Rated M because I forgot to ask what it should be rated and I figured we could use leeway for sex and violence and gore and swearing and shit.
The full moon, lights from the airport and the illuminated runway all fell upon the sports car parked oddly enough just off the runway itself. A woman waited sitting on it's hood. Her clothing was as black as the car itself. Despite the warm summer air she wore a coat and gloves.
Viera checked her watch hearing the roar of the private jet overheard. Her hair flicked about as the jet's wheels hit the the ground, her unlit cigarette didn't move so much. The Agencies jet squealed along until coming to a stop. Normally the craft was only used for high priority cases and transporting dangerous enemies. And allies.
But it was needed today. Signi just couldn't take regular planes, he would scare the public too much. His mouth was stitched too much.
Unfortunately there had been a spree of high class fire attacks done around the city. Magic was involved, somehow. And that's where Signi's own abilities lay.
Viera didn't bother walking across to Jet, one of the agents aboard would show the man in the right direction. Then they would probably take off once more.