“…that’s correct reservations for twelve at nine o’clock.” Jilleen spoke into her smart-phone outside on the flight-line waiting for the raptor while it fueled up. High above and at a distance toward the city, aerial formations were flying over-head in honor of the late Prime Minister. “We will expect your best servers …” BOOM! She was interrupted.
Jilleen looked up and caught a glimpse of a flash coming from one of the vipers in formation. “Uh-oh,” came out of her mouth as she watched the fighter twist in the air trailing dark smoke. She disconnected from her call. “Dear Hera, have mercy,” she prayed for the pilot.