Victor Chevalier, leader and founder of the UN's Raven Unit, descended the short staircase of his private yacht with a subtle smile.
In one hand was a sleek black briefcase adorned with silver accents. The other cradled a crystal glass filled with whiskey and a spherical ice cube. He strolled over to and leaned against the guardrail, taking in the breathtaking view of the setting sun casting a golden hue over the iconic Eiffel Tower. The bronzed structure stood tall against the backdrop, a sight that never failed to captivate.
The tranquil symphony of waves blended harmoniously with the ambient music and the crowd's lively chatter as Victor indulged in a sip of his whiskey. This wasn't a typical party, but the Chevalier Yacht was known for offering its tourists a unique glimpse of Paris. A sly chuckle escaped Victor as he caught the attention of a woman dressed in a captivating red gown that accentuated her curves. Her fiery red hair added to her allure by catching the sunlight at an angle before giving a playful wink. Victor reciprocated with a teasing smirk, leading to her flirty giggle.
Amid this fleeting connection, Victor's serene ambiance was disrupted by a series of beeps emanating from his phone. With a raised, slender eyebrow, he retrieved his phone from the inner pocket of his impeccably tailored suit jacket. The new notification demanded his immediate attention, though it arrived sooner than anticipated.
RAVEN
Victor tapped the message, revealing the unexpected sender's message: Tatyana and I are in Kobe. You available for a drink and some casual conversation?
Unable to hide his smirk, Victor replied promptly. Of course, but try not to wait for long.
Always fashionably late, Victor. We'll be at the New Moon Bar.
As some say, I'll be there before you know it.
Of course.
Victor returned his phone to its pocket, picked up his briefcase, and headed toward the yacht's rear with a half-filled glass of whiskey. Deftly placing his drink on the tray of a passing waiter, he maneuvered through the bustling passengers before activating an intercom discreetly embedded in his specialized sunglasses to issue a brief command.
"I require my private jet."
"Right away, sir. A jet will reach your vicinity shortly."
"Excellent."
The arrangements were in motion. Victor stood at the yacht's stern, checking the time on his polished silver watch, reading five forty-nine in the evening. Amusing for his standards. Without uttering a word, Victor propelled himself airborne.
Fwoosh.
A streak of cobalt blue flashed as Victor phased into the cabin of his sleek, black private jet. Settling into a plush seat by the window, he watched Paris's city lights transition into a twinkling canvas below before gradually receding in the distance.
The pilot's voice sounded over the plane's PA system. "Where to, sir?"
"Kobe, Japan. I have a small reunion with my top agents to attend."
"Understood."
The jet's engines roared to life, propelling Victor toward his destination with the elegance and precision that matched his exquisite taste.