It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining warmly in a robin's egg sky dotted with white cumulus clouds. Far below them, the calm ocean waves reflected the sun's rays, sparkling brilliantly in the noonday light.
The pleasant scenery didn't soothe Flight 220's pilot, though. Neither did the fighters flying alongside the trimotor. It wasn't that he wasn't used to transporting valuable cargo. Shere Khan was constantly acquiring and selling expensive, exotic, or "sensitive" items that often needed to be flown great distances to their new owners, and Jerome had been flying for Khan Industries for years. No, flying valuable cargo wasn't his problem. Flying cargo so valuable Mr. Khan sent a five-fighter escort, that was his problem.
"Jerry?.....Hey, Jerry!” the sound of his copilot's voice drew his attention from the skies outside back into the cockpit. "Man, you've got to relax!"
"I'm trying to, Ty. It's just that I'm-"
" -worried about pirates?" Tyler finished for him. "Don't be. That's what our friends out there are for," he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the nearest fighter. Its alert panther pilot noticed the motion, and cut in over the radio.
"All clear out here, ace. Not a plane for miles. And there's been no pirate activity along this route for months."
"Besides," his wingman continued, "the Iron Vulture was spotted this morning off the coast of Cape Grenada. There's no way Karnage could make it back here until long after we're gone."
"Yeah, unless they've souped up those engines again," Jerome muttered to himself. A few months ago, Karnage had set the air freight industry on its ear by capturing the Avatar Lightning, a prototype that had been dubbed a harbinger of the "next generation of aircraft" for its speed, operating ceiling, and barrage of new instrumental gadgets that determined everything from the distance of the nearest aircraft to the outside air temperature. Designed to fly high and fast enough to put it well out of harm's way, its creators had suffered severe criticism when a descending Vulture "swallowed" the Lightning from behind.
"Even if they have," his copilot countered, "with a sky as clear as this one, we'll have plenty of time to spot the Iron Vulture and radio for help."
"I suppose you're right," Jerome conceded, "Still, I'd rather be flying some less-attractive cargo." The problem with foreign investors, he thought to himself, was that they sometimes insisted on paying in cash. Flight 220 was carrying a few hundred pounds of gold bullion - payment for some rare artifacts recently purchased from the exotic city of Pango-Pango.
No one denied that such a shipment would attract the attention of air pirates; their trimotor had received an extra layer of shielding, a five-fighter Khan escort for the duration of the flight, and a military escort that would join them once they entered Pango-Pango airspace. Several decoys, carrying smaller amounts of the payment, had also been deployed along different routes, with similar escorts accompanying them. In fact, so far things were looking quite well - Karnage had taken the bait and raided the decoy flying the Grenada route earlier that morning. Half an ocean away, the odds of the pirate captain discovering the identity and route of their flight in time to catch them were infinitesimally small. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try to anyway....
****************************
Aboard the Iron Vulture, Don Karnage paced impatiently. He was still furious with himself for falling for a decoy convoy that morning. They had gotten the flight's information from a reliable enough source, who evidently had also been fooled by the full escort and zigzag flight plan. The dawn raid had gone beautifully, with hardly any screw-ups by his men, and they had even been able to capture one of Shere Khan's pretty new fighter planes.
BUT they had not gotten the gold. The flight had been carrying a mere hundred pounds of silver, nothing in comparison to the amount of gold he knew was out there, being shipped to some fat corporate-type businessman in Pango-Pango.
He stopped pacing, drawing his sword and examining its blade. The crew of the decoy flight had not been very forthcoming with the identity of the real flight. It had taken quite a bit of "persuasion" to obtain the information he needed. He paused, gazing out the large porthole at the front of the Vulture, wondering yet again if one of the reasons the captured pilots had not wanted to tell him the flight's information was because of its distance away from Cape Grenada. Yes, it probably was.
He began pacing again. He did not like this waiting. There was unsuspecting treasure out there, just waiting for him to plunder it. And yet it was hours away! Even with her engines on full, the Vulture would still lag behind the convoy. He would need to deploy his fighters far from the convoy, he realized. They were faster than his precious ship, and could catch the convoy --if they had enough fuel to reach it.
That was a problem. The Iron Vulture's fuel reserves were high, of course, so that was no worry. But she wasn't fast enough to catch the convoy. The fighters were fast enough to easily catch the convoy, but they could not carry nearly enough fuel to reach the convoy, engage the escorting fighters, pillage the cargo, and return to the Vulture. So he needed to wait until the Vulture drew closer to the convoy. He swished his tail, annoyed. The Prince of Pirates did not like to wait.
****************************
"There they are!" Scattercat cried, banking her Tigercat fighter sharply to the right. Several miles ahead to the east, flying under the cover of some low clouds, was the convoy she'd been searching for. "C'mon, guys! Let's get 'em!"
"Scat! That's not our convoy! Sal said to leave them alone!" Dixie shouted after her wingman, "We're supposed to go after the Conwing off to the west!"
"C'mon, Dixie! All that bird is carryin' is some old paintings! Khan's convoy is carryin' gold!"
"But..."
"Besides, I don't see the Iron Vulture anywhere, and they're the only reason Sal's hesitatin' on hittin' Khan's flight!" Scat shouted as she put her plane into a dive, "Isn't that right, Ears?"
40,000 feet up and a mile behind the two fighters, Ears' long, sensitive ears twitched slightly at Scat's transmission. Sprawled out across the Albatross' copilot seat, the rabbit slowly opened one eye, glancing at the recon plane's radar screen. "Right," she yawned sleepily, wondering what it was the feline had wanted as she drifted back to sleep...
****************************
The Conwing was slow, weighed down by her cargo of artwork. Not too bad, Sal thought to herself. Sack the plane, sell the paintings on the black market, get some cash. It was amazing how low some art collectors were willing to stoop to add costly pieces to their collections for a fraction of the market price. Granted, the canvases wouldn't fetch nearly as much money as the Khan trimotor a few miles to the east was carrying - even if they managed to get the Conwing's entire haul to port without damaging any of the paintings, which was rather unlikely, given her crew. But sacking the Conwing wouldn't attract the attention of the Iron Vulture, either. Karnage would be so busy with Khan's plane, he wouldn't even notice them.
Karnage had to be after that shipment, she reasoned. And the pirate captain was known to hunt down smaller groups of air pirates operating near the Vulture - he didn't appreciate the competition, much less the encroachment into what he felt was his domain. The Tigercats were one such group, and as the leader of this small, rag-tag band of air pirates, Sal felt it was her responsibility to keep her pilots out of that danger. Half a dozen pirates in rusty, jury-rigged Tigercat fighters were no match for the fleets of CT-37 fighters protected by the Iron Vulture. Their safety lay only in the fact that they had escaped Karnage's notice so far.
"Okay, Patch, Meg," she called to her wingmen, "We attack from above and the sides, on my mark. Dixie, Scat," she radioed to the two pilots flying Point, "you two cut them off and attack from the front--" She trailed off, realizing for the first time half her fighters were not where they should be. She searched the skies around her, catching a glimpse of a Tigercat diving eastward, followed seconds later by a second, identical fighter.
-Sh**!- she thought angrily, realizing whatt lay to the east. She's going after Khan's plane!
****************************
Jerome was finally starting to relax when he heard the high-pitched whine of a diving plane. He'd been in enough raids to know a pirate attack when he heard one, and banked the trimotor hard to the right as the first stream of bullets hit the tail of the plane, cutting the maneuverability of the aircraft.
-I knew it! I knew they woulld come after us!- he thought to himself, reaching for the radio.
"Breaker, breaker!" Tyler yelled into the radio, as their escort wheeled to face their attackers, "This is Khan Industries Flight 22--" Tyler's transmission was abruptly cut off as a second stream of bullets hit the plane, these from the front of the aircraft. Bullets rained in through the windshield and bored into the console, tearing through the radio transmitter and cutting off communications.
****************************
-Got it!- Dixie grinned triumphantly, pulliing her fighter out of its head-on attack dive and banking around to face the Khan fighter nearest her. Now that the cargo plane couldn't radio for help, all they needed to do was keep Khan's fighters too busy for them to do so. She hoped the others had realized what she and Scat were doing - and, more importantly, that they were coming to help them. Khan's shiny new fighters were far superior to their old Tigercats, and their pilots were better trained. Dixie was a clever pilot, confident she and Scat could take out the fighters. But it would be far easier if the others helped, just so they didn't lose the cargo plane during the dogfight.
****************************
The panther pilots scattered as the gunfire broke out. They'd had no indications of air pirates -- the Iron Vulture was nowhere to be seen in the thin clouds, and the radio waves had been quiet on all frequencies pirates were thought to use. As they regrouped and joined the fight, they caught their first sight of their attackers - not the swarm of CT-37's they'd expected to see, but a pair of older, single-winged fighters, attacking from opposite directions!
Somewhat relieved that they were under attack by not Karnage, but a rag-tag duo of feline femmes, the panthers split into two groups - each with his own wingman, with one remaining to guard the trimotor - and returned fire.
****************************
Bullets grazed the side of Scattercat's plane, chipping the windshield and scraping off much of what remained of her fighter's paint job.
They were behind her! Casting a glance behind, she banked hard left, kicking her foot pedals to left full rudder and angling the plane's nose downward, "sliding" in the air for a moment before jerking the nose back up and allowing physics to enable her to resume flying again. For her pains of pulling several G's in that slip-slide maneuver, she had effectively reduced her turning radius to a single wingspan, and she watched as the Khan pilots streaked past her. She swung around behind her pursuers - who chose to turn using more conventional methods - and fired another round, riddling both planes with bullets and hitting one's fuel line. The damaged fighter wavered in the air as its engine sputtered and coughed from the interrupted flow of fuel, its propeller slowing as smoke spewed from its cylinder compartment.
-Must've hit an oil line, too- she noted, aas the pilot jumped from his fighter an instant before it burst into flames. His wingman fared better, sporting only a frayed tail fin. As he circled left to get behind her, she dove left, then pulled her Tigercat into a sharp climb.
As her engine strained and her plane began to stall, she caught sight of Dixie swooping down onto one of the Khan fighters, crushing its vertical tail fin and splintering its propeller with her fighter's pontoon. Disentangling her aircraft from the crippled fighter, Dixie turned toward Scat's surviving pursuer. Jerking her stalling plane into a hammerhead turn, Scat barrel-rolled and leveled out behind the Khan fighter on Dixie's six.
As she did so, bullets ricocheted off her tail fin: the fifth fighter, seeing his comrades' need of assistance, was joining the fight. Scat shot a furtive glance behind her - he was gaining on her fast.
"If I were you, Scattercat, I'd be more worried about me than about him!" Sal's voice rang over the radio as another Tigercat screamed down into the fray, showering the Khan fighter's side with such a barrage of bullets that he quickly dove to his right.
"Hey, Sal! Glad you decided to join us!" Scat bantered lightheartedly to her leader, ignoring the threat, "As you can see, we're the only pirates here for miles!" She reminded the group, relegating her spot in the fight to Patch and diving with Meg after the retreating cargo plane.
"Careful, Scat, Sal's pretty pissed at you this time," Meg chided her, "better tread carefully..."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've got just the attitude adjuster for her: a couple dozen bars of G-O-L-D!" Scat circled around the trimotor, attacking head-on and preparing to land.
****************************
"Sh**! Whoever these guys are, they're good!" Jerome yelled, vainly trying to dodge the oncoming fighter.
"Look out!" Tyler yelled, as sparks danced across the console. "They're aiming for the central engine!" He realized.
Bullets tore into the nose of the aircraft, and above the roar of gunfire, the two panthers heard the central engine sputter, then quit. Seconds later, as the slowing central propeller rotated slowly in the wind, the attacking fighter banked sharply and struck the cockpit windshield, shattering it with a battered pontoon and sending the two Khan flyers and thousands of shards of glass sprawling backwards from the impact. They hit the back of the cabin hard. Jerome slouched to the floor, unconscious; Tyler groaned, propping himself up by his elbows, rubbing the back of his throbbing head and wincing in pain. There was a loud thump on the roof of the aircraft, followed by the screech of metal-on-metal.
Moments later, a tan cat swung in through the shattered windshield. Of average height and slim build, she sported short, uneven magenta-tipped bangs, and was clad in torn denim pants and a sleeveless shirt that stated, quite accurately, what she was: "Trouble."
She strode confidently to where he had landed, (Air Pirates are all so damn cocky, he thought to himself) put out a paw, and said, simply, "Keys." Still rubbing his aching neck, he looked up at her with a questioning look on his face, raising an eyebrow.
"Give me the keys to the cargo hold," she repeated, narrowing her eyes and indicating the door separating the cabin from the cargo area, "and you've a chance of getting out of this alive."
Sighing, Tyler handed her the keys, silently cursing himself for giving up so easily. -But what else could I do?- he asked himself. -She could just as easily have taken them from my corpse.-
The cabin door opened with a click, allowing her entry into the cargo hold. "Wow," she breathed, looking about her with awe, "It's a flying Fort Knox!"
A second thump and screech echoed from the roof, and a Siamese cat came through the shattered windshield. She approached the first pirate and the cargo bay, but let out a yowl and jumped aside as bullets tore through the side of the craft.
"Air Pirates!" She yelped, oblivious to Tyler's smirk. -Wonder if she realizes the irony of this situation- he wondered, as she ran into the cargo hold, only to be met halfway by the first pirate and handed an armload of bullion. "Scat, come on! Those weren't our guns - we couldn't pierce their armor! We've got to get out of here!" she yelled over her shoulder after the tan cat as she ran back to the roof - to her plane.
****************************
Aboard the Albatross, Ears was suddenly jarred awake as a siren wailed. Jerking forward at the sound, she glanced frantically around before realizing the sound came from the radar screen. Staring down at it, she soon saw what had triggered the alarm -- a large radar signature five miles southeast of their current position. She didn't bother checking flight plans for possible transport aircraft that could correspond with the blip; she could identify it without them. The only aircraft she could name with a radar signature that large was the absolute last one she wanted to see.
She shot a furtive glance to the black cat in the pilot's seat. "You really are bad luck, Hazel!" she hissed.
"I wouldn't worry about the Vulture right now," her pilot responded, "There's a swarm of planes a lot closer to Sal!"
Ears drew in a sharp breath as a second glance at the radar screen confirmed this observation. "Why didn't you wake me?!" she yelled, "We've got to warn Sal!"
"Can't. They're still out of range," Hazel replied. Ears blinked at her for a minute, growing aware of the sound the engines were making. The high-pitched whine told her they were at full throttle. "And no, we can't go any faster."
"They'll be ambushed!"
****************************
Karnage could tell something was not quite right as he and his fellow pirates drew closer to the convoy. Khan's men were not responding to his taunts at all - they weren't even calling for help! As the CT's got into attack formation and emerged from behind a patch of clouds, the pirate captain realized just why they were not responding. They were already under attack!
-Who Dares?!- he growled to himself.. "Attack!" he snarled, leading the dive, "And be shooting those annoying little interfering-types also!"
****************************
"Sh**!" Sal yelped, whirling around as a formation of CT-37's dove at her fighter, "I knew something like this was gonna happen! Scat!" she yelled into her radio, "Get your tail outta there! We've got trouble!"
****************************
"C'mon, Scat!" Meg yelled from the roof of the trimotor, "Hurry up! Those CT's'll tear us to pieces!" she added, depositing her armload of booty into a compartment in her fighter before jumping in and revving up its engine.
"I'm coming! Just clear me a runway!" came the response, as Scat bolted back into the cargo bay. *I didn't come this far to go back empty-handed!* she thought to herself, grabbing another armload of bars. Running back to the cockpit, she tossed the panther on the floor the keys to the bay.
"You might want to bail out now, boy-o!" She yelled over her shoulder to him, "Karny's gonna be in rare form, I'll bet!" She paused on the console as Meg's Tigercat bounded down the roof, bounced once when a pontoon hit the nose, and plummeted downward a few seconds until the fighter had gained enough speed to begin flying. She smiled defeatedly, knowing her own take-off would look just as haphazard, and climbed out onto the nose and then the roof of the trimotor. Running to her fighter, she tossed the bullion in and gunned the engine, turning her plane into the wind and releasing the brakes.
****************************
Tyler just sat back in amazement for a moment. So they weren't Karnage's pirates! he mused. Then he realized why they had retreated so quickly. He couldn't see any of Khan's fighters anymore, but he could make out a few of the single-winged fighters among the dozens of CT-37's. And it was then, as he realized just how many of the bi-winged pirate fighters were outside, that the tan cat's parting words began to make sense. If the amount of gunfire outside was any indication, the "Prince of Pirates" was not in a good mood...
He debated attempting evasive maneuvers for a few moments, then decided against it. We're too damaged, he told himself, and besides, there's two sets of pirates out there with itchy trigger-fingers! He jumped to his feet and shook Jerome lightly. "Jer! Wake up, man, we've gotta bail out!" he yelled, shaking the pilot a little more strongly. Jerome groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he regained consciousness.
Tyler grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him to his feet, half-dragging his groggy fellow-aviator to the door at the side of the cockpit. Strapping on their parachutes and grabbing an inflatable raft, the two opened the door and leapt out. Deploying their chutes after the standard delay period for their estimated altitude, they drifted slowly toward the ocean surface, spotting several other life rafts - those of the surviving Khan pilots, presumably - on their way down.
****************************
The Tigercats were scattered all over the sky -- none knew where their fellow pirate-sisters were. Each was too busy trying to shake the CT-37's off their tail.
"Sal!" Ears' voice cried frantically over the radio, "The Iron Vulture's headed straight for you!"
"Tell me something I don't know, Ears!" Sal yelled back, "Tigercats! Time to go! Regroup at 27!" she instructed, referring to one of several set checkpoints they'd marked for regrouping in the event they became separated during a raid.
"Roger that!" came a chorus of voices, as her pilots began breaking away from their pursuers.
****************************
Scat banked her fighter sharply to the left, sliding into a nosedive and faking a tailspin to fool her pursuers into thinking she was going down. She allowed the plane to plummet for a while, then pulled out of the spin and ducked into some of the same low clouds the convoy had originally been flying in. She checked behind her: no, no one had followed her. She set in the coordinates for Checkpoint 27.
Meg pulled her fighter into a backwards-loop, rolling her plane upright again halfway through and performing a reverse Immelman. Now heading straight for her pirate attackers, she fired - a strafing run that forced them to part in front of her. She dove through the break in their formation, throwing the throttle full open and picking up speed dangerously in the dive. She pulled out of the dive, conserving much of this new velocity, and continued speeding away from the CT's, which had fallen far behind her. Banking left, she headed north for a bit, putting the fight farther and farther behind her.
Patch dove straight for a group of CT's headed in her direction. The startled pirates fired at her, their shots hitting the CT's still pursuing her from behind. She wove through the confusion she'd created, making things even harder for the few pirates still behind her by heading west into the afternoon sun and diving seaward, with the sun reflecting off the waves and blinding those behind her that chose to look directly at her aircraft. Skimming the crests of the waves, she made sure there was a fair amount of distance between her and the pirates before she changed her heading toward Checkpoint 27.
Dixie banked sharply to the right, peeling out and down away from the pirate fighters. Streaking away from the fight, she pulled up into a formation of clouds and slowly headed eastward, watching silently as her pursuers flew right by her in the low-visibility of the clouds.
Hazel, hearing Sal's broadcast, banked the Albatross to the left and headed south. They were still several miles from the convoy, and would be fine as long as they avoided detection. Like her namesake, the Albatross could cover great distances on her long wings -- in a strong, following wind her engines could even be slowed to the point where she was almost a glider -- but she could not perform tight maneuvers. Nor did she have much speed to brag of. She was also rather lightly-armed - she had a nosegun and a tail-gun to keep attackers at bay, but little shielding, as it interfered too much with the sensitive electrical equipment she carried. So, even at her best, the Albatross was not Hazel's choice aircraft for a fight. And the Tigercats' Albatross was far from at her best -- she was in great need of an overhaul.
****************************
Sal banked her fighter hard to the right, avoiding much of the round fired at her. She kicked the rudder full right, sliding in the air and shaking the fighters on her tail - all but one. The triplane behind her followed her every move, fraying her rudder and putting many cracks in her windshield. -I just can't shake this guy!- she thought to herself. She banked left, then right, rolled, then cut her engine and nosed her fighter into a steep dive. Giving the engine full throttle, she pushed her fighter back up, rolling the plane upright again and streaking for cover.
"Get offa my tail!" she yelled over her shoulder, gritting her teeth in frustration. Bullets screamed by her as she tried one final trick: pulling a lever on the console, she put the fighter in a slightly-spinning dive. The plane began venting steam from the back of the engine compartment, which, coupled with her faltering dive, gave all the impressions of an engine failure and a crash-landing fighter.
Whether Karnage truly believed the ruse or not, the triplane broke pursuit and headed, instead, for the wandering cargo plane. He had shown those pretenders who the real pirates were - now he wanted his treasure.
****************************
Meg glided a few feet above the waves, circling the checkpoint twice before landing on the ocean surface. Moments later, Patch did the same, bringing her fighter to a halt a wing's width away from Meg's. The calico cat flashed her compatriot a nervous smile as her engine cooled.
"Hey, Meg, you're listing," she noticed.
"Left pontoon's coming loose," the Siamese replied, removing her beaten leather flight cap.
Patch nodded in understanding. Their fighters could all stand some repairs – and the fighting strategies of the Tigercats didn't alleviate that any. She was about to inform her friend that her fighter was sitting low enough in the water that the pontoon was probably punctured as well, but then remembered Meg had landed on the trimotor. "Did you get anything?"
"A couple bars," Meg replied, sighing, "Man, is Sal ever going to be pissed at us..."
"Naw, she's gonna be pissed at Scat," Patch laughed, pricking her ears at the sound of a nearby engine, "Hey, speak of the devil..." she began, spotting Scat's struggling fighter flying low over the waves.
Scat had to fight with her plane just to keep it from crashing into the waves. She had a leaking coolant line, and was trying to keep her engine's temperature down by flying through the sea spray. She was faring pretty well, except that a damaged pontoon and a compartment full of gold bullion kept throwing her equilibrium. She finally gave up, touching down on the surface several hundred feet from her fellow pirates and taxiing up to where they were clustered.
"How much'd you get?" Patch inquired as she bobbed to a stop.
"Dunno. A dozen bars, maybe. I took as much as I could…probably twice what I gave Meg," she replied, "Not that you couldn't handle the weight, Meg," she added as the Siamese's eyes narrowed in anger, "just that I wasn't carryin' as much as I could when I gave you the first load."
"Yeah, right," Meg grumbled.
They waited in silence for several minutes, until Scattercat began to fidget.
"What's takin' the others?" she wondered aloud.
****************************
Sal leveled her fighter a hundred feet above the ocean waves, banking around to make sure no one was still following her. Above her, she could see Karnage's fighters closing in on the trimotor. Having dispatched the last of Khan's escort, many of the pirates were already headed back south, to a dark patch in the clouds Sal guessed was the Iron Vulture. Tethering their planes to the trimotor, several pirates disembarked and entered the captured plane through the cockpit.
So much for Scat's great plan, she sighed, shaking her head. She just couldn't get it through to that cat that she chose their targets carefully, placing more importance on whether or not the raids would attract unwanted attention than on the value of their cargo. Hopefully, Scat hadn't taken that much gold. Of all the forces that threatened them, Karnage was the one she least wanted to deal with. The fox might spare her pilots, but, as their leader, she'd be too dangerous to keep around. And one did not incur trust by going after shipments he planned on attacking.
She shook her head. It was complicated. They had never attempted to join Karnage – they'd known he had few, if any, female pirates. Plus, they had started their "careers" far from the Vulture's preferred routes - and by the time they'd drawn near those routes, her band had grown in strength and numbers, and had not wanted to join the larger band.But that had been months ago, when she'd had more pirates at her command. Now they were more of an annoyance than a threat to Karnage, and thus kept a low profile. Or tried to.
Turning southwest, Sal headed toward a small, slow-moving radar blip. Better catch up to the Albatross…
***************************
"Heads up, Hazel! We've got incoming!" Ears yelled, indicating the fighter-sized blip that had just appeared on her screen.
"Relax, Ears, it's only me," Sal's voice said over the radio, "Figured you two might appreciate an escort in."
"Only if you're more effective that Khan's!" Hazel laughed, winking as Sal pulled up beside the recon plane, "So, what's the damage report?"
"I think we all made it out in one piece. And I'm pretty sure they've stopped chasing us…for now, anyway. Just to be safe, though, we should probably fly the rest of the way to 27 under their radar range."
"I hear ya, Sal. Descending to forty feet," Hazel said, "Checkpoint 27 is approximately fifteen minutes south-southwest of our current position."
"Listen to you, sounding all official," Ears teased, turning back to her screens.
****************************