"That must be it then..."

Rodriguez brought his aircraft about and came to a slight decent, stabilizing at fourth-five thousand and two hundred feet. Even being thirty-one miles out, he could see faintly see the landing strip in the distance. He closely monitored the flight instruments that gauged and dictated the [i]Pandora[/i]'s flight path and orientation, its altitude and speed. Were it not for the many modern mechanical upgrades to the old airframe, it may have likely choked and shuddered, struggling to maintain the improper loftiness and forcing a decent into more reasonable elevation. However now, the aircraft performed it new purpose to his expectations. 

Twenty-four miles out now. Rodriguez eyed the shine of a metallic object off in the distance. The sensor suite to his right in the aircraft's cockpit earlier tracked the obvious aircraft under twenty minutes ago but predicted that its flight path would show no hint of interception. Granted, it had been wrong before and ended up putting pitting him into awkward scenarios he'd rather have been included with. On the positive note, those were rare circumstances and he learned to give his gut and intuition the final say. He noted that the unknown aircraft was that of a F/A-18; certainly a rare quality he himself rarely comes across nowadays, especially since props were more manageable and easier to maintain than a jet. Rodriguez observed the craft for sometime but eventually concluded that, like him, were heading toward the same place.

Unsurprisingly to him, the possibly friendly jet casually dropped altitude and entered into a procedural descent, affixing with the runway of the airstrip. With only ten miles to go, he figured doing the same. Rodriguez slowly decreased [i]Pandora[/i]'s velocity, easing the throttle as to took the plane down to a proper elevation. By now, he had already had his landing beacon lit, informing any individuals it concerned that he was approaching and reducing altitude. With just one mile out and the landing gear lowered, the plane flew steadily at a few hundred feet and quickly dropping as he got closer. Eventually, touchdown. The [i]Pandora[/i]'s wheels skidded and gripped the runway surface with the aircraft's spoilers and auto-braking system roaring  with exhaust propelling ahead of the plane. 

A minute later and the Pandora had safely landed and as directed by Rodriguez to align with the earlier fighter jet from before after confirming two persons present there; one of them seemingly matching the description of Roland Shaw. His contractor. the large plane rolled in and lastly came to a halt. Rodriguez followed procedure carefully and never cut any corners. the loud growl of his two turboprop engines lasted for two minutes before the revolutions of the four propellers, two to each engine, decreased and the loud sound died to a moan and finally a gasping hiss.

Having verified all of his checked, Rodriguez removed the flight mask and intake from his face, prompting a blunt yawn after travelling for several hours. Deciding not to dawdling any longer, he unlocked and slid away the portion of the canopy away, allowing him to exit the aircraft. After climbing down, he rallied to the two individuals before him.

"Roland Shaw, I presume?" he began, "Rodriguez Hefferman, reporting in."