Chapter One: Disrupted Air Space
Somewhere in Eastern Europe
The thick, all-terrain tires of the Land Cruiser tore across the uneven terrain, the vehicle packed with danger and an intellectual.
Barsad moved the Land Cruiser towards a waiting EMB-110 South African plane with the stairs already deployed.
Dr. Pavel stoically sat shotgun.
In the backseat, the trio of hooded men were under guard from angry men with automatic firearms.
Bane's hooded, broad body pushed the other two men into the car's side panels, the rounded caps of his shoulders were cloaked in the snug fitting thermal long-sleeved shirt. The vascular striations of his muscular flesh was kept hidden under the smooth fabric.
Narrowly avoiding being crushed by the all-terrain tires, a beetle native to the area, clung to the green fronds of a mountain willow shrub, the reddish-brown legs of the beetle intertwining with the same shade of stems.
Barsad kept the accelerator of the Land Cruisier pressed to the floor as he approached the South African EMB-110.
Standing in front of the turboprop plane boasting a fifty-foot wingspan, stood a CIA agent with a crooked little finger on his left hand.
The horseshoe shape of Bane's triceps were visible, straining under the tight-fitting shirt sleeves as he allowed the heavily armed mercenaries to escort him to the turboprop plane.
Bane listened passively as Barsad added him to the CIA agent's flight manifest, the excitement in the CIA's agents voice was palpable, a schoolboy catching a glimpse of a pair of frilly, pink panties.
The smaller plane struggled to gain altitude; the engine was not designed for that kind of aeronautical work.
On board the doomed flight, the CIA agent's thoughts of a lucrative payday with the capture of the masked man were turned on their ear, he would never know the extent past the moment that Bane snapped his neck.
The plane was soon dwarfed by a dangerous shadow, a physical encroachment that disrupted the very airspace in the form of a C130 Lockheed Hercules, a transport plane with a 132-foot wingspan, when on the ground, it stood a proud 38 feet tall.
The smaller EMB-110 plane shuddered as it was taken over, the five-person flight crew of the massive transport plane expertly kept the large steel bird in the air as men were deployed on sturdy cables.
The turbulence and aviation trauma forced the smaller plane to begin to disarticulate, the wings shearing off.
In the cockpit of the resolute C130, the crew spoke to each other through closed, secure communications.
Their voices were distorted except for the deep tone of the co-pilot, Majesty Two.
His brother had been a pilot that Talia had recruited, flying under Majesty One.
His brother refused to follow one of Talia's orders. She'd wanted a village sprayed with white phosphorus.
Four hundred innocent people would've died, all for one man that had wronged Ra's al Ghul.
Bane had thrown Majesty One out of an airplane, without shooting him first.
Talia had then turned and asked if he would carry out the deadly mission that his brother had refused. He had nodded without hesitation and took up the helm as Majesty Two.
The navigator, Mosquito, read from a screen that had moving red and green characters, stating their position was holding.
The loadmaster Buddha was quiet during the operation, keeping their eyes on the flight engineer Angel who was staring at the steel floor of the cockpit, their eyes tracing around each sturdy rivet.
The pilot Rooster's biceps strained keeping the metal beast steady in the air, Rooster had flown in worse conditions but never took any time in the air for granted or treated it casually.
Rooster held the C130 Lockheed Hercules, one of 40 variants with a 42K pound payload steady as Bane and the rest of the tethered men returned on their sturdy cables.
The flight deck was open, a modification Talia insisted upon so that no member of a flight crew could lock themselves away and commandeer an aircraft with her upon it, Talia would be at the mercy of no one, cumulus clouds held fear for her and would turn solid to catch her if she ever fell.
Mosquito uttered a few harsh syllables in a close to dead language to indicate to Rooster and Majesty Two that the load was secure.
Majesty-Two and Rooster exchanged a few words as they banked sharply towards the isolated airstrip sandwiched between two mountain ranges with jagged peaks.
The C130 gracefully consumed air miles without incident until a rough patch of turbulence made everyone's heartbeats collectively increase, most clicking their lap restraints, then double-checking that they'd hold.
Bane glanced over at Dr. Pavel, not blinking as he watched the scientist close his eyes, drop his head, and begin to whisper a prayer.
Two of the younger mercenaries hooted and hollered, hoping their excessive sounds would conceal how close they were to shitting their pants as the large transport plane was tossed around in the air.
Hennessey and Jameson purposely kept their lap restraints unbuckled; all their bravado pinned on the flying prowess they knew that Rooster held.
Bane kept himself rigid in the seat, the turbulence didn't frighten him, his only discomfort were the spikes of pain that radiated throughout his body each time the plane was batted around in the sky.
Rooster and Majesty Two reacted and responded to the unseen atmospheric conditions that affected the massive cargo plane, their intent to prevent damage to the bulky frame.
Bane narrowed his eyes towards the front of the aircraft where Rooster spoke to Majesty Two and the rest of the flight crew through the encrypted communication system.
Eventually the turbulence subsided, the cataclysmic meeting of the warm and cold fronts calmed itself and allowed the cargo plane to continue unmolested through the air.
Rooster and Majesty Two would eventually land the heavy plane on the isolated airstrip nestled amongst the rugged landscape.
Once the nearly 98 foot, thick-bodied plane was on the poorly maintained runway, the bulk of the mercenaries spilled out as soon as the doors opened, the six-bladed propellers still loudly heralding with each powerful revolution.
Bane tugged Dr. Pavel roughly by the scientist's scrawny upper arm until their feet were on solid ground, delicate, white-petaled snowdrops were crushed under Bane's heavy boots.
The mercenaries talked amongst themselves as the propellers slowed and then grew still.
Bane watched the flight crew exit the formidable aircraft.
He released Dr. Pavel's arm and put another member of the League of Shadows in charge of keeping an eye on the scientist before he stomped closer to the nose of the plane, interested in the five people emerging from the cockpit, each in an identical slate-grey coverall and blacked out helmets.
Bane watched impassively as the navigator Mosquito yanked off his helmet, his cheekbones high, a port wine stain took up half of his face.
Majesty Two and Angel each tugged off their helmets, squinting at the brightness, their eyes taking a moment to adjust.
Angel's eyes were black as night, quickly hidden when he slipped on a set of sunglasses.
Majesty Two's were a startling shade of bright blue, he hid them just as swiftly with a set of identical sunglasses.
Buddha heavily took the stairs, the coverall strained as it stretched around his frame, pulling a pack of battered cigarettes from his pocket before endeavoring to coax a flame from his lighter with the high winds.
Bane paused when the last crew member exited the front of the cargo plane, a confidence in their footfalls as they pulled the helmet off their head.
A brilliant fall of mahogany brown hair came tumbling down as she pulled her helmet free.
Bane blinked once, hard, at the woman who was just a couple inches shorter than him as she spoke into a satellite phone.
Her eyebrows were full and her close-to grey eyes were surrounded with a thick fringe of lashes.
She ended the call and turned towards Bane, catching his unmoving bulk on her periphery.
A mercenary walked nearby and waved, "thanks for getting us back alive Rooster."
"Rooster?" Bane stated, his respiratory hissing, a mechanical lilt to his question.
"Yeah, I wanted to call attention to my big cock," she said as she pointed to the nose of the plane where a huge flaming rooster had been painted.
"Sofia Bishop," she added as she held out her hand towards him.