The sun had finally begun to rise over the horizon, casting a cold, gray light over the airfield as the helicopters slowly descended. The roar of the rotors died down, replaced by the heavy silence of the morning. The Stuar family stepped out, their clothes torn and faces stained with the soot of the ship's explosion.
Waiting for them on the tarmac was a fleet of black vehicles and a sea of agents. The Director of the FBI stepped forward, his expression grave as he approached King Stuar.
"Sir," the Director began, stopping just a few feet away. "As per the warrant, you are required to come to the office. The President requested to see you personally. This false smuggling with the terrorist and other allegations have already become the biggest news story in the country."
