Back at the Parr house, Harlan was preparing to take a trip.
"There's lots of leftovers you can reheat," he told V. "Make sure Ash does her homework and both of you get to bed on time. I should be back tonight, late. You can be in charge that long, can't you?" Harlan asked.
"Yeah… but why am I in charge again?" V asked.
"Nothing. Just a little trouble with Mommy."
"You mean Mom's in trouble? Or Mom is the trouble?" V asked Harlan.
"I mean either she's in trouble… or she's going to be," said Harlan darkly as he walked into his bedroom.
Harlan took a small duffel bag from the closet. He packed a few things and then held up his Super suit. He took a deep breath and stuffed the suit into her bag.
Ash did a double take as she passed his door. "Hey, what's that?" she asked, seeing the red suit. "Where'd you get that, Dad?"
Harlan stretched his arm to the door and closed it. Ash ran and immediately appeared outside the window. She looked at the matching red suits laid out on the bed.
"Hey, are those for us? Do we all get cool outfits?" she asked, intrigued.
Harlan took his hand off the door and stretched it to shut the blinds. Ash zoomed back through the door, nabbed her Super suit, and was gone.
"Wait a – Ash! You come back this moment, young lady!" Harlan yelled as the phone rang.
It was his old friend Cozy, the owner and pilot of some of the fastest jet planes ever to fly. Harlan knew Cozy from the old days.
"Hey, Cozy! Thanks for getting back. Listen, I know this is short notice, but I'm calling in a solid you owe me," Harlan said into the phone.
"Whaddya need?" Cozy asked.
"A jet," Harlan said calmly. "What can you get that's fast?"
"Let me think," said Cozy.
Vincent walked into his dad's bedroom.
"What are these?" he asked, staring at the red suits on the bed.
Suddenly, Ash appeared.
"Hey, look!" she said proudly, wearing his Super suit and smiling at herself in the mirror. "I'm 'The Ash'!"
"Just a moment," Harlan said to Cozy, and placed his hand over the mouthpiece. "Take that off, before somebody sees you," he ordered.
"But you're packing one just like it," V said, pointing to the red suit in Harlan's bag. "Are you hiding something?"
"Please, I'm on the phone," Harlan said sternly.
Ash picked up V's suit and handed it to him. "This is yours!" she told him. "It's specially made."
"What's going on?" Vincent asked, dropping his shoulders and turning to his dad. Harlan pushed them both into the hall and closed the door.
V was still holding his Super suit. "What makes you think it's special?" he asked Ash as they stood in the hall.
Ash shrugged. "I don't know. Why'd Dad try to hide it?" she replied matter-of-factly before running off.
V looked down at his suit and wondered. Then, making his hand invisible, he touched a finger to it. The suit disappeared in his hand.
"Whoa," said V.
It had been a long time since Harlan had flown a jet – but it all came back to him quickly. "Island approach, India Golf Niner Niner checking in, VFR on top. Over," he said into her headset. He had tracked Bobbie through the homing device to the small volcanic island below, but the landing tower didn't answer.
Harlan tried again. "Island tower. This is India, Golf, Niner, Niner requesting vectors!" Still no one responded.
Harlan began to grow uneasy. "Calm down," he told herself. "You're overreacting. Everything's fine." But the feeling did not go away. Five minutes later, he put the jet on autopilot and grabbed his Super suit.
As Harlan flew toward the island of Nomanisan, Mrs. Incredible awoke and found herself in Syndrome's prison chamber, her arms and legs bound by metal restraints that held her suspended by Syndrome's immobi-ray technology. Syndrome stood triumphant over her captured hero.
"You, ma'am, truly are Mrs. Incredible," Syndrome said enthusiastically. "You know, I was right to idolize you. I always knew you were tough. But tricking the probe by hiding under the bones of another Super? WOW! I'm still geeking out about it!"
But then Syndrome's face suddenly soured. "Then you had to go and just – ruin the ride." She shook her head. "I mean, Mrs. Incredible calling for help? 'Help me!' Lame, lame, lame, lame, lame! Who did you contact?"
"Contact? What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Incredible, not knowing what she was talking about.
With a nod from Syndrome, Specter sent a jolt of electricity into Mrs. Incredible's chest. She winced in pain.
"I'm referring to last night at 2307 hours, while you were snooping around, you sent out a homing signal," Syndrome said impatiently, and jolted Mrs. Incredible again.
"But I didn't – !" said Mrs. Incredible painfully.
"And now a government plane is requesting permission to land here! Who did you contact?" Syndrome demanded in a rage.
"I didn't send for… a plane." Mrs. Incredible grimaced.
"Play the transmission," said Syndrome to Specter.
"Island approach, India Golf Niner Niner checking in, VFR on top."
Mrs. Incredible's head snapped up. "Harlan?" he whispered.
"So you do know these people," Syndrome said, smiling maliciously. "Well then, I'll send them a little greeting." She pressed LAUNCH on the console and began to laugh.
"No!" shouted Mrs. Incredible, but she was helpless.