Chapter Four: The Red Skull Gang

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It was still chilly in the morning when the three planes took off for Hollywood, and all four of the airborne heroes were red-eyed and sleepy. They had stayed up all night last night, quarreling about the route to take. Dr Nooma tried to catch some sleep, but the enthusiastic fliers in her headphones made it impossible.

"There's nothing in Pennsylvania. We Jacks patrol the eastern part, and the West Penn Militia patrol the west, but that's a scruffy bunch of ruffians if I ever saw one! Exhorting the towns and industries they guard!"

Nooma could see Rex gesticulating in the Avenger's front seat, wild gestures that would have shocked her a few years back. But she was getting to know and like these Americans, and particularly the young pilots.

Diana's voice burst in on her thoughts through the headphones. "Seems they might have something to say to you about that; I see six birds at two o'clock, and I think they're Avengers."

"What're yer doin' in our skies, city boys? Why dont'cha stay downtown, where it's nice 'n easy, instead of mucking around our turf?"
  "We can't let scum like you wreak havoc in the skies unobserved. And who knows, you might just need our help if we encounter any Steel Skies militia." Rex added, shouting over his shoulder to Nooma "I've never actually seen any of those, but it should keep them calm."
  "Well, since you're militia and all, we can't just shoot you for flying without a permit. But we sure gonna keep an eye on you, and we'll stay above and in your six!"
  Nooma saw Rex swear and switch to a more private frequency. "Bastards! But there's nothing we can do about it. Lets hope they keep calm, but watch your six, ladies!"

A tense half-hour followed. The dirty blue Avengers hung on their tails, sickly shadows ready to attack any minute. Nooma took a photograph of one, just in case, but otherwise it was quiet, dead quiet, until they reached the border.

"Watch out, they're shifting formation. I wonder if those bastards intend to jump us by the border, claiming an interception?" Rebel actually seemed to relish the idea of an ambush.

"This is captain Kit Carlson of the Steel Skies militia. You are now approaching the ISA border; please stand by for clearance and escort.", a pert voice on the radio interrupted. The West Penn militia backed off, and soon the green checkered plains of Ohio replaced the green checkered plains of Pennsylvania, and the six blue Avengers were replaced by two steel gray Furies. Instructions from air traffic control gave them a new route, far from shipping lanes and cities, and the polite but firm escort ensured there was no deviation.

"Strict and efficient, these men of steel" Diana said wistfully on the radio, recalling an ISA recruitment poster slogan, "I absolutely prefer them to the East Penn".
  "Their best, our worst. You just can't compare that way" Rex muttered defensively.
  "Well, they do have German instructors." Nooma added, but nobody felt like saying any more, so they continued in silence

Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, all passed by like green quilts.

"Iowa is next, in the People's Collective. I wonder what the boys in the Dusters will be like?"
  "Diana, we only just left the steel boys, and you're looking for more?" Rebels disapproving words didn't match the mirth in her voice. Having left all valuable targets behind, their escort had left, so they could speak more freely.
  "Please pay attention, I think I saw something" Nooma strained to see through the glare of the evening sun. Definitely flashes from gunfire, and was that pillars of smoke on the far side of the Mississippi?

"All air traffic, this is Rockford traffic control. Unscheduled armed maneuvers near Clinton, Iowa. Avoid the area. I repeat…"
  "What does this mean?"
  "Nooma, you really are innocent in the ways of the crimson skies." Rex was reassuring rather than condescending. "It means there's an attack going on, but not a pirate attack, because then there would be a Mayday. Try to see if there's anyone else on the air".
  "Only static… wait, there's lot of signals here, but I can't understand what they're saying. They speak some strange language. Arabic?"
  "I know that from the Big Apple. It's Yiddish. Jews out west?"
  Noomas astonished reply was cut out by Rebel. "I have something, I think it's the Red Skulls. Nice bounty on them down south, after what they did in Missouri. Seems they're attacking an aerodrome, but they are getting cut to pieces! The're running away! Listen to channel D!"
  Right on cue, three red-painted planes appeared on the horizon, and Nooma switched channels.
   "…probably heard of me. I'm Harry Kenyon of the Red Skulls, called Lucky becase I am, and I'm in a real bad mood today. You bims better get out of my way, or I'm going to trounce you so hard your asses will smart for a week!"
  "Well, big boy, come and get it!" Rebel hurled her Fury right at them. Nooma was just about to protest as Diana and Rex came running after her, and soon machine-guns started spitting lead. No red glare of rockets in this one, only extended-range tanks for the flight from New York and bombs for whatever the Red Skull Legion had been attacking in Clinton. A quick semicircle in the sky, a rattle from Rebel's machingeguns, and one of the red planes fell from the sky, the parachute unfolding like a puff of white smoke. A tired voice cut in on the radio.

  "There goes Lucky. Fancy shooting, that one. Seems his luck ran out today. But then again, so it did for all of us. Damn, only two out of eight coming back, and I thought I had a way with the ladies! They ain't paying us enough for this! Nice to chat with you madam, but I've got to go. Hope you'll let a fellow loose when he want's to leave. Heartbreaker out."

The planes had passed each other. In the distance, planes from Steel Skies kept a watchful eye on the proceedings, not interfering, but making their presence known. Prudence won out and a kill had been scored, so it was agreed it was a good fight. Rebel's engine made strange noises and ominous pillars of black smoke still hung on the horizon.
  "Still that incomprehensible chatter on the radio" Nooma felt apprehensive as they crossed the border.

Suddenly, they found themselves outnumbered by a host of menacing, sky-blue planes with an unusual, six-pointed star emblem. You could see their guns were still warm from recent combat.