The plane trembled as it tore through the heavy clouds, lightning flashing outside the windows like veins of fire. The storm was relentless, drumming against the fuselage, and the cabin smelled of metal, sweat, and rain-soaked clothes. Adrian gripped the controls, knuckles pale, eyes locked on the horizon. I sat beside him, my heart still racing from what we’d just escaped. Agent Calloway, calm as ever, leaned forward from the back seat, headset on, speaking rapidly into the radio.
“This is Delta One,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “Inbound from sector nine, requesting immediate clearance for emergency landing. I have evidence tied to Operation Orion.”
Static filled the line. Then a crackled voice responded. “Copy, Delta One. Clearance granted. Approach Runway Three. Washington air
