"Operations," a crisp, professional voice answered immediately on the other end of the secure line.
"This is Nyra Vance," she spoke, her voice clear, composed, and laced with absolute, unyielding authority.
On the other end of the line, the operator's breath hitched, a wave of immediate, panicked deference flooding through the speaker. "Ms. Vance! We are connected, ma'am. How may we assist you with your flight?"
Nyra glanced out the oval window, watching the golden sunlight dance across the pristine expanse of clouds outside. A faint, knowing smile touched the corners of her lips, her eyes shining with cold brilliance.