As her consciousness came back to her, an audible groan left her lips.

Flying was something B.A. couldn’t stand as much was obvious as her dependence on “sleep aid”, especially considering the present company she [i]had[/i] to contend with; but she wasn’t going to make it the equivalent of pulling teeth if the group needed to take a plane over to Dubai, Cairo, or wherever else they needed to go. She wasn’t going be so stupid that she would refuse to fly with Murdock at the wheel and wouldn’t make it a game of cat and mouse for her and her squad; especially with the fact that the United States of America was privy in putting them back behind a locked door. In the situation they were part of she had to understand the situation and operate accordingly even if she didn’t like it and she very much did not like it. Face was an idiot, Murdock was [i]actually[/i] certifiably insane, and Hannibal wasn’t privy to sharing all of the details of their plan until she [i]needed[/i] to. In terms of comfortability B.A. wondered if she wouldn’t be safer being stuck behind the bars of her cell even if it was for a crime she didn’t commit.

But that would still being stuck in a situation that slandered her name and what her mother saw in her; a fact she could not allow. So she would deal with crazy. As she slowly got to her feet after Face took her out of her sleep she groggily sent out a question. 

“[color=A0522D]What happened?[/color]”

She knew what had happened— she wasn’t stupid. She knew the situation, she knew the [i]pilot[/i], and she knew her surroundings. Still, there was always a need of clarity for her when it came to the crazy fool in question’s piloting. Had they been shot down? Had they acquired a crap plane? or was it simple something they couldn’t account for such a legitimate malfunction? She thought for a moment as she rose her hands to her face as the grogginess she felt and the effects of the medication began to wane. 

Hannibal turned to her, a wide smirk upon her face. “[color=808000]We’ve landed.[/color]”

B.A. groaned in annoyance.

“[color=A0522D]…whatever. How far did we ‘land’ from our destination?[/color]”