"Damn Steve... he totally kicked your ass this time." Bucky smiled as he helped his friend up. Even given the hefty beating he had taken, a guy who was 6' 4'' didn't really need anyone to help him, especially when said guy also had regeneration powers that allowed him to shrug off gunshots. Though at this moment, Captain America was wondering what was worse, getting hit by Slade when he was trying, or getting shot. Slade of course, was thinking of the same thing, only difference was that he got to experience this a lot less than Steve had. A steel chest-plate and layers of Kevlar would do well against knives and bullets, but when faced against a guy who hit so hard that it would leave dents in cement walls, it would hurt like hell if he took any hits. He had managed to do well with his countering to Steve's moves, but a few marks of where he had been careless would be there for all to see until Slade took the time to fix it. Wiping blood from his face, he looked at Steve, who currently had his face messed up so badly, it was partially unrecognizable.
"You've been practicing?"
"Hell no... didn't try last time." Slade said as he recalled quite the hefty beating he received. This time, with all his equipment and 65 years of combat experience unleashed, it was amazing how the Captain had actually managed to give him quite the good fight, despite his relatively minimal experience when compared to Slade's.
"Right... right..." Steve said as he got up and placed his foot on his shield, sending it right up to his hands. Slade's hands still shook from hitting the shield with his staff a bit too hard. It felt as though that there were teeth within his fingers that were chattering non-stop. He looked over at Bucky and Trude.
"Don't think we're done here. It'll take an hour before everything is gone... right Captain?"
"Yeah." Steve said as he glanced at his rapidly healing injuries. "I still gotta try Trude on for size."
"You beat me in a race Rogers... you won't beat me in a fist fight." Trude said rather confidently as she put her gloves on. The canine ears manifesting the moment she did.
"Don't sound so sure about that kid... just because you could probably turn him into glue by punching him doesn't mean you'll actually hit him." Slade said as he sat down on a rock before taking off his gloves, his knuckles had been busted and were beginning to heal. That shield... reminded him of Nth metal. "Besides... why don't you try hitting his shield? See how much you like that."
She did hit it... and boy... it was hilarious. As though she had ran into a giant slingshot, Trude went sailing back quite a few meters, about as far as she could have thrown Steve actually.
"Does using your magic also give you the brains of a dog too?" Slade quipped sarcastically, having not actually expected for Barkhorn to ACTUALLY punch Steve's shield. Barkhorn got up, eyes wide with amazement at the shield.
"What... how?"
"Long story short... this thing doesn't break." Steve grinned proudly. "You got your own shield too... can I have a shot?"
Barkhorn nodded as she called upon the ether, the blue disk manifesting itself right in front of her. She made note that it was slightly larger than normal, kudos to the gloves that Twilight had given her.
Readying himself the Captain brought his fist back, and sent it crashing forward. Though the shield buckled and shook, it did not break, though the large cracks within the disk of ether was plain enough for anyone to see. If Steve tried, he could easily kill any man with his bare hands, something that'd he done quite a lot during the second world war... though it was something he couldn't help but feel disdain upon at such a messy (and let's not forget inhumanly painful) method of snuffing someone out.
"Too bad the men back where I am from aren't like you." Barkhorn smiled as the shield disappeared. If the ENTIRE mundane armies of the world was like him... the Neuroi would probably be a joke.
"Humph." Slade grumbled. "Until you rip off a plane door with only a single hand, I am not impressed."
"Okay... I'll do it the next time HYDRA shows it's face..."
"Um... guys..." Bucky began as he looked up into the skies.
"What is it Bucky?" Steve asked.
"Funny... you know that thing about HYDRA you just mentioned?"
"Yeah... um... what's that?"
He pointed right at what could be described as an entire squadron of quinjets.
"YOU PACKED A ROCKET LAUNCHER?!" Slade asked annoyed as he ran back to the... well... not treehouse anymore. More like crystal house.
"No!" Bucky replied. "DID IT LOOK LIKE I had a rocket launcher?!"
"Damn it! How the hell are we supposed to take them down?!" Slade brought up as the four ran back to Twilight's house.
"You know Slade... now would be a good time to demonstrate that plane door thing!" Steve began as they reached the house, opening the door and practically tripping on each other to get into the basement.
"I can rip off the door... not fly you idiot!" Slade said as he opened the basement door and set foot within. What happened next was somewhat a mess as Slade fell backwards, right onto Steve, who fell right onto Trude, who in turn fell down right on top of Bucky as though someone had played a game of human dominoes.
"Ugh... what the hell... watch where you're going kid!" Slade grumbled in his irritated voice as he got up, seeing Erica who was currently in half a uniform and her underpants, armed to the teeth and carrying those propeller packs he had seen earlier.
"Scuse me...!" Erica said as she ended up stepping on Steve's leg, Trude's chest, and Bucky's face causing him to plant right into the carpet as a barefoot went right into his face, making a beeline to the door before putting on the striker units.
"Everyone can hear me?" Erica asked.
"Just me!" Barkhorn commented, being the only one who had any form of communicator on her as of the moment. "What is it Erica?"
"Just doing what I do best." Erica grinned as she took off.
"What the hell is she gonna do?" Bucky asked as he grabbed his sniper rifle from downstairs.
"Doing what she does best..." Barkhorn grinned as she saw Erica prepare the MG42...
A single bullet was essentially a RPG round when in the hands of a witch... so... imagine 1200 rounds per minute...
_________________________________________________________________________
One could hardly fathom the HYDRA pilot's surprise when he saw that one of his wing-men getting torn to ribbons by a hail of bullets. Not even a hail really, seemed as though the few that did blew off entire chunks of plane as though some extremely high caliber weapon system had hit home. Turning around... which would take him quite some time when compared to Erica, he looked at his target... a girl with what could be described a jetpack... only for your legs. If he'd looked closer... he might have been distracted with the fact she wasn't wearing any pants.
"What the hell?! Fire!" The man said as the four quinjets rolled in for Erica. Though she was far slower than her larger opponents, she had the advantage of maneuverability and not being a whopping large target for her enemies as the machine gun fire totally whizzed by her, not even coming close to hitting her. Firing again, she sent another quinjet out of the sky, Raising her shield, she saved herself from a burst of machine gun fire that while probably wouldn't have harmed her person, would have come dangerously close. She took note of her rather large shield, large enough to encompass a fairly large area as well as her entire body. The machine gun fire however, came at quite the rapid rate as it quickly began to crack the shield. Staying on the move, it would take time for Erica to realize that the high-tech jet could actually lock on to her, effectively tracking her movements. Good thing she quickly destroyed the one quinjet that just did leaving two more for her to go.
One of the aircraft swung back, locking straight onto her from a distance. The pilot within grinned nastily as he got his lock on before pressing the trigger.
It surprised Erica to see all the missiles and rockets that flew her way, but also surprised her a bit more to realize that they could actually track and follow her. To her dismay, she realized they were faster than her... far faster. But thankfully, not more maneuverable. This gave her an idea as she began to look for the closest target before approaching. The pilot within focused on her, Gatling gun firing away, as the missiles came in from the sides, enclosing upon her from the front while machine gun fire buzzed around her.
The missiles came just in front of her... just between her and the plane...
"STURM!" The girl called out. The missiles, being small in size... stopped from the powerful gust of ether wind, some of them even sprawling off in different directions. The quinjet... being larger in size was slowed, but not stopped. This would not save it from the missiles that weren't moving forwards or the ones that were headed straight for it and attempting to turn around to hit their original target. A few of them even locked on to the quinjet's heat trail, sealing the fate of the plane which was already screwed beyond belief.
Boom.
The remaining HYDRA pilot's jaw dropped. The camera within the quinjet recorded this all... and rather than die here... he flew right to base... Erica would not bother to pursue, he was fasteri n his plane.
Schmidt would want to see this. Their job had already been done anyways, as those jets were returning from a trip. They had finished firebombing a city called "Manehattan" the name of which earned the ire of the Red Skull.
It wouldn't be long before Schmidt decided to make his move.