GUN-Hunters had to be compacted to fit the transport helicopter, and so human guards did the work of monitoring Rouge during the flight. Two helmeted soldiers at her sides pressed her for movement and a third leaned on the opposite wall, staring at her with cold focus. Probably trying to picture her naked.
The ex-spy conceded that she had that magazine pin-up allure, especially now that her handcuffs were looped around a bracket in the wall and she hung off her arms in a position of helpless girlieness. She glanced up to inspect her shackles – attached to her ankle-cuffs by a long chain – and the movement did not go unnoticed.
"Sit still, bat. You're not going anywhere."
"It's awful tight," she pouted, wriggling and brushing up against the guard to her right. "Maybe you could loosen it just an itty-little bit? I promise I'll be good…"
A rifle butt flashed across the air and ribbed her below the knee. She winced.
"Don't move," the dark soldier on her left commanded. Rouge tagged him as the hard-ass. He was a skinny jerk with pale skin and scraggly black hair. Sunglasses several sizes too large amplified his scowl.
She took a hard look at her other guards. The one across the hold had a hawkish nose, slicked red hair and a laid-back, cool look. To her left… ugh: A sallow-faced pug with a droopy jaw and beady, little eyes. Over his stubby nose was a poorly concealed band-aid.
She panned over the goons from her left to right. "Are all the infantry as ugly as you boys, or did I just get the Reject Squad?"
The skinny thug on her left jabbed her ribs this time. "Shut up, murderer!"
The red-haired soldier across from the tension stirred. "Hey, lag off. It's a good hour to the base – s'not like we can't have any fun."
He turned his focus to the tied-up female. "I'd betcha you'd really like to get out of those cuffs, wouldn't cha?" He sniggered and fished something out of a vest pocket. A silver key chain spun around his finger. "Wouldn't ya, bat-girl?"
The keys dangled in her face from the tip of his fingernail. The bat's eyes flickered and she leaned forward, pulling taut on her chains and straining her mouth to grab.
The hand flicked away. "Whoop! Not fast enough, doll-face." The guards at her side joined in the snickering.
He offered the keys again, hanging them off the butt of his assault rifle. Rouge played their game, moaning and snapping at the keys while the flyboys got their giggles. She wrapped her hands around her chains and pulled them tight…
The rifle zipped forward again, jangling the key ring. "C'mon little batty; get the keys. Come on, come on girl!"
Rouge flashed her legs out and snapped the rifle up in a scissor pinch. Out it flew from Red-Hair's grip. She swung her feet and the gun slapped him across the face.
The others freaked. "What the…"
Her flexible limbs whipped from side to side, slamming the remaining goons with the rifle. While they cried out and covered their faces, Rouge got to her feet.
Hawk-Nose was rising as well. Rouge pulled on her chains for support and swung from the wall, connected her legs with his body, and then a second time. For the boys on her side she leaped and went to a mid-air split, snapping her ankle-bracelets and slamming their stomachs with steel boots.
And all while shackled to the wall. Speaking of which, Rouge planted a high-heel into the wall and used the leverage to yank her chains free. She kicked Sunglasses again before tearing off the linking rings that had coupled her ankles cuffs to her wrists.
"Bloody bat…" Pug-face was up and throwing punches. She blocked his left fist, his right fist. She caught his third try in her handcuffs and wrapped the chains to trap his wrist. Rouge pulled him down into a headbutt. He staggered away, clutching his forehead.
Red-Hair and Sunglasses attacked together. The skinny one swung a wide punch that she ducked and countered with a double-fisted uppercut. Red-Hair tried a karate-chop that she nabbed on the fly. Over her shoulder he went, crashing into the ground.
Rouge strolled over his body, planted a boot on his chest and removed the key-chain from his possession. "Awful sweet of you. This'll save my nails some wear-n-tear."
Someone was running at her back, so Rouge spun and delivered a roundhouse kick. Pug-Face went flying and smashed into Sunglasses. That gave her time enough to unlock her handcuffs.
Rouge jumped and flapped her way to the other side of the hold, flinging her manacles to the floor. The trio of goons had just staggered to their feet and was following the sliding handcuffs with more than a little apprehension. Their eyes zoomed back to the prisoner, now assuming a defensive stance. Rouge bared her fangs.
"Okay boys, let's have some real fun."
The hawk-faced leader pulled out a knife. Sunglasses snatched the chains Rouge had dropped and gave them a twirl. Dog-Face picked out a wrench from a toolbox and tapped it eagerly in his palm. Red-Hair squeezed his blade and snarled.
"Hurt her."
They charged. Rouge snarled and jumped into the action with a flying kick. A frenzied dance of slashing and parrying jumped across the cargo bay. The guards had her surrounded, but Rouge had just enough time to belt one before the next attacked – jerking back from a knife, ducking the swing of a wrench, snatching a whip 'round her wrist and pulling the user into boot range. She delivered her counter-attack, whipping the bad boys with her steel boots.
Three stooges crumpled in a pile. Rouge clicked her heels on the floor and thrust her hands in air to receive her applause.
The cabin door had swung open on creaky hinges. The pilot and co-pilot looked back on the display with wide eyes.
Rouge slinked over to the cargo bay doors, waved goodbye to her sparring buddies and pulled the handlebar. Wind rushed at her face, blowing back her ears. Rouge ducked her face, shielding her already watery eyes and noticed the staring pilots, so she flashed her two fingers in a V-symbol at the cabin.
"Thanks for the lift, fly-boys, but next time I expect first-class!"
And like an Olympic swimmer leaping into a swimming pool, Rouge the Bat dived out the helicopter and plummeted through the dark sky. Her body corkscrewed into the night and near vanished, when two black, scaly wings snapped to full length and caught her descent like a parachute. The nocturnal queen glided out of range before either pilot could even think to send the Hoverpods.
The pilot and his navigator detached themselves from the windows and slumped back in their seats, as if in a daze. They did not wake until the automatic doors rolled shut and sealed with a jarring click.
They looked at each other.
"I'm flying the plane," the pilot pointed out.
The co-pilot gave a conceding nod and reached for the radio transmitter on his headset. Headquarters acknowledged transmission. The soldier chewed his lips a minute, trying to decide what to say. He finally squeezed his knuckles white and gave his best improvisation.
"This is Sigma-Alpha-2 reporting … Uhh, Sir, it … It happened again."