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Jordan International Airport

9/19/2015, 10:15 AM, Partly Cloudy


Spend enough time around airports and one grew accustomed to the dull roar of distant jet engines and the skipping skreech of landing gear hitting the runway.  The endless ballet of the airspace over a busy international airport had it's own rhythms and meter to those familiar.  Thus it was the change in that rhythm that first would clue in Casey Blankenship of something out of the ordinary, something hard to place in the ordering of landings and take offs, a change in the dull background signals of busy radio bands, then a series of encrypted signals and the sign of sure trouble as she picked up the command from flight control diverting all aircraft from Jordan International where she sat trying to concentrate on her homework whilst she awaited her father finishing whatever business it was that had brought him here this morning.  The signal, tight beam and encrypted, could be felt moments before his communicator trilled in the briefcase he left behind, "AEGIS Calling Vigilant, Suspected 7500 need eyes on."


Inside the Airport there was little to indicate the drama unfolding in the skies above, people slowly made their way through security, passengers awaited flights in uncomfortable seat occasionally checking departure or arrival times.  An alert patron might have heard the a distant scream, or noticed uniformed TSA officers rushing to the restrooms near an empty gate.  But for most no sign of trouble was likely to be noticed until the boards suddenly refreshed and all flights were marked as delayed, a sure sign of trouble.  Those sitting close enough to the gates boarding desk might have heard the whispered supposition that air traffic lost contact with a plane above or that it had broken its flight plan.  Neither a good sign to be sure.


In the skies over Freedom Archtech test pilot Naomi Baines testing the latest adjustments to the flight pack her employers were developing would hear some of the chatter as planes were grounded and military escorts mustered.  Given the dangers in the skies Archetech protocol would be to land unless called in by authorities of course.  Then again Archtech protocol wasn't exactly designed with a nigh immortal hero in mind.  There certainly was an argument to be made that Jordan International was the closest safe landing area after all.


On board flight 1200 Freedom to London there was little to indicate anything amiss.  Regular travelers if they were paying attention might notice they didn't seem to be traveling east as one would expect, but for most in the skies over freedom there were few enough clues as to where they were that it was unlikely to take anything amiss.  The Flight attendants began to walk the aisles taking drink orders and all seemed normal until a child gleefully pointed out in a staccato squeal, "Look Mamma the Sentry Statue again We passed it three times now!"  Why would the plane be circling Freedom city and why hadn't the flight crew alerted the passengers?

Edited by angrydurf
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Almost without prompting, Seahawk shifted the color of her suit from it's test-pilot liveried red to a flat navy blue, the life preserver shifted red, and white lines ran along the various field generator lines on the suit. She tightened the restraints on the flight pack, changing her IFF identification before powering up her systems. She moved the sailor collar a little that sat over the life preserver. "You know I could understand the concept of some neck protection, but I'm neither Navy or a Schoolgirl."

The tower at her usual airfield, Trainor Airport, chirped back from Archetech's Aeronautics Division HQ there. "We had to hide the spray hood and supplemental head-rest air bladder somewhere. Also... Just noticed you switched IDs, AEGIS is cordoning the airspace around the crisis and they've ordered all aircraft to tarmac with the quickness. Might wanna comply."

"Luckily I'm not an aircraft. Commencing Sortie!"

Seahawk takes off, straight-vectoring towards the aircraft in no-time, starting check of the aircraft trying to keep out of view of the passengers. Last thing she needed was to cause a panic on board. "Attention all capes in the area. Seahawk on scene. Do not approach from eye-level of the aircraft, might spook the passengers on-board." She said, before looking over the aircraft, first from the bottom, then from the top, but flying by the cockpit so that she could see the situation there.

Edited by The Osprey
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Eduardo Herrera was a man who lived life on a tight schedule, and didn't appreciate when that schedule was disrupted. When he was informed his private jet was, for the time being, grounded, he was none too pleased about it. He paced up and down the corridor, barking instructions in rapid-fire Spanish to one of his underlings in Mexico City over the phone while Aníbal and his mother stood back and watched the show.

"He's always like this when he's late", Aníbal's Mom whispered to her son, who responded with a knowing grin and a nod.

"... and tell Hernandez I want the contract for the China deal drawn up by tomorrow. Tomorrow, you hear?", the Herrera patriarch ended the call, his practiced accent slipping a bit to reveal traces of his origins, as it usually did when he got upset. 

"We can get coffee while we wait, Papa", Aníbal suggested, "What's going on, anyway?"

"I don't know. But something's not right.", his father replied, casually glancing around the interior of the airport. Eduardo Herrera was a man with a finely honed talent for reading situations and people, noticing the little details and telltale signs about things. You didn't get to where he was today without paying attention to details and patterns, and today something seemed off. The Yankees were always paranoid about airport security, but today they seemed more nervous than usual. The airport staff wasn't very forthcoming when he demanded to know why the plane was grounded, but their assurance that other people's planes were in the same situation was revealing. The notice board soon turned red with delays, confirming his suspicions. Something had gone wrong.

The family, accompanied by two burly bodyguards who kept a respectable distance, soon sat down at a nearby airport café and ordered drinks. People chattered about the situation at the neighboring tables, and rumors started to circulate. Air traffic control had lost contact with one of the planes. A malfunction, or terrorists? Something suspicious was happening in the skies above Freedom, that was for certain.

Aníbal sipped his Coke and seemed contemplative, his gaze moving downwards towards the black Duffel bag he carried with him. Inside was his flight suit. He planned on going flying for a bit after saying goodbye to Mama and Papa. 

"Maybe I should go up there, see what's happening.", he remarked. 

"No. Absolutely not.", his father sternly replied after nearly choking on his coffee.

"Why not? You said it yourself, something's not right."

"And what are you? The police? Homeland Security?!", his father continued, "Don't be stupid, Aníbal. Just go to your school and take it easy. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

"I'm not trying to prove anything, Papa. I'm trying to help.", Aníbal replied.

"No. Out of the question. Let the Yankees handle this themse... Aníbal!"

Before his father could finish his sentence, Aníbal had finished off his drink and bolted towards the exit, bag in hand.

"I'll be back to say goodbye. Don't worry!". he shouted to his parents.

"Aníbal!", his father yelled before slumping into his chair, grumbling. "Such a stubborn boy!"

"I wonder where he gets it from...", Mrs Herrera commented with a smirk and took a sip of her latte.


A few minutes later, after a change of wardrobe, El Huracán was in the air, soaring above the airport like an eagle. It struck him that it may not have been the smartest decision to take to the skies before informing the authorities, but it was too late for that. Ascending, he tried to find the source of the disturbance. Eventually, after some fumbling around, he managed to find the one airplane still flying above Freedom City's biggest airport. It flew slowly, slower than normal, and seemed to be going round in circles. He approached cautiously, avoiding the exhaust of the jet engines and looked it over. Aníbal knew little about airplanes, except the general idea - big, metal birds powered by jet fuel that took you from A to B. He didn't know what to look for or where to look for it, so his inspection turned up nothing. Just then, he realised he had no idea what to do now that he was here. Perhaps his father was right: leave this to the professionals. Still, he did notice one thing: someone else was in the air with him, apparently with the same general idea. Or perhaps this person, who he did not recognise, was the cause of the problem? Whatever the case, he made his way to the front of the plane, next to the cockpit, and casually took his place at Seahawk's side.

"Hello", he said, loud enough to be heard over the noise of the wind and the jet engines, "Lovely day for flying, isn't it?"

He awaited the woman's reaction. Friend or foe?


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Last night, Casey's father let her know he'd be in town on business, so in the morning they could meet for the breakfast buffet at the airport like they always did. However now that they together, he kept getting called away by classified phone calls, leaving his daughter to slowly work her way through a massive plate of eggs, sausage and waffles as she tapped out a paper on her tablet between forkfuls of yum. She sighed as she looked out the enormous plate glass windows and up into the sky, fondly taking in the stately waltz of the jets. But something weird was going on; several of the planes were deviating from the usual flight paths. Her eyes darted about, noting all the planes in holding patterns all over the sky

"That's not right..."

Casey was not nosy by nature; in fact, she went out of her way to respect other people's privacy. But when it came to her amazing ears, she did have a tendency to eavesdrop; not on private conversations of course, but she'd gotten into the habit of casually sweeping the police and military bands for signs of trouble every once and a while. And to be honest, she did it a lot when she was bored or having trouble sleeping. But right now, it seemed like a pretty good idea to have a good listen.

Oh damn. Oh crap.

She sat up in her seat, craning her neck around to catch a glimpse of her dad, but not seeing him, she made a hasty decision. After making sure no one was looking (others had started to notice something wasn't right), she polished off her her plate in seconds, quickly scribbled down a note for her dad, grabbed her hemp shoulder bag, and then slipped out of the lounge and into the nearest ladies' room, emerging seconds later as Miracle Girl! There was a rush of air as she deftly threaded between passengers, baggage carts and airline personnel as she made her way to the tarmac and took to the air in search of the troubled aircraft.


Edited by Heritage
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By the time the gathered defenders of Freedom took to the skies around the rogue plane most all other air traffic had been grounded.  In the distance overhead the fliers ears could pick out the engines of the scrambled squad of fighters using the clouds for cover and those monitoring the radio bands the chatter of their encrypted communications as they maneuvered overhead though one didn't need to be able to break the code to know why they were there.

The plane was roaring through the sky just above stall speed banking in a slow fixed loop over the city.  There was no obvious mechanical issues, landing gear were withdrawn though the flaps were in low speed landing position still.  To a cursory examination nothing looked out of the ordinary other than the planes odd radio silence and deviation from it's flight path.  It maintained sufficient elevation to be well clear of the buildings and monuments of Freedom City and and it's flight characteristics were exactly as one would expect from a professional pilot holding position over the city.  Why it had deviated however was less evident something was surely amiss.

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"No time for introductions... the majority of the cockpit crew except for the captain are either in a critical state or dead." Seahawk said, as best she could over the noise around them. "And the captain is controlling the plane. I'd rather not have a fight on our hands as the plane goes down for lack of a pilot."

She looked down one of the sides. "We can get in through the door where they send luggage into, but we'll have to move quick as there will be an alarm. But I don't want to tear anything off on the outside. I'll get the door open and keep it steady while you get in, and then secure it behind us. Then we'll have to hurry. If anything if there's no access to the plane I'll have to make it. But at least there won't be a skin breach."

She switches to a listened to emergency channel used in civilian aviation, one that perhaps might not be listened to right now by the person flying. After all if there wasn't a distress call, they wouldn't have set the channel. "ATC JFC this is Seahawk. I have one cape with me, we're going to attempt to gain access to the errant aircraft, without damaging it externally."

She turned to El Hurrican. "Now or never." She said, flying over to the door where the luggage storage section could be accessed. Matching speed she gets ready to usher El Hurracan into the plane first. She was going to have to rely on every ounce of strength to keep the door from coming off from the rushing air around them, or from coming suddenly shut on the, to her, unknown hero.

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Once up in the air, Casey was quickly able to spot the aircraft in trouble and check it for signs of damage; what she saw in the cockpit was even more disturbing. "Oh, Jesus..." The plane also seemed to have some puzzling nonstandard gear, as well as two human figures alongside it, one of whom she recognized. "Miss Baines? That's a bit of luck!" She picked up Seahawk's broadcast, set her jaw, and then zoomed down to the tail section as fast as she could.

"Hi! You two look like you could use some help!" Quickly grasping the plan, Miracle Girl joined the Welsh flier by the door, ready to dig her fingers into the metal and lend a hand. "On the count of three! One, two, three!"

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"Remember, don't damage the airframe, Miracle Girl... if you somehow get dislodged just fly and compensate." Seahawk said, before opening the hatch ushering El Hurrican and Miracle Girl into the plane, using all of her strength amplified by her psychic power directed into her very muscles to keep the door from getting damaged, leveraging her flight in the process to ensure her goals. She just hoped the low altitude was going to be of help.

"Go! We'll talk on the next part of my plan inside!"

She just hoped she was making the right call... This was her first real "capey" sort of misadventure... she just hoped she could change the definition to "mission accomplished" and everyone would be safe and sound on the ground...

Edited by The Osprey
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Whoever the woman was, she had an air of authority, and seemed to have a plan in mind. Whether to trust her or not was a big question, but Aníbal went with his gut feeling and decided to go along with her initiative. After all, she seemed to trust him, even though she had no reason to. 

"Okay", he replied and flew with her towards the door. Just then they were joined by another flier, a blond girl. Aníbal nodded in a cursory greeting. There would be time for introductions and pleasantries later. The hatch opened and he flew inside, turned towards the door and extended his hand to aid in concentration. A few seconds later, Seahawk could probably feel the rushing air around her changing direction, with a strong counter-current helping to keep the hatch opened and the door attached to the plane. Let's hope your plan works, whatever it is, El Huracán thought, standing ready to assist her with closing the hatch once she got inside.

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When the door opened almost immediately a yellow klaxon began to flash an alert of the breached door, doubtless the alarm was wired to the cockpit as well maybe if they were lucky it would go unnoticed but the element of surprise was in question.  Once the Heroes gathered inside and managed to relatch the cargo door the klaxon ceased leaving them in the dim lighting of the cargo bay luggage heaped along the walls and restrained in the usual fashion.  Wending their way forward a dog in one of the kennels starts barking suddenly startling the pets in the other three carriers nearby.  Just forward from the kennels secure storage a small ladder ascends up towards the passenger deck likely emerging into the mid-plane flight attendant station.

The ladder is clearly too small for more than one person to ascend at a time and it is difficult to make out in the gloom the mechanism for the door opening into the passenger decks but it seems unlikely to be much larger than the cramped ladder.  

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"As expected." Seahawk muttered. More annoyed at the engineering of the craft to cram in as many passengers as sardines... wait, the passengers...

"I'm hoping the crazy pilot didn't see that light on his control panel..." She said, making sure the luggage door was sealed. "Okay, more than likely seeing three costumed invaders is gonna cause a freak-out. Miracle Girl, take the lead. To be honest, I'd prefer you took the lead in general. You're good in a crisis. If there is questions I can trust you can keep your cool... and can calm the passengers. While you keep them calm I and this guy here can take the front. I'm sure the door to the cockpit, locked or not won't last long against my strength."

"And sorry, don't know your name, new guy... but we can handle intros later."

She sighed. "That and if there are any air marshals, I can take a bullet or two... seriously. As long as I'm not actually killed I'm okay. I can heal pretty fast too."

She accesses her radio again on the emergency frequency. "We're inside. If at all possible try to contact the stewardesses there's three capes onboard ready to assist. We're returning to radio silence."

Taking a deep breath she looked to the others. "To be honest this is my first rescue. Umm... if there is anything to add to the plan, I'm all ears... literally in this case."

Edited by The Osprey
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Aníbal muttered a juicy Mexican profanity as he noted the alarm light flashing inside the baggage compartment. So much for the stealthy approach. As the trio all made it inside and closed the hatch, the alarm turned off, although several pets were upset by the arrival of the intruders. His goggles adjusted to the dim lighting inside the cargo bay. This wasn't going too well, although there was a chance the infiltration could still be salvaged. 

"This guy here" was taken aback as Seahawk referred to him while laying out the rest of her plan. He remembered that they hadn't been introduced. 

"It's An... El Huracán.", he managed to squeeze in an introduction before Seahawk continued, almost fumbling an introducing himself by his real first name. This was all very new to him.

As Seahawk finished and asked for feedback, he tried thinking on his feet, but found he had little to add. That last bit wasn't encouraging.

"My first time as well...", he remarked, his accent making it sound a little bit like smutty innuendo, "I think it's probably best we deal with things as we go. We don't know what the situation is like up there, if the captain is acting solo or if he has people working with him among the passengers. Best not to overplan things and just move ahead. I should warn you that I'm not much use in close quarters. This suit can take a bullet or two, but high calibre rounds might be a problem."

He took his position behind Casey, ready to move up out of the baggage hold.

"Also...", he said as he turned once more to Seahawk, "Now it's your turn to introduce yourself."

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"Seahawk." She said, turning to El Hurrican. "Let's just say it's been one heck of a year so far for me." She said. "Died a few times, gotten myself into some weird things..."

She looked back. "Sorry for sounding short. Test piloting I can handle, If I get myself into trouble there's always that handle between my legs. This... there's a bit ridin' on this. I'm just hoping this doesn't turn into a panic the moment people see us. I know for a fact a good number of people on planes are already wired up for danger as is, and all it'd take is someone with a latent plane-phobia to lose it."

"I'm not the "calm the waters" type." She said, opening her helmet that opened up and folded back enough to be slid into a pocked on her flight pack and pulling back the hood of her suit, keeping her goggles over her eyes, her long elf-like ears were showing. "This is about as much as I can show of my identity. My twin sis... well let's just say she's a bit more open."

Casey knew that was part of the deception Seahawk used to cover her identity. But she did seem a bit bad at hiding the fact.

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Miracle Girl smiled and offered the young man a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, El Huracán." Her Spanish pronunciation was excellent, suggesting fluency. "Well, I'm pretty much bulletproof, too, though we want to be careful about ricochets. I can also see into the infrared spectrum, which can be handy at times like this; plus I'm fast-" There was a slight breeze, and now her hair was in a pair of adorable pigtails. "Now let's get this door open and do our best."

Though she was young, Casey was getting increasingly confident in her abilities, and in general kept a level head in a crisis; also her warm friendly demeanor tended to have a calming effect on innocent civilians. She quickly did a few quick breathing exercises from her tae kwon do classes, then gave Seahawk the nod.

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"Now or never... The sooner I'm in that cockpit, the sooner we're getting this bird home safe."

Seahawk opened the door into the cabin, crossing the threshold first, but then when she was able to, she let Casey take the lead as the face of the mission. "Good luck, Miracle Girl..."

She gulped, first time she's had to deal with a unknown variable like passengers on a potentially troubled airliner. She's never trained for this. In-cockpit emergencies, sure, but not dealing with potentially a couple hundred untrained, possibly scared, and possibly easily moved to violent action passengers. In fact there was some visible sweat coming off her brow. But she trusted Casey. Even if she was a kid she had something. The new guy... well at least he was willing to help, perhaps he's got a few tricks too.

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Seahawk had to push hard on the small hatch before opening the door enough to squeeze out from under the counter where the passage let out.  She was quickly confronted by the cause of her trouble, a slight gentleman in a flight attendant uniform, unconscious from appearances.  Once Seahawk was out of hte way the others could begin to squeeze out as well though the small kitchenette vestibule was rather crowded with all of them inside it.  There was the faintest hint of smoke on in the air and a badly charred in flight meal on the counter, peeking through the curtain a tall female attendant could be seen facing what appeared to be a nervous and upset flier standing in the aisle.  

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Naomi quirked an eyebrow... but then there was a suprise...

The older gentleman stands a worried frown fixed on his features, "Miss is there a problem?  We seem to be-"  he goes silent jaw working wordlessly as his eyes go wide and he unconsciously clutches his briefcase closer to his chest, "J-j-jeniffer?"  he stammers the question wordlessly his body language tense looking like he's about to bolt though there is nowhere to run.  "W-what are you doing here?"

The flight attendant let out a light carefree laugh at his initial question, "Oh no problem sir."  she replied as he recognized her and drew back fearfully, "Hello Doctor Warfield."  she purred, "Long time no see."  she said with venom canting one hip as she spoke.  "You have been very very naughty."  she growled as vague ripples formed in the air above her as if looking out over a hot parking lot in summer.

"N-n-no no no."  Warfield babbled as he backed away, "Jennifer don't do this I'm just trying to help the-"  He was cut off however as the woman broke in, "WE ARE NOT SOME DISEASE TO BE CURED!"  She roared as the air around her ignited in flame burning away her uniform and leaving her standing sheathed in fire.

Naomi had the look like that the plan they had... was out the window. Time for action.

Seahawk didn't waste time. She closed the distance with one pulse from her flight pack. Fire in a oxygen rich environment was a bad, bad idea. Luckily Seahawk's flight pack used something more exotic, but incapable of lighting things on fire. Just as the would-be firestarter revealed herself there was a golden light careening towards the back of her head, one she was yet to be aware of. And that light was coming from Seahawk's fist! This time her eyes were glowing as well... eyes of determination, as her namesake striking her prey!

In fact for those that saw it, like her teammates, it almost looked like Seahawk had translucent wings of sparkling energy coming from her back as well...

Edited by The Osprey
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The glowing fist slammed into the fiery villain with thunderous force the flames around the impact point flaring bright and scorching hot as the psychic energy sheathing her fist was burned away.  Firestarter seemed nearly unphased by the mighty blow though it did drive her a step forward as she sneered at Seahawk, "I've got bigger fish to fry." she growled and flung a hand behind her to send a scorching blast into wakefield's chest the bag clutched there bursting into flames and burning to ash leaving a smouldering stain on the doctors shirt as he cried out in pain and terror, "Noooo Jennifer what have you done!"  he screamed as he patted out the flames, "We are just trying to help your kind."  he groveled as he continued to back away, "You can stop this!"

The flaming woman laughed at the begging and outrage, "Silly human, we are the cure to the disease of your weakness." she spat and turned to the heroes before her, "The Fellowship shall rise and you sycophants will bend or BURN!"  She roared as the flames around her grew wilder singing nearby seats with the heat as frightened passengers cowered against the walls of the plane.

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Aníbal followed the two superheroines out of the baggage hold, emerging into a cramped little kitchenette. The scene revealed something was very wrong here indeed. He winced as he noticed the flight attendant lying out cold on the floor. There was no time to aid the poor fellow, they had to press on. As the trio of heroes looked behind the curtain to scope out the situation in the passengers' area, it became evident that something was going on inside. Aníbal couldn't make out what the agitated older man was saying to the tall flight attendant, nor what she said in response. His ears were still buzzing slightly from flying outside, and the pair were far away. Nevertheless, when he witnessed the flight attendant suddenly burst into flames, the fine details of their exchange were beside the point. That was, presumably, one of the hijackers. Before he had time to speak, Seahawk had already acted on instinct, charging towards the flame-wreathed girl with incredible speed and power. He watched with awe as the superheroine attacked on wings of golden energy, her fist smashing into her opponent in a resounding blow. The blow, however, did little. The flaming woman shrugged it off.

His heart sank as he watched the woman cockily send a blast of flames towards the old man, but breathed a sigh of relief when she merely hit his leather bag. Or was she aiming for the bag? In either case, there was no time to think. As Firestarter roared her threat, Aníbal stepped a few feet forward into the passengers' area with only one thought on his mind. An open flame in a closed area filled with people was bad news. He needed to snuff her out.

"Everyone stay in your seats and remain calm...", he called out to the nearby passengers, trying to sound as authoritative as possible, given his age and the circumstances being what they are.

"Oye, chica...", he raised his voice, fixing his gaze on the flaming woman, "This is a non-smoking flight."

He felt the air moving in the sealed, air-conditioned environment, and focused his attention on Firestarter. In a few seconds, the air around her began to shift, creating a vacuum, limited precisely to her. Her impressive flames flickered out, deprived of an oxygen supply.

"NOW!", he shouted to Miracle Girl and stepped aside to give her enough room to attack the extinguished pyrokinetic while she was vulnerable.

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If there's one thing Casey always hated, it was bullies, especially the supervillain variety. It made her sick to see a poor defenseless man reduced to begging by somewho who wielded death at her fingertips. 

So the blonde teen was delighted the Hispanic air control left their target wide open; there was a quick rush of wind, and suddenly Miracle Girl was directly in from burning woman, arms up and bouncing on the toes of her red Doc Martins in a classic fighting stance.

And then she delivered a simply beautiful roundhouse kick to the side of the older woman's head, pivoting smoothly as her right leg snapped foward and back with the force of a cannon.


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As the flames around her were snuffed out Firestarters eyes grew wide her face contorted with rage, "How Dar-"  she bellowed cut off mid sentence by the sudden spinning kick form Miracle girl.  Her head snapped to the side and for a long moment it seemed as if she had shrugged off this mighty blow as well.  She looked at miracle girl meeting her eyes before they crossed rolling back into her head before she collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.  A tangle of arms and legs streaked with soot and bare scraps of charred polyester the only thing somehow preserving her modesty.

Around the heroes the crowd erupted in cheers lunging from their seats to congratulate and thank the victorious heroes for saving them the doctor looked down at the charred remains of his briefcase and then to the villain silently mouthing, "Why Jenny?"

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Seahawk wasn't pleased... as the heroes were suddenly the toast of the cabin, Seahawk cleared her throat. "Ahem... I need to check on the pilot, please, if everyone will return to their assigned seats and fasten their seatbelts, I would appreciate that. Everyone on this plane can rest assured you will be arriving to your destination safely!"

She turned to Miracle Girl and El Hurrican. "Let's head up front."

She whispered what she said next to her compatriots. "Cockpit time."

She turned to look down the isle. Speaking up. "Clear the isle please, everyone." She said, before activating her flight pack and hurredly as best she could went down the isle to the pilot's cabin.

She stood at the door waiting for the others. She turned on her com-link radio in a whisper over the aviation emergency frequency, darkening her faceplate so no one could see her face to read her lips. "Control this is Seahawk again. This plane has been Hijacked. My team's taken care of one of them. Attempting to secure the cockpit." She said, waiting for the others... "Returning to radio silence..." she wasn't going to do this alone. She looked around to see if there were any stewardesses about. Not to mention the overall behavior of the cabin. She became as quiet as a ghost, standing where the knob would be of the door, to see if it was opened or locked...

Edited by The Osprey
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A blur flew past him and materialised several feet away in the form of Miracle Girl, who delivered a beautiful roundhouse kick to the side of the supervillain's head. Aníbal breathed a sigh of relief when the hijacker keeled over after a few tense moments. That went well, he thought. Much better than he expected. The girl on fire could talk a big talk, but was easily dispatched with a bit of strategic thinking. When the passenger's cheered their victory, he smiled and briefly struck a gallantly heroic pose before continuing up the isle, nodding and greeting the passengers but gently nudging them back to their seats. While the immediate danger was over, the situation was still not resolved. He was about to address the passengers himself when Seahawk took care of it, issuing pretty much the exact instructions he had in mind. He noticed the fallen hijacker's would-be victim standing near her and went to check on him.

"Sorry about the bag, we did our best", he offered with an apologetic smile as he gently directed the old man to his seat, "At least you're unharmed."

He knelt down next to Firestarter and checked on her. Out cold. For now, at least. There was no point in putting her in restraints, as she'd probably burn through anything they had if she came to her senses, and moving her away from the passengers might wake her up. Someone had to keep an eye on her in case she started trouble again, and Aníbal figured he was the best choice. As Seahawk pressed on, he made his way forward as well, joining the rest of the team in front of the bulky cockpit door.

"Buen trabajo", he complimented Miracle Girl with a smile before turning to Seahawk.

"I think it's best if I stay here and make sure our flamboyant friend there doesn't cause anymore trouble. She's not going to be happy when she wakes up.", he told the team, keeping his voice low to prevent any passengers from eavesdropping. "You two can handle things in the cockpit, I assume? If you need any help, just call, OK?"

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Casey accepted the gratitude of the passengers as she gently disentangled herself from them and directed them back to their seats. "Thank you, but we're not out of the woods yet! Please stay in your seats and remain calm."

In response to Anibal's compliment, she flashed him a ten thousand watt smile and shrugged, looking impossibly girlish with those silly pigtails. "Da nada, señor!" But then she was back to all business as she followed Seahawk down the aisle to the cockpit door, where she held up her hand and whispered. 

"Wait; let me check for heat." She gave the door a quick IR once over.


Edited by Heritage
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Dr. Warfield just stared at the woman who had assaulted him in confusion and fear for a long moment before being broken from his reverie by El Huracan.  He blinked up at the hero as he spoke as if trying to place something and shook his head, "I know you did what you could."  he murmured face downturned, "Most of the research is held by Aegis already."  he said a bit sadly as he stared at the formerly flaming woman no more than three or four years older than Anibal himself, "Jenny..."  he murmured, "How did it come to this..."  he seemed a bit in shock at all the events but it seemed he knew his assailant or had known her at one point.  Warfield took his seat along with the other passengers then who looked nervously on as Miracle Girl and Seahawk examined the door and prepared to breach it.  To the chipper heroines enhanced senses there was no sign of anything unusual about the sturdy door.  It may be no simple thing to breach the cockpit but the heroes present seemed equal the task.

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