The flight to Ireland was uneventful.
The helicopters had taken them to the small private airfield outside of New York city, where they boarded a large private jet that would carry them to Cork. From there, they would take a rented helicopter, and in a little over an hour from there, they would land in Ardmore and hopefully make contact with the clan there.
With the length of the flight, the gargoyles would be stone through most of the flight, leaving Matt and Xanatos the only ones awake and landing just before sunset. The humans would vacate, out of self preservation and to protect their hearing from the roars that were part of their waking, then off they would go.
With the exception of some awkward conversations at first, Matt and Xanatos were finally able to find enough to converse about to occupy themselves.
Most of it centering around, of all things, sports. While Matt had an affection for all things New York, Xanatos held his interests further out. It was a lively conversation, some raised voices involved on Matt's side, but it helped pass the time.
They landed at the small Cork airfield a little earlier than planned, thanks to a fast wind helping to push them along, allowing the two men to venture out in search of food before the last leg of their trip.
Food acquired, the two men sat on the lowered stair on the lowered steps of the plane, a white take out box balanced on their knees.
"I hope you have a good cleaning crew," Matt was saying over his box of fish and chips from the small eatery nearby. A cliché, yes, but when in Rome… "With the gargoyles waking up on your plane…all the stone bits and dust aren't going to be easy to clean up."
"They aren't," Xanatos said flippantly. "But I have good cleaning crews that have dealt with it before."
"I'm sure," Matt said. "I hope you pay them well."
"Of course," Xanatos said, almost looking offended. "I pay them well for the cleaning, and extra for the confidentiality."
Before Matt could reply, the last streak of sunlight left the sky and the roars and growls from inside the plane echoed over the airfield, drawing several startled looks from the small crews working there.
Casually, as if nothing were amiss, the two men got to their feet and gathered up the remnants of their meals.
A few moments later, the gargoyles made their way down the stairs. More startled looks and a few surprised crew members later, everyone was aboard the rented helicopter.
"That's the last of it," Xanatos said, as the ground crew loaded the last of the baggage onto the newly fueled helicopter. "Ready?"
"Aye," Garia said, as she settled into the co-pilot's seat and marvelled at all of the lights, buttons, and switches.
Xanatos sent her a firm look. "I know that it's tempting," he said, "but please don't touch anything." He raised an arm and began toggling switches that would start the engines.
Garia nodded, and buckled herself in. "Not to worry," she said, sitting on her hands to avoid temptation. "I am just here to watch."
"Riiiiiight," Xanatos sighed. He should be thankful, he told himself, that Lexington wasn't here as well. One, he could handle, but both technology obsessed gargoyles?
He mentally shuddered at the thought.
"Here we go," Xanatos said, and slowly, they began lifting into the sky.
