"I'm on my way," Carol grunted. 

She was sitting on the beach, taking inventory of her bumps and bruises while a group of children watch from afar.

"Be there in five. Danvers out."

Carol stood and brushed sand from her uniform. The children scattered when she looked in their direction. Sighing, Carol took to the air and flew over the kids while they looked on in awe. It was only a few minutes flight to the hotel at even a leisurely speed, but it gave her time to think. She didn't fully know what Stark was planning, other than it was related to the current anti-mutant problem in America, and some kind of plan to change things. Her plan had originally been to observe and decide after hearing all the facts, but then came the government's email, then the jets. She was too busy running away to check, but she was sure the Hornet she ripped into crashed, the fate of the pilot uncertain. She had attacked US armed forces in self-defense. Even in self-defense, it was an offense tantamount to treason. In hindsight, that choice to run instead of be arrested was her Rubicon moment. After that there was go going back.

Carol landed in front of the lobby to the expensive hotel. The sight of a flying woman in a colorful costume, one that was ripped and partially burnt, drew all eyes in the area on her. What looked like photographers were beginning to gather near the far end of the parking lot beside the hotel. She ignored them and walked through the lobby where more people gaped and watched her intently. Carol found a bar in the lounge area to the right of the lobby. She saddled up to it and got the bartender's attention.

"Señora?"

"You speak English? I'd like an Old Fashioned, please."