"Wow. This is it."

Chance stares at the visor side of the helmet in his hands before he turns it around and settles it on his head. It felt… right, more than right to be sitting in a cockpit again. He grins and glances into the mirror mounted on on his console to see Jake reflected in it, sitting back in the WSO seat.

His buddy's expression is studied as he buckles the straps. His helmet is already on and he tugs at the collar of his G suit.

"Got any ordnance loaded?" Chance asks, and Jake shakes his head.

"Nah. Took it off. Let's see how she handles first."

Chance nods as he pulls at his fingerless gloves.

"Though the cement machine gun is online," Jake clarifies.

"That thing?" Chance makes a depreciating noise. "How you think these things up, Jake, I am never gonna understand. Going down."

He hits a control and the turntable jerks a little, and both Kats look around nervously. It slowly lowers the to the next level and their expressions smooth into relief as it settles cleanly into the recess in the floor. Then panic ensues when it jumps up a half foot and slams down again.

"HOLY KATS!" Chance exclaims, eyes wide. "What was that?"

"Gonna have to fix -that- problem," Jake comments, making a face.

"Yeah partner, but not today!" Chance cracks his knuckles and reaches for the throttle. "This baby is gettin' her first flight! We ready?"

"I hope so," Razor says fervently.

"...What? You HOPE so?" Chance asks in surprise, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Chance, I have not prayed since I was a kitten on my grandpa's knee. I sure prayed last night."

"...Hmm…" Chance muses, drumming his fingers on the controls. He raises his hand and swiftly makes the sign of the cross.

Jake isn't even tempted to laugh. Though he does have to restrain himself from offering to buy his buddy a new bottle of holy water.

Chance looks a little embarrassed. "Well it can't hurt," he says defensively.

"Course not. Thanks, buddy," Jake replies. "Well… I have checked and double checked and recalculated and-"

"I rechecked everything you checked," Chance interrupts. "So. We going?"

"Yeah buddy! Let's HIT IT!" Jake shouts.

"Roooock and roll!" Chance roars, and he jams the throttle forward.

The boys both hoot and holler as the grey and tan jet starts to shoot down the runway - until a persistent beeping starts on the radar panel.

"What the… Chance! Brake! BRAKE!" Jake shouts, alarm in his voice.

"Wha?" Immediately the pilot cuts the thrusters and hits the speed break, glancing in the mirror. "What's wrong?"

"THE DOOR ISN'T OPENING!"

"Oh crud-" There is a resounding THUD as the nose of the jet impacts spectacularly with the door to the tunnel entrance..

"...Oh kats… my aching neck…" Chance grouses, lifting his head gingerly. He glowers at the tunnel walls sliding by slowly, as the jets rolling backwards and coming to a slow stop. "Jake. You alright back there buddy?" he asks, glancing in the mirror again.

Jake has his hands on his helmet, clamping the thing to his head. "Ugh…. Hell!" he growls and hops out stiffly once the canopy opened. Both toms stare at what they'd hit - the door to the tunnel exit, firmly closed, and now rather bowed outward.

"...Why didn't it open?" Chance asks, rubbing his neck as he climbs out to join Jake on the ground. "Didn't you check it?"

Jake starts, looking back at Chance wide eyed. "...I thought you were going to check it."

They both stare at the other a second then Jake sighs. "Guess we were both too obsessed with the jet… boy, she sure did turbo down the runway didn't she?" he says fondly, putting a hand on the fuselage. "Hey! That's what we'll call her!"

"What?" Chance asks, not nearly as pleased sounding. He was examining the crumpled nose cone and waving at his face trying to see through the exhaust.

"The Turbokat!"

"... The what?"

"Hey, it suits her! It's better than 'Callie'," Jake replies, at which Chance blushes.

"Calling her 'Callie' was just a joke!"

There is an uncomfortable silence before Jake shakes his head. "Whatever. Let's go get a tug so we can get this baby back inside the hangar and get the nose straightened out."

"Yeah," Chance sighs, turning to walk with Jake. "Guess our first flight won't be today."

"Guess not."

"Bummer."

"Mondo bummer."

"...This is gonna take hours…." Chance grumbles, as he's getting tools around.

Jake looks up from where he's leaning over a makeshift desk against the wall, with plans and blueprints. "Chance! I was thinking, buddy!"

"Yeah? What about?" He asks, distracted.

"Callsigns."

"Huh?" Chance blinks and looks up.

"We're going to need callsigns."

"What!?" Chance exclaims. "Enforcers don't use callsigns!"

"I know buddy but…. we're not Enforcers anymore," Jake says calmly. "Besides. We're gonna have to."

"...I guess so. Masks aren't gonna be enough if we're not using an alias," Chance replies.

"Yeah. So! What do you think they ought to be?" Jake asks, grabbing up a sheet of paper and a pen.

"...I don't know. It's just the two of us, so no call sign meeting. Remember when they did that in that movie? That one guy wound up being called Pizza Face," Chance makes his own face, particularly un-pizza-like.

"Remember that nickname your mom-"

"NO." Chance frowns, holding a buffer in one hand in a way that suggests he might throw it.

"Well it was just an idea."

Chance snaps his fingers. "Hotshot and Sureshot!"

Jake shakes his head. "That's not gonna work, others heard it too often."

"That's a problem…. uh, hey. What about our voices, Jake?" Chance asks suddenly. "Do you think guys from the wing will recognize us?"

"I don't know... " Jake says, uneasy. "Hope not. Memories fade right? It's been months."

"Yeah, guess so. Enough I hope." Chance sighs. "Or else our career is gonna be hecka short. You been thinking about colors?" Chance asks.

Jake flips up his goggles. "On the jet?"

"What else? I'm thinking contrast. Stark contrast to Enforcer grey and tan or blue, right?"

"...I kinda like blue myself," Jake admits.

"Okay, I'm not against blue…"

"Um, Chance?"

"Yeah?"

"Do we have any paint?"

"Yeah. Black undercoat. Tons of it."

"Sounds good to me?"

"It needs something though….." Chance muses. "I'm nearly done here. We can get the panels back on and then I can paint er' up."

Jake eyes him suspiciously. "What's the 'something' you think it needs."

"Well… something to draw the eye."

"Chaaaance…."

Chance glowers at him. "What? I'm not gonna paint a naked she-Kat on it, alright?"

Jake looks unconvinced of his truthfulness but shrugs. "Thank goodness for that."

Chance makes a rude noise as Jake comes over with the tools and they secure the panels back.

"She looks good, partner!" Jake says, and both stand back, admiring the jet. "I need to finish working on the ledgers and send out some bills. You need any help?"

Chance shakes his head. "Nah. I got everything set up for painting on the lower level. As long as the turntable doesn't have another seizure."

"Should be fixed."

"Uh huh, 'Should be'."

"Aw come on. It was kinda like a roller coaster."

"More like the death drop," Chance says with a grin as he engages the turntable and it lowers slowly into the ground.

"If you need something I'll be upstairs!" Jake shouts down the hole.

"Roger that!"

On the lower level there was plenty of room for Chance to have set up a makeshift paint booth with tarps and tape. He grabs a tug and moves the TurboKat in, and happens to glance up just as a glint of light reflects off the nose cone. "...Oooh. I got it!" he says, excitedly, and turns to the paint he'd put together. "...Let's see. Black, black, black black…. and one little can of red. Hm…."

"Alright. Trying this again." T-Bone says, glancing back. The Turbokat was a deep glossy black with three stripes of red like claw marks streaking down the nose. He'd even picked up some yellow and picked out details.

Razor nods, adjusting his helmet. "It's probably better we didn't go til the paint was done anyway. If we're gonna do this, we may as well show up dressed for the event."

T-Bone rolls his eyes. "There shouldn't be anybody out over the water this time of night. And if there is, I'll lose them," he says confidently.

"Alright pal but don't do nothing until we know the jet can handle it."

"You designed this baby, I got full confidence in you partner."

"WE designed this baby and I got full confidence you can fly her even if she wallows like a barge. And thanks, partner."

"Thanks to you! Now, lets HIT IT!"

Three engines roar to life.