door for security, but since it was a regular commercial flight (Freedom City to Paris with a layover, and then to Socotra's big airport on the main island), the regular first class passengers were about to embark.

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"Well, it's NOT the Danger Jet," the blonde commented to her companion, her tone dryly amused. She looked as if she'd stepped off the set of some film noir spy movie from the large, dark sun glasses covering her eyes to the pencil thin skirt with the slit up the back and seamed stockings. The peep toe shoes she wore were break-your-ankle high but Talya moved with her usual languid, hip swaying grace between the large first-class seats. Except for a small clutch, she didn't have carry-on. "But I suppose it will do. Honestly, Ace, has the magic left our relationship? What's next? Coach?"

Talya slipped through to find her assigned seat and twisted to tuck her purse away under a seat, a teasing smile on her lips. Catching sight of the young UNISON agent, Talya pulled the glasses down lower on her nose to make sure that she was right in recognizing Rick Lucas' boy. Winking once at him and his charge, she turned her attention back to Ace and settled into her seat, crossing one long leg over the other.

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Ace shrugged with a just a hint of a smile. "I already told you, there was an incident over the Triangle." He explained for umpteenth time, "Besides this way you got to make that poor TSA employee oh so uncomfortable." he added with a nonchalant laugh.

His eyes drifted over Mark and his charge and upon recognition setting in flicked to see if she was cuffed or if this was a less formal engagement. One could never tell with these Dynastic Supervillain types after all. He gave Mark a polite nod of greeting and followed Bombshell to their seats. "Rick Lucas' boy is all grown up." he commented idly to his companion as he stowed his small briefcase in the overhead compartment.

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Cannonade felt a bit weird, wearing the helmet on a flight. It had been interesting running that through security, but the AEGIS security waiver had pretty much settled all questions with the TSA. It had been a while since he'd talked to Commander Grayston - since the debriefing on Doc Otaku's little tank hijack escapade, in fact - but when the man showed up on Cannonade's usual rooftop stopover in Lincoln, he wasn't exactly one to turn down an audience.

"So I'm going to be escorting a tyrant's daughter back home?" he asked when he was done looking over the dossier.

"This is the modern world, Mr. Macayle," he said. "'Tyrant' is a loaded term. And it's not exactly one we use to describe people who have the ability to turn Tennessee into beach front property." He paused. "At least, to their face."

"Doesn't exactly seem like an AEGIS matter, though."

"It is if there's a risk to Americans. Al-Darsah's got a stable hold on his country, but like anywhere else in the Middle East, it has its share of deep grudges and external tensions. Mostly external, thanks to Typhoon's security. If anyone wants to strike at Typhoon, odds are it's going to be through Daddy's girl. And if they do it on the plane..."

Cannonade didn't need to be told twice what a mess that would be. So, after making sure he had enough vacation days accrued at work, he took Grayston's offer. As the time until take off crawled along, he tried not to be distracted by the surroundings of first class. He'd only flown a few times before, one of them on the big family trip back to the old country that had wandered through Wales, England, and Scotland before his folks realized they had a bit of trouble tracking down said old country. Never in first class, though. He could get used to something like this...

Priorities, Joe. Priorities. He kept his eyes open, searching the cabin for any possible threats - but more importantly, for Al-Dasrah. The photo in his dossier had been slightly blurry, and he didn't exactly have the best of vantage points. Oh, well. When all else fails, keep an eye out for the UNISON members. Sure they'd be clustered around - holy crap, is that Edge?

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While he maintained his silent, stoic demeanor, Trevor Hunter was frankly in no mood. He'd been surprised to learn about the stocks that Alex Albright had managed to quietly give to Erin, more so once some cursory mathematics that revealed that they constituted if not a fortune certainly enough to keep any individual in reasonable comfort for a long time to come. He was truly glad that the dimensional refugee no longer had to worry about supporting herself, but in all honestly he found the prospect of her moving out of the manor and into her own apartment disheartening.

Regardless, the wealthy young man had enough experience with such matter to know that the AEON stocks were not yet money in pocket and that, properly managed, they could potentially grow into considerably more. As such, he contacted the best trader and all around business person he knew: his father, Ted Hunter. The elder man had sounded polite but distracted over the phone until his son had described the contents of this particular portfolio, at which point he had agreed to lend his expertise. As an after thought, Ted had noted it would be nice to meet Erica after hearing so much about her. There had been a long, awkward pause when Trevor had corrected him, the sort only a family of such laconic tendencies could have created. Finally, Ted had explained that his current projects would keep him from returning to Freedom City any time soon, and that the pair should join him overseas.

Privately wondering if the real reason for the arrangement was so that his father could avoid a reunion with the eldest Hunter had formed the seed of a sour mood, layered upon by Trevor's not inconsiderable distaste for flying. They'd decided to take a commercial flight rather than one of the aircraft from the Midnight Manor's pool for inconspicuousness' sake, meaning they had to suffer through the lines and waiting that even first class entailed. By the time they boarded the plane, the dark haired young man was too weary to even muster up any shock when a bright blue uniform drew his eye to a familiar face. "...Mark," he greeted with a shallow nod after a beat. Regarding his friend's companion with a moment of recognition, he added a deeper nod. "Princess." Anyone who didn't know the reserved engineer would have had trouble realizing that he hadn't been expecting to see them both all along.

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Erin didn't share Trevor's distaste for flying, but between her companion's mood, the lines at the airport and the nature of the errand itself, she was decidedly ill at ease by the time they boarded the plane. She still wasn't comfortable with the idea that she had money now, money that she hadn't really done anything to earn and that was somehow for the moment only theoretical anyway. Not to mention the nerves associated with meeting one of Trevor's parents for the first time! She didn't even know what to expect there. Maybe they could get this money and family stuff taken care of quickly and they'd have a little time in Paris before they had to head home.

As they boarded, she automatically noted and cataloged the first-class passengers, a weird-looking bunch today. Her eyes widened a little bit as she noticed Ace Danger in one of the seats, but she figured it would probably be very uncool to say anything about it, at least when they were neither of them working. She felt her mood lift a bit when she saw Mark. The trip would definitely be more interesting, anyway, with the luck controller aboard. "Hey," she greeted him with a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

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Mark had noted the arrival of Cannonade earlier; it was hard to miss the patriotic hero in his familiar helmet. But who knew so many people were going to show up. "Ace, Bombshell," he said with a little nod to the two older heroes. "Good to see you. Glad to know we'll have some celebrities on the flight." He grinned. He'd called Ace Danger Mr. Danger through adolescence, but now that he was eighteen years old and working as a UNISON agent, it was time to call the guy by his first name. That was okay, or so he hoped. "Hey, Erin and Trevor! Wow, what a coincidence!" He couldn't resist the urge to make introductions. "Erin White, Trevor Hunter, this is Nina. I'm escorting her to her destination. For, uh, work. Nina, I went to school with Erin and Trevor here in Freedom City." He'd have happily gabbed with Erin and Trevor all day if the chance presented itself, but of course here he was officially at work, escorting a princess secretly to her father's kingdom. Young Freedom seemed awfully far away.

"Charmed, I'm sure," said Nina with a flinty-eyed look as she looked over all the new arrivals. Evidently the daughter of Typhoon had been trained in the faces of his enemies, and she gave the sort of sneer that only really brave eighteen year olds can muster at the sight of Ace Danger and Bombshell. She'd been born long after her father had settled down as a potentate, which meant she'd have only encountered people like Ace and Talya in history books. For Trevor and Erin, she managed a smile. "So are there always so many of you super-types around Freedom City?" she asked Mark with a frown. "Am I going to have to deal with people having some sort of super-battle in the streets when I'm in the middle of my studies?" When told yes, she smiled. "Interesting. Perhaps this will be more than a dull exile after all."

Mark gave the others a half-smile and said, "I'm going to be pretty busy here, but maybe we can talk more when we're on the ground in Paris?" There wasn't much time to talk anyway, because now that the non-first class passengers had been dragooned into their seats, it was time to take off and get in the air.

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Ace flashed Nina a smile as he passed and warmly requested, "Do give my regards to your father it has been far to long since we exchanged hospitality." without a hint of irony in his clear voice.

As he sat down the timeless adventurer made a cursory survey of the cabin noting the obvious presence of Cannonade as well, seemed there were many parties interested in the scion of Typhoon. He smiled to Talia as Marks friends boarded, "Well it certainly is a flight with stellar companionship at the least." he suggested mildly. He nodded to Trevor with Faint recognition, "And the well healed elite of course." he wasn't about to reveal the hunter family history of heroics to bombshell though he idly wondered how Travis felt about his legacy being taken up.

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Talya gave a wave of her gloved fingertips to Mark and his charge, a smile tugging up the edges of her crimson lips before she touched the tip of her fingertip to them, "Talya is just fine when I'm not skulking about, dear boy. It's a pleasure, of course."

She settled into her chair, after a brief nod of her head to the direction that Ace pointed before settling back down. She smoothed the skirt over her thighs and shook her head at him, "That's because you are a terrible pilot. Honestly, 'Ace' indeed. You could have let me fly us. I would never do anything so ridiculous as to lose a year in the Triangle."

Talya clucked her tongue and reached out to pat his thigh as if she were comforting him in his terrible flying skills, "Dearest, you really should just stick to things that have wheels. Play to your strengths, I always say."

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As odd as it was seeing Mark in his UNISON uniform, Trevor wasn't remotely surprised to learn that the probability controller had managed to pull spending the day with an attractive celebrity as an assignment. The youngest al-Darsah's seemed more cordial than he might have expected, if a bit haughty; he wondered if that had influenced her desire to study abroad or vice versa.

The quiet young man had a polite inclination of his head for Ace and Talya as well. He was never quite sure what to make of the former Liberty League members. His grandfather considered them both war heroes, the bouts of poor press each had received over the year eliciting foul moods from the aging hero, but the younger Midnight had trouble reconciling that with the pair's over-the-top public personas.

Taking his seat next to Erin, he intoned almost inaudibly, "Rather stick to 'things with wheels' myself."

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Erin squeezed Trevor's fingers lightly as she settled into her own roomy seat. "Tough to drive over the Atlantic," she pointed out, "though I wouldn't put it past you. It's just for a few hours, and at least we're going in style." She poked approvingly at a few of the seat controls, turning on the seatback television and reclining her chair a couple of inches in the process. "Kind of weird that there are so many heroes on this flight," she observed in a murmur. "I wonder if the airline somehow groups them all together on purpose. In case somebody's nemesis attacks or something." That rumination probably wouldn't help Trevor any, but it was out before she could censor it.

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Cannonade was still busy scanning the cabin. He was well aware that he was probably a bit too paranoid about the whole situation, but then again, he'd never been in a situation like this. He'd been granted the authority of an AEGIS officer for the purposes of overseeing Al-Darsah's transfer, and he was going to live up to that. Besides... this was a delicate situation. His powers often didn't rely on precision or grace, and there was no worse case for collateral damage than a plane full of seated and strapped-in passengers - especially if something happened in flight over the Atlantic. If something happened, he needed to be sure he could be on it first -- and that he could hold the bastard down so that he didn't try anything stupid.

It was during one of these scans of the cabin that he fell on a familiar-looking fedora, and the face under it that seemed to be looking his way. Hoooooooly crap, he thought. Ace Danger! The Ace Danger! He's looking my way! I grew up on this guy's cartoons, and now I'm sharing a damn flight with him! Keep calm, Joe. Keep calm. The mission comes first. You can chat with the guy later. Just be cool...

He offered a confident, if slightly weak, wave back towards the veteran hero, a warm smile pasted across his face. Smooth, Joe. Reaaaaaal smooth.

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The first-class flight from Freedom City to Paris was full of amenities for the entertainment of passengers; pricey champagne and other fine spirits comped to all aboard (the French airline used French drinking laws rather than American once they were past the territorial limit), the sort of legroom that had once been standard fare on most transcontinental flights, fine food and good eating, and all in all the sort of luxury accommodations that had once made flying a pleasure rather than a burden. Despite the strong urge to slip back there and socialize with Erin and Trevor, Mark stayed loyal to his mission and stuck by Nina al-Darsah's side. It wasn't that unpleasant, really: for all her sharp tongue and haughty demeanor, Nina didn't seem to have a lot of experience with being openly and deliberately flirted with. She did seem to be enjoying it, though, and with her pretty dark eyes and shapely figure, was doing her best to make sure she stayed the center of Mark's attention.

Even when some surprise turbulence made everyone put their seatbelts on and forced them lower in the sky, Mark's eyes were focused on the lovely princess who had negligently let her hand fall on his earlier. Which was one reason Mark didn't notice the man flying at the nearby exit row until strong hands came along and ripped away the door entirely, air pressure and all dropped as the person outside forced his way in amid a howling hurricane of sound as the air itself rushed out of the rapidly descending plane. As passengers screamed and oxygen masks fell, a gloating bald man in a green uniform strode in, a swastika proudly emblazoned on his chest. "Oh, Princess!" he taunted, shouting over the rushing wind, as he headed straight for Nina. "I have a message to give your father! And you're going to help!"

Heedless of the rushing air and the imminent threat, Nina spat a terrible curse in Arabic as her drink exploded to life in her hand, champagne boiling up into icy claws on her knuckles. "You DARE threaten the daughter of Typhoon!?!" She was already trying to get out of her seat. "Then come at me, peasant!"

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Mark didn't hesitate: this was no time to worry about secret identities when everyone still on the plane was in deadly danger. "Get off the plane!" he spat, firing a blast of black energy from his seat as der Meistermann (who was supposed to be dead, wasn't he? Dead since the end of the war...) came swooping through the hole and into the body of the plane to target his angry charge. The blast scoured the Nazi's uniform and actually scorched the swastika on his chest, but after a moment's pause Meistermann shoved his way through the blast and came charging through it to take a swing at Mark! His punch missed Mark's head, the agile teen twisting at the last second, but he still buried his fist in the seat next to Mark's head.

"So, the princess has herself a hero!" he taunted. "An Aryan who fights for a filthy race whore no less! Let's see if you can fly, hero!" And with that, before Mark could react, the Nazi ghost from the past tore his seat right out of the deck and hurled it at the open hole behind him without so much as unfastening the teen hero. He felt a strong hand grab him on the way, but he was one slip away from going through the hole and his charge was unprotected before the oncoming Nazi menace!

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All eyes were naturally on the intruder's startling entrance, and by the time the trajectory of the UNISON agent's uncontrolled flight drew attention back to where Erin was seated, the chair next to her was mysteriously empty. Moments later, inky black mist rolled about der Meistermann's feet, the rushing winds of the depressurized cabin drawing it past him. Turning about, he found the grim figure of Midnight standing behind him, his pitch black outline made indistinct by the cloud rising from him like tendrils of living shadow. "Wrong plane, von Streitcher," came the cold, inflectionless voice echoing with the chill of oblivion.

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Von Streitcher paused, a look of surprise shading to fear on his face. "No, not you! It can't be! You're dead!" He hesitated a moment, having been about to grab the furious Arab-Indian princess who was clawing her way out of her seat restraints to grab him first. "It can't be you!" he said, though it didn't sound like he quite believed it, and the rampaging Nazi was already off his game from the surprise. "It'll be all the sweeter when I kill my second Midnight!" he said, driving one ham-sized fist into the other with a crack loud enough to echo even in the roaring plane. "But first, time to show you how a _real_ Aryan handles you, girl!" he spat, turning back on Nina.

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Erin had barely stood up in her seat when Edge came barreling towards her, seat and all, headed for the gaping doorway and the sky beyond. She caught him as easily as if he were a pop fly at third base, wedging his seat into the aisle where it wouldn't come loose. The instant of distraction was enough for her to lose track of Trevor, but that didn't last long. She smiled a little to see Midnight teaching von Streitcher some healthy fear, then turned her full attention to the most immediate danger.

The door to the plane wasn't entirely gone as she'd feared, but it was close, hanging from the hatch by a single metal clasp that was already badly warped. Holding her breath, she leaned out of the plane and snagged the emergency handle, using every bit of her considerable strength to fight weight and wind and air pressure to bring the door back to its place. Her face turned red with the strain, but for a long moment, the door didn't move. Spots exploded in front of her eyes as she redoubled her efforts, and suddenly the door was in motion, swinging back into the hatch and settling back into place in one rush that sent her nearly staggering. She held onto the handle and gasped for air, ignoring the combat for a moment.

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It took about half a second for Cannonade to realize why undoing his seat belt and getting up had been a bad idea. He wasn't exactly the most agile of individuals, but he'd braced against a whole lot of impacts in his time. Only none of them had been the rushing air current pouring out of a depressurized cabin about 30,000 feet above the ground. It took an unholy grip on the seat in front of him - he wouldn't be surprised if he'd left imprints on the steel frame - to keep from losing his balance and flying off into space.

Well this is a hell of a way to travel, he thought to himself, reorienting his field of vision and scanning the cabin. In the distance, he saw the Nazi rounding on Al-Darsah - he'd seen the man round on Midnight with shock, but couldn't hear what he'd said over the rushing current - and Wander struggling against the void to plug the door. He planted his feet on his chair and took note. Okay... air's moving pretty fast... I've managed to get a coast from air currents before... can't believe I'm doing this...

As the door was wrenched shut and the air current started to abate, Cannonade kicked off from his seat, releasing his grip. He went flying, his bulk sucked along by the blast -- but that was what he'd been intending. He coasted over the heads of confused passengers as he closed the distance with the costumed Nazi. As the last few feet between them vanished, he had his arm extended, ready for impact.

He felt his bicep collide with the Nazi's head - probably not the nose, given the lack of crunching noise or jabbing sensation in his arm, but maybe the mouth or chin - and his body jerk like it had been tugged with a cable. His feet went flying out from under him, and he just managed to plant them on the floor of the cabin half a second letter. He had the Nazi's head in a death grip, and squeezed as he maintained leverage.

"Y'know," he said, "I bet you think you're really impressive right now. You managed to rip open an airplane, piss off a teenage girl, and almost kill a bunch of innocent people. Great wins for ya, I'm sure." He tightened his grip. "So. Which one are ya - terminally stupid fanboy, or artifact of the world's biggest screw-up?"

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Von Strietcher grabbed Cannonade by the front of his costume and slammed him against the wall so hard that Cannonade felt the aluminum airframe buckle beneath the sheer force of his impact. "Well well, if it isn't another familiar face!" he sneered. "If I had known so many of you would be on this flight, I would have brought friends so they could all enjoy the sounds of your pathetic bones snapping between our hands!" Leering, he loomed over the shorter Cannonade and made as if to smash him in the head. "Fool, I have torn the sternjuden from the sky and shattered armies with my mighty fists! You are nothing to me but another verdammt hero!"

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"Why is it that whenever we get together, there are always Nazis? Isn't there an expiration date on them? Something? Seriously, am I going to get to a hundred and still be having a nice holiday interrupted by yet another return of the Third Reich? What are we on, anyways, seven? Eight?" Talya murmured to Ace as she slipped out of her seat nimbly and despite rushing air and tipping plane, made her way through the seats and towards the conflict.

"Entschuldigen Sie!" Talya said when she was close into the conflict and tapped the burly arm, "Der Krieg ist vorbei. Sie haben verloren. Vielleicht bist du verwirrt?*"

She paused, and tipped her head to the side, flashing her most winning smile, a show of bright white teeth between crimson red lips as she switched to English, "You do look familiar though. Perhaps I've threatened you before? If so, you should realize that this is the point where the nasty surprise kicks in."

Talya made a show of looking down at the slender watch clasped around her wrist, fully expecting to get stared at by the Nazi and hopefully give that strapping young lady wrenching steel back into a place a chance to cold cock him. Talya, after all, was all about girl power, "Right about now, I'd say."

[* - "Excuse me!" "The War is over. You lost. Perhaps you're confused?"]

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Having sliced her way free from her twisted restraints, Nina was on her feet with murder in her eyes. "You pathetic old has-been," she sneered as water curled like knives around her fingers. "Your Fuhrer was a syphilitic fool and his followers nothing but gutter-trash anarchists with the blood of mongrel white-faced dogs in their veins!" She sliced the air with a long, razor-edged whip of water and actually sliced a bloody cut across the surprised Nazi's face. "When my father learns what you've done, he will drown your beloved fatherland beneath the cleansing waters of the sea! And I will be there to watch!" She laughed, a sharp-edged smile on her face: for those familiar with Dr. Typhoon's abilities, actually drowning the entire country of Germany was probably beyond even his power. Probably...

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Ace was seemingly unperturbed by the sudden spurt of violence and chaos aboard the plane, whether due to an unflappable nature, a good poker face, or most likely living a life where a trans-Atlantic flight without interruption by the powers of evil was the exception not the rule was anyones guess. He shrugged lightly to his companion, "Counting has never been their forte." he mused quietly, "Most still think they're on three."

As the exceptional young woman wrenched the door back into place he slowly stood the wind now not so much an impediment. "Why Princess I do believe your father has managed to collect an enemy I like less than him." he declared casually as he eyed the ubersoldaten. "Hair hasn't grown back yet?" He inquired voice full of mockery, "Well it's not so bad your head isn't that misshapen I suppose." he drove home trying to keep the furious nazis attention where it belonged on him rather than on his mission or the rather hulking fellow who had tackled him.

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Edge disentangled himself from his seat, glad to find himself alongside his old friends again. Maybe he hadn't been the most effective bodyguard, but even with his head ringing from that near-miss blow, he'd seen that the princess was all right for the moment and everyone there had rallied together against the Nazi super-thug who'd tried to kill not just Nina but every other person on the plane! My greatest power always was my friends, he thought with a smile. And then, as Ace's words turned der Meistermann's bald head a brilliant shade of red, he laughed. "Hey, Ratzi!" he taunted. "You think you're here to send a message? The only message you're sending is how stupid you are to attack a plane full of superheroes! And with Typhoon's daughter on board no less! Come on, guys, let's show him how Freedom's heroes handle Nazi scum!"

"Fools!" spat Meistermann in reply. "You think you can frighten me with your powers! I AM Power!" He smashed his fists together and came for Edge. "I'll pop your head like a grape!"

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"Haven't seen power," Midnight corrected calmly as Meistermann whirled about from hero to hero, sputtering at their casual taunts and scorn. The stoic, unnervingly still figure in black burst suddenly into movement as the Nazi finally focused his attention on Edge, springing forward and drawling twin escrima sticks from their holders on his shins in one fluid motion. The weapons cracked down on what would have been a debilitating weak point on any normal human; for the enraged übermensch it served as a shock that took him momentarily off-guard and opened him up to further attack.

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Even as Midnight pulled back his sticks, Wander was moving in, the precise and fluid timing the result of many hours of practice. Given the odds and the fact that the Nazi was in sorry shape already, she considered demanding his surrender, but then she saw him eyeing the undamaged side of the plane like he was looking to escape. That was the last thing they needed. There was no room to unfold her bat in the narrow aisles, so she simply stepped around Edge's wayward seat and drew her bat, using it like a nightstick as she deftly smacked the Nazi on each size of his bald head, then once at the base of his neck, all within the space of a moment, sending the giant crashing down.

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