T'Challa wheeled on the interloper, the lenses over his eyes flashing gold in the darkness. "You dare? You dare dictate terms to me!" his voice came out in an exhalation of incredulous rage. "These men stopped being your prisoners the moment they entered my nation's airspace."
The blue metahuman bore a certain intensity of his own, which told T'Challa this would likely not end peacefully. It was only his heightened senses which gave him enough time to dodge the gunfire that blasted down the length of the aircraft from behind him. Leaping up to latch onto the ceiling like a cat, he looked back to see the aircraft's occupants had recovered and re-armed. Flipping down through the air, he tumbled in a series of acrobatic moves that brought him within striking distance of one of the gunmen. The Black Panther raked his claws through the weapon, tearing it in half, and unleashed a savage drop-kick against the man, sending him flying backward.