Swatzis watching him.  In fact, he was so nervous that he couldn’t recall what Horten Hootenski had said about the startup procedure until two men of the ground crew pulled the ripcords in the center of the jet engines.  The twin turbines belched fire out of their exhausts for a few seconds then the flames abated as they picked up speed.

“Awesome,” Kit squeaked, biting his lip to suppress his smile. This was the fastest jet in the world, and he got to fly it.

With one last jaunty salute, Kit began to taxi the Hoot E-2 out of the hangar and towards the freedom of the open sky.  As he approached the open hangar doors, he thought, That was too easy.

Just then, Captain von Fleanitz, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, slipped and slid into the hangar.  Kit couldn’t hear what the captain was shouting, but from the gestures he was making, he seemed furious.

As bullets from the multitudes of Swatzi guards began to rain around him, Kit thought, Oops.  Spoke too soon.

In Kit’s earpiece, a voice commanded, “Schtop the plane! You cannot eschape!”

“You wanna bet?”  Now outside on the runway, Kit pushed the throttle forward and pulled back on the stick, climbing into the sky.  “Whoooooooa!” he shouted, being pushed back in his seat with more g-force than he’d ever experienced.

“All right. You asked for it,” the earpiece voice sneered.

The Swatzis unleashed all their firepower. Anti-aircraft guns bombarded him.  Planes poured out of the hangar.  A gigantic guided missile was launched from the grain silo beside the barn.

Kit, trying to avoid everything the enemy was throwing at him while maneuvering an unfamiliar airplane, cried, “This was definitely not in the flight manual!”

Meanwhile…
Higher for Hire

Baloo paced the length of the office with Cassie trailing behind him.  The little girl was mimicking her father from the furrowed brow to the wringing hands to the muttering under the breath. The only difference was that Baloo was muttering about Kit; Cassie was muttering about pickles.

Rebecca, leaning against her desk, thought, What is there about pacing back and forth like a caged lion that makes a man feel better?  Hearing a truck pull up outside, she thought, Maybe this will help.  “Cargo's here, Baloo."

Apathetically, Baloo took the clipboard from his wife.  His eyes lit up when he saw the destination - the air force base.

“I undercut everyone to get this contract.  We’ll lose money, but it’s worth it.”  Rebecca picked up Cassie and settled her on her hip.  “Go find out what happened to Kit and bring him home if you can.”

“Will do, boss lady.”  He took off for the Sea Duck with renewed vigor.  When he reached the door, he paused and doubled back, kissing Rebecca and tweaking Cassie’s nose gently.  “Thanks, honey.”

After Baloo left, Rebecca and Cassie grinned at each other.

Two Hours Later...
At the Air Force Base

“Object is acquired,”  Kit’s voice said over the radio.  “I repeat, object is acquired and I have shaken off all bogeys. Over.”

Of the three men in the room - General Stately, Shere Khan, and Baloo - Baloo was the happiest.  “That’s my boy!” he exclaimed, pounding an extremely unamused Shere Khan on the back.

General Stately said into the microphone, “What are your coordinates and airspeed? Over?”

Kit briefly told him.

The general turned to a map hanging on the wall. “At your present position and speed, you should arrive at the air force base before nightfall.  Over.”

“Uh, negative.  Shrapnel from anti-aircraft artillery blew a hole in my starboard fuel tank.  It’s reading less than 200 gallons and the needle’s dropping like a rock.  Over.”

“Oh, man…” Baloo’s stomach knotted.  He sank into the nearest chair.

Shere Khan, who had come to the air force base to personally find out the status of the purloined plane, offered,  “My aircraft carrier could be in position within a few  hours.”

“No good. He’s running out of fuel fast.”  The general circled an area on the wall map.  “After this point, he’ll have to ditch in the ocean, and we’ll lose all hope of recovery.  If only there was a flying airstrip available.”

“There is, Stately.”  Baloo muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m doin’ this,” as he picked up the microphone.

Meanwhile…
The Iron Vulture

Karnage lounged in his captain’s seat and gazed out into the wild blue yonder.  “Most, most interesting, Baloo, you asking my wonderful self for help.  Tell me.  What could you possibly give me that would make me agree?”

Gibber muttered something in the pirate captain’s ear.

Mad Dog said, “Ask for gold.”

“Jewels,” Dumptruck added.

“Oo!  Oo!  I got it.  Citrus fruit,” Hal suggested with a grin that revealed a missing tooth.

“Again with the citrus fruit?” Mad Dog scoffed. A scuffle ensued, which turned into a full blown fight involving most of the pirates.

As always, Karnage ignored his minions’ suggestions and the melee behind him.  “All right. I am feeling generous today.  A million dollars.”

“A million bucks just to let Kit land a plane on the Iron Vulture?”

“You are right.  That is much too generous.  Two million.”

Baloo, who had no idea how he was going to get two million dollars, said, “Fine, fine, whatever ya want, Karny.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” the pirate captain said disapprovingly.

Frowning, Baloo reluctantly corrected himself. “Karnage.”

“Much better.  But next time, roll the ‘r’.”

Baloo, knowing that his son’s life was at stake, bit back a retort. “Just be at those coordinates.”

A Little While Later...
In the Hoot E-2

Over the radio, Baloo said, “All right. Karny’s gonna meet you there.” Under his breath, he added, “I hope.  How’s it goin’?  Over.”

“Fuel’s low, but I should make it.  You won’t believe how fast this thing is.  I bet nothing can catch up with it."

Suddenly, there was a flash of light that rocked the Hoot E-2.  “Whoa!”

“Kit?”

Kit craned his neck around only to spot another jet similar to the Hoot E-2 zooming up fast on his tail.“Things are heating up, Papa Bear. Gotta go.”

A Hounslandian voice hissed into Kit’s earpiece, “You schtole my uniform.”  A burst of gunfire.  “You schtole my plane.”  Another burst of gunfire.  “But, vorst of all, you schtole my Liftwoof Flying Cross!”  A longer burst of gunfire.

As he dodged, and weaved, and dove in order to avoid getting shot, Kit couldn’t resist saying, “You want it, Captain von Fleanitz?  Come and get it.”

“Oh, I vill.  The Hoot E-3 is faster, more maneuverable, and is armed with guided missiles.  You don’t schtand a chance.”

Kit gulped. “When will I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut?”  

“Missiles away,” Captain von Fleanitz announced triumphantly.

“Barrel roll, don’t fail me now,” Kit said between clenched teeth.  He performed a perfect barrel roll, but the missiles were still following him.

“Did I forget to mention that those are heat-seeking missiles?” the Swatzi laughed.

“Oh, man, what am I going to do?”  His eyes frantically scanned the controls. He didn’t know what half of them did and now he desperately needed to if he was going to escape.

The instruction book had become wedged between the windshield during Kit’s aerial maneuvers. He slid as far forward in his seat and reached for it, but his fingertips barely brushed against it. “I...need...that...book!”   Leaning forward just a little more, he accidentally slammed against the stick, flipping the plane upside-down.  Now it and the missiles were on a collision course with  the Hoot E-3.

A split-second before he pushed up on the throttle, pulled up on the stick, and headed straight for the stratosphere, Kit saw Captain von Fleanitz’s frightened face as the missiles barrelled towards him.

“Wahoo!”  Kit shouted as the Hoot E-3 exploded.  The Swatzi’s white parachute billowed out against the rolling expanse of the ocean.

But Kit’s elation was short-lived.  The fuel alarm blared.

“Oh, bad.  Oh, bad.  Oh, bad, bad, bad.”  Panic welled up inside him as the plane began to yaw dangerously.  He was out in the middle of the ocean with a plane he barely knew how to fly with no land in sight, no help in sight.

And then, emerging from a cloudbank a few miles ahead, was the Iron Vulture.

Kit said something he thought he’d never say in a million years.  “Oh, thank you, Don Karnage.”  He pushed the button to engage the tricycle landing gear.

A Little While Later...
On the Iron Vulture’s Desk

Don Karnage whooped with delight as he circled the Hoot E-2.  “From now on, I am thieving on a jet plane!”

Suddenly, the Iron Vulture was surrounded by Shere Khan’s elite fighter force and

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