Those doctors had sold him out. Pallu was back in the old continent where the death penalty swung over his head! All his things were taken and placed in the locker with all the other criminals belongings. The thought of his pendants just sitting on the other side of a cage in an airplane. It simply ticked him off. His eyes scanned over the cage for weak points, but the mild headache he had from the concussions he was frequently getting was making it hard. Though he did see one. He was a skinny guy so they tied his arms behind his back but left his legs free.
"Do you have a smoke?" Pallu asked the guard who grunted, then released one hand off of the shotgun that was fixed on the terrorists torso. The familiar grin went across his face as Pallu kicked his leg up against the gun, blowing the lock on cage. With that he was up, hopping over the cuffs to get his hands infront of him he ran directly past the chest with his goodies in it and clubbed both pilots with his balled fists. After that he kicked the controls and sent the plane to a decline. With the force the case the items was tossed against the wall and broken open, Pallu hanging onto the door was barely scratched.
It wasn't a dignified crawl he made but it was a crawl none the less. Over the door and through the hall of chairs he kept an eye on the guard who was recovering from the random change in direction. Snagging his collar with the tips of his fingers he made a victorious laugh then slapped it on before throwing himself out the door of the plane. Wearing a bright orange jump suit he flailed through the air, his green dreads doing just the same. Then the sound of the wind crashing into the fabric became his parachute.
It was the middle of nowhere but it was a start. He could see a small village that wouldn't be happy to see him after the plane crashed into it. Wasn't every day that a terrorist threw a plane at something, nobody ever liked the terrorist. It pleased Pallu to know most people with dreads would be descriminated against too simply because of Pallu's hair. How foolish.
On contact with the ground the maniac rolled, stood then brushed himself off until the dust was off of his dazzling jump suit. "Great.. no weapons, no dignity." said the crazed man who now strolled into the carnage of fire and death he had accidently caused. "Does anyone have a phone!? I wasn't given my right to a phonecall yet!" Nobody listened, just as well, they would probably throw the phone at him. So rude.