The sky was torn apart by a black shadow, leaving a blazing trail in its wake. The plane looked like a piece of the night ripped from another world.
John sat at the controls, fueling the plane with his fire. He maintained a speed that would make ordinary people lose consciousness, but for him and his enhanced passengers, it was perfectly comfortable.
Jane sat in her seat, knees tucked up, reading a book.
Cain watched wrestling on TV, headphones on.
John enjoyed flying. He had finished pilot training long ago, but actual practice was rare.
[I'm the kind of person who always asks to take the wheel. The process calms me down and helps me gather my thoughts.]
The peaceful moment was interrupted by the nonstop chatter from air traffic control.
"Hey, guys, we've got company," John reported calmly, turning the yoke. "Looks like we're not on the VIP list."
Within a minute, the entire crew was in the cockpit.
"What happened?" Jane adjusted her lightning-bolt T-shirt. She was definitely into her new style.
"The moment we entered U.S. airspace, air traffic control started sending me signals, demanding some access codes," pilot explained. "I ignored them, but now they've run out of patience. Their last message said fighter jets are on their way. They'll be here in three minutes."
"That was expected," Jane folded her arms. "We're flying an unregistered plane. After 9/11, they monitor these things closely. It would've been safer if I had just teleported us with Mjolnir."
"No way!" John and Cain shouted in unison.
They bumped fists. Only lady in the room rolled her eyes.
"What I don't get," Jane continued, "is why they're only chasing us now. We flew through several other countries on our way from Peru to the U.S., and there were no issues."
"Because we're flying Don Pedro's private jet," John explained. "In most Latin American countries, he has a free pass. Even Colombian air traffic control wished me a good day. But in the U.S., no one gives a damn about Don Pedro."
"By tomorrow, no one will give a damn about Don Pedro anywhere," Cain shared his experience. He had changed clothes—now he was wearing a mafia-style suit and a fedora, which hid his helmet. Clearly, he hadn't liked the vibrator comparison. Also, he just liked the mafia look. "Some new dealer will take over his mansion and keep the business running. I see it happen all the time."
"Which proves that killing doesn't solve the problem!" justice incarnate exclaimed. "You have to rehabilitate people, not kill them!"
"And where's the fun in that?" giant frowned. "Boring!"
"Guys, I love that we're all so chill about fighter jets coming to blow us up," John interrupted the argument, checking his watch. "But just a reminder—they'll be here in a minute."
"So what?" Juggernaut opened a bag of chips. "Like some helmeted morons can damage a magic plane."
"I don't like the wording," Jane wrinkled her nose. "But I agree. I don't see any real danger here."
"I'm not dragging a bunch of missile-firing jets with us all the way to New York!" John snapped. "I called you here to explain the situation and warn you to fasten your seatbelts. I'm about to increase speed tenfold to shake them off."
"Nah, nah, pilot," giant placed a hand on the yoke. "We can run anytime. Give me one minute. It'll be fun, I promise!"
Cain swallowed the entire bag of chips in one go and headed to the back of the plane.
"I don't like this," Jane shook her head. "He's about to create chaos again."
"Agreed," John nodded. "But he promised not to kill."
[All the killing is on me. I need to feed Zarathos' fire.]
"Aren't you even a little curious about what kind of dumb stunt he's gonna pull?" John smirked. "Besides, he's right. I can always run if I need to."
A deep rumble echoed in the distance. John glanced at the radar—two fighter jets had locked onto the black plane.
"Begin immediate descent," a soldier ordered over the radio. "You have thirty seconds, or we will open fire."
"Go fuck yourself!" Juggernaut roared from the open plane door and hurled a chair.
In his hands, an ordinary chair hit like a missile. The fighter jet exploded.
"I told you!" Jane hissed, conjuring a gust of wind to gently catch the ejected pilot and carry him safely to the ground.
The second jet fired a missile. Cain slammed the door shut. The explosion didn't even scratch the paint on their enchanted plane.
"I'll shove that missile right up your ass!" Juggernaut bellowed through the newly opened door and clapped his hands.
The shockwave obliterated the second jet. Jane once again caught the pilot with the wind and sent him down safely.
[I'm gonna starve at this rate. No fair!]
"Man, I love breaking military hardware," Cain grinned as he returned to the cockpit. "Reminds me of that time in Thailand when I fought their army for a week, wrecked all their tanks. Then the president showed up and offered me cash to leave. Hilarious."
"That was reckless!" Thunderheart exclaimed. "Those pilots could've been seriously hurt!"
"But they weren't," giant waved her off. "Kinda sad it's over, though. I rarely get to wreck planes—they always fly away."
"Well, the gods have answered your prayers," John pointed out the window.
Outside, clad in gleaming armor, Iron Man flew alongside them.
The crew exchanged glances. Tony waved at them through the glass and gestured toward the radio.
"Alright," John picked up the radio and looked at his teammates. "Anyone wanna chat with clown?"
"The only clown is in your pants," came the unmistakable voice of a certain showman from the speakers.
"I didn't even turn on the radio," John frowned. "How the hell can you hear us?"
"I hacked your entire plane's system," tech genius replied nonchalantly. "For me, it was as easy as—"
Ghost Rider didn't wait for the flex. He crushed the autopilot computer with one hand.
"Like to fly manual?" Tony's voice dripped with amusement. "I get it."
"You here just to show off?" John glanced out the window, trying to lock onto Stark for a Penance Stare, but Tony had already dipped under the plane. "What do you want?"
"Before you smashed the autopilot, I was gonna land you at my villa. I got music, booze, girls—"
"Fuck yeah!" Cain grinned wide. "Turn this baby around!"
"Can you be serious for once?!" Jane hissed. Ever since the superhero showed up, she'd looked tense. "We have a plan!"
"What plan?" Tony asked. "Maybe I can help?"
"Cut the nice-guy act!" John barked, turning to the team. "The tin-plated asshole is stalling. A plane full of superheroes is inbound. Full package—Captain America, Scarlet Witch, Ant-Man, and ten more capes."
"That's an Avengers unit," Jane went pale. "They don't just hunt criminals. They go after planetary threats."
"Sweet!" Cain cracked his knuckles with a grin. "Been a while since I kicked some superhero ass."
Ghost Rider yanked the controls hard, narrowly avoiding a collision.
Iron Man followed close behind.
"How the hell did you do that?" Tony's voice carried a hint of irritation. "My jet uses top-tier stealth tech... Oh, I get it. Magic. Magic is cheating."
"What do you want from us?" John asked.
"You're harboring an internationally wanted supervillain—Juggernaut," Tony said bluntly. "And after attacking the U.S. military, you're all officially labeled as terrorists."
"I told you we shouldn't have blown up those jets!" Jane exclaimed.
"But the pilots survived," Cain scratched his arm. "No one got hurt."
"No one except the budget," John remarked coolly. "One fighter jet costs a million dollars. Uncle Sam's pissed."
"Smart observation," Iron Man chuckled. "Ghost Rider—or Jonathan Blaze. Not bad for a carnie's son. SHIELD needs to update your profile. And don't be surprised I know your name and history. We've been watching you for a while."
"Oh no!" Cain mock-squealed, pressing his palms to his cheeks. "The shawarma salesman knows our names! How terrifying!"
/////
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