13083/Delivering A Package

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Delivering A Package
Date of Scene: 15 October 2022
Location: Italy, 1944
Synopsis: During World War II, Zinda Blake flies Steve Rogers behind enemy lines for a parachute drop, while the Howling Commandos make it appear Captain America is with them.
Cast of Characters: Steve Rogers, Zinda Blake




Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers runs across the tarmac of the small Allied airfield. It's night and all of the lights are out to make it more difficult for any Axis planes to spot the base. In one hand is a backpack, in the other a parachute.

Even if he couldn't see it in the starlight, the sound of the plane's engines would have guided him to where it sits waiting at the end of the runway. He climbs inside and slams the door closed behind him.

"Just got word from the rest of the Howling Commandos," Steve says to the pilot. "They are engaging the Germans and Bucky's got my uniform on, making a spectacle of himself. So Hydra shouldn't be expecting me to show up at their base. Let's do it, Lady Blackhawk," he says. Steve sets down the parachute and the backpack, securing them, then slips into the copilot chair, just for the view, not because he's planning on piloting.

Zinda Blake has posed:
The plane isn't the biggest or the fastest transport in the Allied bullpen, but the little Lockeed Hudson has the range to get there and back. And it's both rugged and maneuverable. Both engines buzzing low, the cabin door is open until Cap closes it behind him.

"Aye-aye, Skipper." the blonde pilot replies. Giving the ground crew a salute, she races one engine to quickly turn the bird around. A short while later they are on the runway and picking up speed. "Gave the gunner the night off, so it's jus' you an' me." she offers, once the gear is raising.

Contrary to popular belief State-side, Zinda doesn't fly missions in her short skirt and go-go boots. Tonight she is wearing a Blackhawk flight suit along with her cap and headset, as well as a pair of .45's in a double shoulder-holster rig. "I got my course. You -sure- this is where you wanna go?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Zinda put emphasis on 'sure'. Steve puts it on another word. "-Want- to go? No. But need to go, yes," he says with a quiet chuckle as he looks out the window. At first he can make out details on the ground, but as they climb into the dark night, it doesn't take long before below there is little to see of the war torn Italian countryside but darkness.

Steve pulls out a map from inside his jacket, going over it yet one more time, though he has long ago committed it to memory. "We need to know what we're dealing with, with this new weapon the Germans have been mounting on their self-propelled guns," he says. "Seems like the work of Schmidt and his men," Steve adds, naming the Red Skull by surname name rather than by the better know moniker the Allies have bestowed him.

He glances behind him towards where the tail gunner would normally be. "Probably for the best. If we are in a situation we need them, probably one gun isn't going to be enough. You know your escape route and Resistance meeting point and pass phrases in case you go down?" he asks. He knows she does, but he's thorough.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake angles over, spending a few moments adjusting the trim on flaps and rudder once the course is set. "I know you been dropped into some pretty hairy places b'fore, but I always like to ask." she offers. The blonde pilot shoots him a glance as he looks over the map, and for a moment she looks like she almost might reach over to smooth his hair back like they were going to church.

"Oh, I already got the other guns sighted forward, jus' in case." she adds with a grin and a wink. It also means that Zinda wouldn't want to risk a gunner on this mission. Something that goes unsaid. She laughs when he mentions the Resistance meeting point and pass phrases.

"Hey now! Ain't I th' one s'posed to be tellin' YOU to be careful out there? Besides, I -might've- checked out a shotgun from the armory an' stashed it with my survival gear."

She double-checks bearing and altitude. "Wouldn't be my first time losin' a perfectly good airplane, y'know. But everytime we go flyin', YOU're the one who insists on jumpin' out."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve relaxes back in the seat, looking over to Zinda and flashing her a soft grin. "Keep it up and one of these days they might start charging you for them," he kids about the loss of airplanes. "Though I'm reminded of the saying about what kind of person it takes to jump out of a perfectly good plane," he says as he pats his chute. He packed it himself of course. His shield is currently on his back though he'll shift the position before using the parachute, so it's not caught beneath it should he need to use it as he's descending, or right after he lands.

"How were things when you were back home?" he asks. "Did they send you on the dog and pony show circuit?" Steve inquires. Of course he started out doing bond sales and only through his own initiative while on a USO tour was he able to prove his mettle to the officers that he should be out there fighting.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake relaxes a little as well, although she keeps glancing about casually while they fly. Old habits. "I usually take down more than I give up, so nobody's bothered me about it too much." With a kill count somewhere in the 90's, Army brass is more concerned about losing Zinda than any number of planes she might wreck.

She laughs at the question about the dog and pony circuit. "Oh honey, I did more than that. They had me posin' for pictures, signin' posters, an' doin' everything but kissin' babies." Zinda tips her hat and flashes a grin. "Keep Em' Flyin', y'all!"

Another laugh follows. "Who knows? Play your cards right an' maybe I'll sign one so you can give it to a lady-friend."

Here it comes...

"Speakin' of which, you ever call that nice gal in the radio room?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"If I know the Army Public Affairs office, I'm guessing they wanted you to dress in something that would have one of my not-lady friends wanting to see the picture more," Steve says in a wry tone. "I didn't understand at first when they issues me my uniform for those shows why talcum powder came with it," he says, shaking his head at the memories.

Steve clears his throat then. "Well, I have. Over the radio, I mean. Though I'm guessing that's not exactly how you meant the question," he says as he looks out the window. The clouds rolling in from the northwest are blocking the stars, and they can't go too high because of enemy radar, so there isn't a lot to look at out there. "I don't know," he says quietly of calling the woman.

It's been fairly obvious to those who know him well that he has had a thing for a certain British officer. Though so far nothing seems to have come of it, as far as anyone knows. "Why, was she asking about me?" he inquires.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake chuckles at that, shooting him a -look- as well as a nod. "Talcum powder? Oh, lawdy!" The blonde pilot doesn't -quite- roll her eyes at that, but the amusement is plain to see. "That was a -costume-, not a uniform." But they both get it.

"Least it's a cloudy night." she offers, pushing the nose down a little all the same. It's a tricky balance to stay below radar, yet high enough that the engines aren't heard until they've already passed. Zinda's expression softens, then. "Listen, Cap... Steve... there's a whole brigade of WAC's, an' more than a few civilian ladies, who'd love to get a call from you. An' for every google-eyed boy checkin' out my legs there were two gals askin' if I knew THE Captain America."

She lets that sink in a moment. "I know you got your reasons, but you gotta get off the bench and in the game sometime. War ain't gonna go on forever."

Steve Rogers has posed:
The faint glow of the instrumentation is barely enough to see the expression on the face of Steve Rogers as the humble man works out how to reply. "Well, probably just means that those Army public relations guys are pretty skilled at their job," he offers.

Steve shifts in his seat. "I've got too much to worry about with the Germans and Hydra and everything else over here, anyway," he says, before turning the question back on Zinda. "So about those google-eyed boys," he says, looking over to flash a grin to the famed woman pilot. "Any that are worth giving up a seat on the bench so far?" he asks. "It isn't any wonder if there are some. What you've done is amazing on its own. With what you've had to go through just for the opportunity," he says, alluding to the issues women find in military service in this enlightened age of the 1940s. "Quite a role model for a lot of people out there, and not just women and girls."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake keeps glancing around, checking for landmarks along the way now that they're a bit lower. She also glances over to her passenger more than a few times. He turns the question and for once, Zinda is quiet. By the light of the instruments she might even be blushing.

The grin returns, then, a little softer than usual. "C'mon now, honey. You an' I, we're sorta married to this thing until it's all over, y'know?" They each had their own, indirect paths to get to where they are tonight. There's understanding in those blue eyes. Understanding and respect.

Zinda clears her throat, then. "That don't mean a gal can't get out an' have a good time every now and again!" she quips back, the bright grin returning. Yes, they understand each other. Zinda glances out of the window again, pushing the yoke forward. The engines whine as the plane descends lower. "Alright, sugah, we're goin' real low for a bit. I'll try not to scratch the paint on too many trees. We'll pop up again real quick for you to jump out."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Exactly," Steve says. "All we need is one more person out there worried about us," he says, using the conflict they are part of as an excuse. It is a convenient one after all.

As Zinda takes the plane lower as they are traveling over the enemy defenses that ring his target, Steve unhooks his seat's harness and rises, moving back to grab his chute and his backpack. The shield is removed from his back and the packed parachute donned. Steve tightens the straps and double checks everything, making sure the ties for pulling the chute are properly where he can reach them. Next the pack is attached to his hip on one side, the shield on the other.

He waits over at the door. "Well tell you what. If we both make it back, we can meet up at that little cantina over in Costa di Chieti and celebrate." It's a beautiful little town, apart from the war damage it has taken. The cantina one of the surviving buildings, with a nice view of the Adriatic.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake gives Steve a nod, starting to zig-zag in the squat little plane once he stands up and moves towards the back. No, neither one of them needs someone else to worry about, that's for certain.

"Costa di Chieti? Yeah, I remember the place y'all are talkin' about. An' honey, it's a date!" Except for them it'll never really be -like that-... Zinda will always be more like one of the boys. Or the big sister Steve never had.

The engines race as she pulls the nose up, pushing the throttle forward with a brief little 'oop' of reduced gravity. The lights go on in the back, but don't change color yet. "Almost there...." she offers. Then Zinda yells back. "An' don't you worry about the door!"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers dons his helmet and tightens the chin strap, and then double checks the straps of everything. Not wanting to lose his shield or backpack, or anything else for that matter, to the sudden force of the air he's going to encounter when he jumps.

"Alright, you can order us the drinks, but my treat," Steve says, beating her to the punch on the tab before they are even within a hundred miles of the place. He grins and goes over to the door, watching the light.

"Safe trip back home, Lady Blackhawk," he tells her. Then the dim light is turning green and Captain America is opening the door and without pause, jumping out of that completely good airplane, and from a fairly low altitude at that. He falls away, below and behind the plane, the black parachute difficult to see in the night, though if Zinda banks back around quickly enough she might see him approaching the ground.

Another day in World War II. Another mission.