The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dull, grey concrete stretches out as far as I can see, like, a huge empty runway or something. The air's really still, no wind at all, and it smells like... gasoline, I think. A small, beat-up plane's just sitting there, somehow slowly taxiing forward, despite its engines being totally silent and still, uh, no fuel lines or anything. The sun's a tiny dot in the sky, right at the horizon, so it's probably early morning or something.