My life flashed before me. And the faces of all the dirty scoundrels I locked behind bars. My only regret? Not adding this swindling swine to my own personal rogue's gallery. "Bastard!" I swore. "Just end it already!"

"As you wish leetle detectives!"

I heard a cry as a body tumbled falling. I looked at Maria and she faced me with the same confused question mark on her head. What just happened? It took a second to realize the body belonged to Mica Angelo himself. He screamed as he plummeted out of the plane.

We turned around to find young Chelle, panting hard. “Chelle?!” I screamed. “Did you just push your…”. Tears drop down her cheeks as she hyperventilated.

"I'm sorry…dad…" she said, close to hypoventilation. "I don’t want to…paint for you anymore. I just…wanna be… free!"

Maria placed her arm on her shoulder. "A real father would have never done that to you, chica.”

I was so relieved that it took me a moment to realize…

Drat! There was still several thugs behind us. Most notably, a big, hefty bald guy who could bench press all three of us combined.

But Maria was light on her feet. “Let’s tango, big guy!” she said and seized his wrists. She had mounted the battlefield to passionately waltz with her worst enemy. They wrestled over the large shotgun in his hands.

“Whatya gonna do?!” the big lug shouted. “There’s no way you can wrestle this gun out of my hand!”

“Oh I don’t need to, mis amores!” she said with a sly smile. “I’ve got something much better!”

“What?!” the bald bodyguard demanded. I was skeptical, too, but this was Signora Maria Santiago Gonzales he was dealing with.

She jammed her knee hard into his crotch. He doubled over and she seized shotgun. She slammed him over the head and delighted as he faltered to the ground.

“Cajones,” she grinned. “I’ve got cajones! Or rather lacktheof!”

“You scum!” the other men shouted. Both of them pulled their revolvers on her.

Metal sprayed straight at her from down the aisle. It would’ve been over in seconds, but yours truly leaped into the fray.

With the help of my cybernetic leg, the two bullets ricocheted right back at their targets, nicking one man in the arm and the other in his leg. They howled in pain. It took us a few seconds, but we managed to subdue them with a couple punches to the head. Once the passenger car had been secured, Maria winked at me. “Nice save back there, girl. Seems you really do care about me!”

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I crossed my arms. “As Archie might say, you were a valuable asset to this mission. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Maria knocked on my metal leg. “Just as steely as your leg, are we, mi amor? I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

"We need to get control of this plane anyway," I ordered her. "Like when you stole that police copter at precinct 6."

Maria rubbed her gloved hands together. "I'm tickled rosa you remember that, Jacky!"

"Well," I said, with a shoulder shrug "That was how you managed to get a jump on me and the whole Noirberg police force. Anyway, just do it!"

Maria winked and crept up the aisle towards the cockpit.

I turned to face Chelle. She trembled and whimpered. A confused clone child turned killer– just another lost soul in the sad portrait of my life.

"So," I said, placing my hands on her shivering shoulders. "I'm no good at sentimentalism, but you did what was right, kid."

Did I…?" she sobbed, "I killed my father," while looking at her smooth hands.

"He wasn't…" I said softly but I caught myself.

She grimaced but nodded, sniffing through her tears. A perceptive girl she was.

"I didn't get to know my father much, but I loved him." I said.

"... I see" the girl said as her tear stained eyes set on me.

"His name is George Blunderbuss. The worst detective in the city. He went missing when I was half your age," I said, half smiling. "It's painful to lose a father. And it still is, now that I see a girl crying for the same reason."

A click followed by a maniacal laugh echoed from behind me, the dreaded reverb of an annoying and insufferable man.

"Oh that'sa who you are, you little detective? I can do you the favor of reuniting your father and you…in the depths of HELL!"

Chelle let out a shriek. I didn't need to be a hardboiled detective to know who stood behind me, but I turned around anyway.

A disheveled looking Mica Angelo had managed to survive his brush with death. But he sure needed a hairbrush. His hair frizzed madly in the wind, blowing his comb-over aside. His mustache too was worse for wear, frayed and jagged like a mad scientist on the brink of a breakdown. He pointed his own revolver at me. The black pupils in his eyes had dilated to the form of question marks

Where had I seen this strange phenomenon before? What kind of astigmatism caused your eyes to be shaped like question marks? Enigmatism?

"Blunderbuss," he exclaimed in his heavy Little Roma accent. "You may have ruined my high art scheme, but I will ruin you!"

I stepped in front of Chelle, protecting her from her maker's wrath.

What could I do? My magnetizer was broken. And I was not within range to kick him.

"This is the end for you, leetle detective," he cried. "The final elbow!"

He drew us back down the aisle, cornered like the market on one of Angelo's paintings. He spiraled the bullet into the chamber and gloated. "I never should have doubted the power of the Querion. It eez unlimited! I never woulda imagined it would save-a my life and bring a sticky end to my enemieeeeees…!"

Suddenly, the plane turned titled sideways and took a sharp turn. Everything from the food and glass beverages to our bodies flew in the air. Mica crashed into the side of the window.

Momentarily stunned, Mica’s body lay on top of two seats. This was my chance. I slid on my metal leg and before he knew what hit him, my leg did. Straight in the noggin too.

He tumbled backwards, his revolver rolling on the floor. I dove, seized it and pointed it straight at the felon's head.

"I never thought I'd say this," I smirked as he raised his hands. "But thank Maria for her lousy flying!"