“Take the stick,” Kate said to Reggie as she unstrapped herself.
“Wait… what?” Reggie sputtered. “I don’t know how to fly—”
“All you have to do is hold her steady. I’ll go take care of the rocket-truppen.”
“The what now?”
“The rocket-truppen. Rocket troopers. Our dear Professor Scrumtumbler accidentally designed the Nazis some rocket packs.”
The plane pitched forward as Kate swung herself out of the pilot’s seat. Reggie lunged for the stick. He clutched it with quaking hands, causing the plane to lurch and sway in its flight.
Good, Kate decided. That’ll make us harder to hit. Also, it’ll remind the boys to appreciate my expertise.
Gripping the railings to keep herself upright, she moved to a cargo locker just to the rear of the cockpit. From here, she could see Clem and Dr. Scott buckled tightly into the passenger seats, their eyes clenched shut, their faces fully green with air-sickness.
Kate opened the closet and unstrapped a footlocker from the bottom shelf. First, she removed her Tommy gun, snapped in a fresh ammo drum, and put her spare cartridge into the pocket of her flight jacket. Then she reached for the next object in the footlocker, a gleaming silver backpack consisting of a pair of thick engines strapped to short maneuvering wings.
“What are you doing?” Reggie yelled back from the cockpit. “You’re going to die and I’m not even going to get any good footage of it!”
“Scrutumbler designed their rocket packs,” she said. “But he designed mine even better.”