A taxi pulls up to the JFK Airport and Dante steps out of the car, looking unapproachable with his cold detached manner. His green eyes hard with the anger simmering inside him. He runs a hand through his long black hair, pulls it back into a pony tail. He turns around and pays the driver. He then walks into the airport and finds the office for private transport use. He dials a number, speaks briefly into the phone and hangs up. He sits down in a leather chair, and waits. The only show of agitation being that his left leg is shaking slightly. Within 10 minutes, a pilot walks into the room.
"Mr. Novello? Your plane is ready. Please follow me."
The pilot hands Dante a badge to get past security, and leads Dante out onto the tarmac. Dante settles himself in a big cushy leather seat on the plane, and a stewardess hands him a glass of a Novello port. He sips the wine silently when the pilot approaches him again.
"Mr. Novello, we will be arriving in Florence in six hours. We will need to make a stop in Barcelona to refuel."
Dante nods, and the pilot heads back to the cockpit. He sits back into the seat, props up his feet, and swirls the wine in it's glass as the plane takes off.
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