Psych the Avengers Out

New York New York

BOOM!!

Three speeders crash into each other at high speed as the jet screams away from the Avengers Tower. Jay focuses hard and grabs speeders out of the air from her position at the back hatch of the Quinjet, sending them spinning into each other. Debris rains down to the city below as she destroys speeder after speeder, goblins disappearing in fireballs. "How we doing back there?" Barton yells.

Jay gestures upwards with both hands and the last of the speeders behind them collides with the partner above him. "Clear for the moment," she hollers back. She can see more speeders coming their way in the distance but they have precious minutes until they catch up if their engines can rival the jet. "We have more coming," she yells and glances at Rogers. "What's our move, Captain?"

"Well Tyr pretty much shot our plan to hell with the surprise attack but I think what we worked out was pretty solid so if we can find a way to get word to Thor and Loki that we are going to go ahead with it; that might be the best option," Rogers says consideringly. "We're going to want to hang onto the jet for as long as possible so we aren't at a disadvantage but my guess is this fight is probably going to go to ground soon. We also need to get in touch with Stark to see where Banner is at."

"Banner is resting. The Hulk however, is having fun taking out goblins and trolls," comes Tony's voice over the headset, having clearly heard what was said in the jet. "The Hulk can clear out the tower just fine by himself. Tyr has gotten wind that Jay isn't in the tower but Loki is doing his best to distract him still to buy us some time."

There is a roar and a thunderous smash on the line as the Hulk presumably destroys the upper floors of Avengers Tower. "I'll send Thunder and Horns your way and we'll see what we can do from there," Iron Man yells over the link. "I'll catch up to you in the air as soon as the Hulk is done cleaning up this serious infestation of creepy creatures."

"Copy that," Steve replies. "We'll have Stark pick up Psych once Thor and Loki are in position."

Jay gives him a look that he can't interpret. "You just called me Psych," she says with something close to a smile in her voice.

"Chit-chat later!" Natasha yells from the pilot's seat. "We've got incoming; Warren Biochem from the looks of them!"

Rogers and Jay spin to see that Natasha is right and five small aircraft, one to two men at most, are coming straight at them. A strafing of bullets skims across the Quinjet and smoke pours out of one of the lifting blades. "Shit!" Nat swears and then switches over to Russian as she curses Jared Bradlich colorfully and fluently in two languages. Jay wants to be that badass someday. "I'm losing lift on the right wing, we're going to be a dead target in the sky!" she yells as she yanks the controls hard to avoid another round of fire and Hawkeye returns fire, blasting one fighter out of the sky.

The jet lists hard to the side and Jay slams into Rogers, his arms holding onto her waist as they collide with the side of the jet. Her head snaps back painfully and she knows she probably has a concussion but ignores the pain even as she bites her tongue. "Hold on to something!" Barton hollers from the front and Jay feels the floor drop out from underneath her as they plummet downwards. "If you could get rid of some of those fighters it would sure help out, kid!" Clint yells as he fires desperately at the incoming fighters. Jay tries to stand but the floor keeps shifting underneath her and gravity is pulling the jet down too fast. She doesn't even know if she'll get her feet underneath herself before they impact.

Strong pulls herself out of the Captain's grasp and slides her way to the front so she can see out of the window. Two fighters have sped past, and three more remain in front, trying to hem them in. Her head spins at first when she tries to focus but then she finds her internal balance and reaches out and stops one of the fighter's engines dead. She clenches her fist and the engine crumples like a pop can. The damaged fighter twirls in a demented spiral, smoke pouring from the cockpit.