Chapter Sixty-Six: The Fleet
The private terminal at JFK Airport was completely silent, save for the low, powerful whine of four jet engines idling on the tarmac outside. The morning sun reflected off the sleek, pearl-white fuselage of the newly delivered Airbus corporate jet. Painted near the tail in a clean, minimalist gold script was the emblem of the Knights Foundation.
Alexander stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the lounge, looking out at the aircraft with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark tailored trousers. Even in a relaxed, charcoal-grey cashmere sweater, he looked every bit the sovereign commander.
"The flight plan is logged, sir," Harrison said, stepping up beside him with a leather-bound briefing folder. "Six hours to London for the diplomatic briefi
