St. Vincent and the Grenadines
Mustique Company Private Airport
"Hey, Ray?" said Peter, peering out the small plane's window as it rolled towards the end of the runway. "The natives are restless."
"That's not funny, Peter."
"No, seriously, have a look."
Ray squinted out the window himself. A party of about twenty people had gathered near their jetway. Several of them were carrying what looked like protest signs. "That's weird," he commented. "Anti-American protests, you think?"
"Ray, this is one of the most exclusive private resort islands in the hemisphere," Egon commented from his seat. "I doubt those signs read 'Yankee go home'. This is something else."
"What do you-"
"This island and at least six others in the Grenadines, not to mention five others elsewhere in the Caribbean, have all been plagued by massive supernatural activity in the past year, spiking in the last several weeks. The area has no coordinated anti-paranormal response plan of any kind. If anything, they're probably demanding to know why we're only showing up now."
"I don't think it's that simple," muttered Winston. "Check 'em out, guys, they're all old..."