The motorcycle drops out from underneath them when it reaches the cliff's edge, falling down, down, down into the water that will soon become their temporary grave. It's a simple matter of physics that sees them propelled through the air, but in the moment -- past or present, he isn’t sure -- Bucky's convinced it's sheer adrenaline. He hits the plane with enough force to knock him breathless, his left hand finding purchase on the fuselage, while his right arm rests flat on the wing.

"Got it!"