New York City, New York June 1938 Sam had thought the five Silverwings in front of him were bad enough. Then more boats appeared. More men in leather jackets launched into the air. Sam looked up as nearly a dozen of them climbed into formation, automatic rifles already raised. [color=gold]“Of course there are more of you.”[/color] The sound of gunfire cracked through the air. Sam threw his arms across his face as bullets struck his reinforced gloves and glanced from his shoulders. They did not pierce his skin, but each impact still landed like a hard punch. He staggered back a step. One of the Silverwings broke from the others and accelerated toward the Statue of Liberty. Sam’s attention snapped away from the men surrounding him. The workers clinging to the scaffolding had no protection against machine-gun fire, much less whatever explosives the Germans had brought with them. [color=gold]“Get away from there!”[/color] Sam shouted. [color=gold]“Everybody down!”[/color] Whether the workers could hear him over the rocket engines and gunfire was another matter. Golden light glowed beneath his skin. His clenched fists shone brightly enough to throw reflections across the water. Sam raised one hand toward the Silverwings overhead and released the light all at once. A brilliant golden flash burst across the harbor. He wasn’t expecting it to bring anyone down by itself, but flying with a rocket strapped to one’s back seemed difficult enough without being suddenly blinded. At the very least, it might spoil their aim and break their formation. As the glare faded, Sam caught sight of something else moving through the air. A boy. A flying boy no less, weaving among the Silverwings as though this were all perfectly normal. Sam stared for longer than he should have. [color=gold]“Was that a child?”[/color] There would be time for questions later. Probably several of them. A shadow passed overhead. Sam looked up just in time to see another Silverwing diving toward him, rifle aimed directly at the barge. He braced himself as the man opened fire, then lunged forward beneath the gunfire and caught hold of the German’s jacket as he passed. The rocket pack nearly pulled Sam off his feet. His boots tore across the deck while the Silverwing struggled to gain altitude, engine screaming behind him. Sam tightened his grip with both hands and planted one foot against the railing. [color=gold]“You’re not going anywhere.”[/color] He pulled. The Silverwing was ripped backward out of his flight path and slammed hard against the deck. Sam immediately reached for the rifle, crushing the barrel between his glowing hands before throwing it aside. He did not know how stable the rocket pack was, and he had no desire to discover what happened if he punched it. More gunfire sounded from the water. Sam glanced toward the approaching boat and spotted a man in a red coat behind the wheel. The gentleman had goggles, a cane that apparently doubled as a rifle, and the air of someone who had arrived late to a dinner engagement rather than a Nazi attack. So that was where the flying boy had come from. Reinforcements, then. Odd reinforcements, but Sam was not in a position to complain. [color=gold]“Glad you could join us!”[/color] he called toward the boat, though there was a fair chance the man could not hear him. Another figure was climbing the statue itself, carrying what appeared to be a length of rope. Sam could not get a clear look at him from this distance, but anyone sprinting toward the Silverwings instead of away from them was probably on their side. Probably… The German beneath Sam reached for a sidearm. Sam caught his wrist before he could draw it. [color=gold]“No.”[/color] He twisted the weapon free and tossed it into the harbor. Then he grabbed the Silverwing by the front of his jacket and hauled him upright. [color=gold]“How do I turn this thing off?”[/color] The man answered in German and spat something that did not sound particularly helpful. Sam sighed. [color=gold]“I was afraid you’d say that.”[/color] The rocket pack flared. Sam shoved the German away from the edge as the engine suddenly thrust them both sideways. He caught the railing with one hand, but the Silverwing was pulled off balance, dragged behind the loud machine. Sam reached out and caught him again before he could be carried into the air. For one absurd moment, Sam found himself holding a Nazi by the ankle while the man’s rocket pack tried to fly in the opposite direction. [color=gold]“Would somebody please explain why the Germans have flying suits?”[/color] The Silverwing twisted, trying to kick free. Sam swung him down onto the deck hard enough to knock the fight out of him, then drove his fist into the machinery strapped across the man’s back. Golden light flared at the point of impact. Metal buckled, the engine coughed, and the rocket finally died in sparks. One problem solved. Only about fifteen more to go. Sam stepped over the unconscious soldier and looked toward the Statue of Liberty. The Silverwing who had broken away earlier was still heading for her, flying dangerously close to the crown. Sam backed toward the edge of the barge, judging the distance. He couldn’t fly. He really wished everyone would stop reminding him of that today. Golden light burned brighter around him as he bent his knees. [color=gold]“Keep the others busy!”[/color] he shouted toward whichever of his new allies happened to be listening. [color=gold]“I’m going after the statue!”[/color] Then Sam launched himself from the barge, jumping over the water in a streak of blue and gold toward the flying soldier above Liberty Island. He could not alter his course once he was airborne. All he could do was trust his aim and hope the scaffolding held when he reached it.