"I too would worry more about being shot down," Izkry commented in response to both Oscar and Jason, "But I think I am more worried about getting shot after we land than before.  Still, I plan on living until I am a grumpy old man shaking my cane and yelling at the young...ah, the young whips, telling them to stay off the grass."  He smiled.  "I couldn't possibly die -- who would get on my sister's nerves if I did, hm?"  Beside him, Belasý rolled her eyes and nudged him with an elbow.  For the first time since they'd met her she seemed to be smiling, at least a little.

"We are a strange little group, ja?" the young man continued.  He'd commented on it before, but still he was surprised by how very different they all were.  "Swiss German, British, Chinese American, Polish, Italian, Spanish, French.  I suppose the saying is true, a common enemy brings people together."  He looked thoughtful for a moment, but shook the slightly melancholy thought off.  "Frau Dubois, Monsieur Jean, I know we go after the Nazis in control of France, but do we have any specific goals for this mission?  I would like to know more about what to expect, if more is known."  He hesitated for a moment, and then added another thought.  "And I think perhaps we should say more than just what we can do.  We are a team now -- I want to know about you all as people."  Izkry looked around the cabin at the faces that told of vastly different backgrounds and experiences.  "I think we will work better if we know each other.  Belasý and I, we are from Germany.  This was before the Nazis took over, you understand, but they still wanted those with superpowers.  We escaped to Switzerland maybe ten years ago now, with a sergeant our father served with in the first Great War.  I like Switzerland.  It is a nice place, and where we live, the people are friendly.  When this war is over, I will go back and enter the automotive industry.  Someday children will learn in school about Izkry and how he came up with a wonderful new design for car engines."

A muffled sound that might have been a snort, or perhaps a snicker, came from the woman in the next seat.  Izkry looked at her in mock affront.  "You think it will never happen, Belasý, but you wait and see!"  Inwardly he was pleased.  She seemed to be more at ease than she had been following Oscar and Tommy's displays, and that had been his intention in part.  Turning back to the others, he told them, "Bel wants to be a chef, or maybe own a restaurant.  She is a wonderful cook, and if you compliment something she made she will turn the most amazing shade of red -- see, see, already her cheeks are pink!"  It was good-natured teasing, and Belasý had never quite figured out how to stop her brother from doing it.  In truth, she did not really wish to, and as she covered her face with her hands, ducking her head so her dark hair brushed her knees, the woman was very glad to have such a cheerful person at her side.