Mister Johnston nodded slightly, sipping from the strong bourbon as he walked over to the large porthole in the side of the passenger lounge, watching the not-very distant carnage as at least two planes ganged up on the last remaining PR-1, the Red-painted Devastator unloading a long thirty-second burst into the nose of the enemy plane, while the large avenger coming up from below unloaded all its weapons as well, the twin sixties putting matching holes into both wings of the smaller collective plane.<br/><br/>Even partly obscured by the angle and the thick glass of the porthole, one could see chunks fly out of the gaping hole the Devastator carved into the Defender's nose, just underneath the spinner cone, which quickly ground to a halt. "Know him? To an extent. He and I were on opposing sides in the Great war." He smiled slightly, if bitterly, watching the ruined Defender burst into flames, diving straight down, visibly uncontrolled. "And that was a kill for the young lady in the Devastator, by the way. It does appear that, despite their uncouth manners, they're all quite effective."<br/><br/>He turned back to Miss Lamarr, calmly setting his ever-present briefcase aside and unlatching the manacle so he could move his hand freely. "Yes, he always has been that arrogant, pig-headed, and stubborn. Sometimes I ask myself if it would have been better merely to have shot him, instead of his wingman back in 'seventeen. Then again, I was younger, more prone to anger, and somewhat annoyed at Fritz for taking most of my right leg below the knee."<br/><br/>He smiled again, almost self-reproachingly. "I must admit, there have been times when I played poker against him, before returning to the Americas. He is much like his choice of plane; Loud, bombastic, and powerful, but doesn't take to sharp swerves well."<br/><br/>Distantly, there was a faint 'thump' followed by an echo of machinery being used, before the hand-cranked phone mounted on one wall rang twice, before Hedy picked up the reciever, listening to Bob's rough voice on the line.<strong> "They're back aboard Captain. Letting them sort out their gear now, but it'll be a long while before that Raven's back in the air. About the only thing working on it is the engine. I'll send the boys and girls up once they're fancied up."</strong><br/><br/>Mister Johnston moved around the table, leaning against a chair back as the Zeppelin shifted under the pair of them, the large airship turning easily. "I believe I already know the answer to be simple geography, but may I ask why Denver? I doubt there's much there, even for a vessel this size. Either way, I'll be adding a bounty of Five hundred dollars per plane shot down, to be distributed among the aircrew, from my own pocket."