Previously On The Maya...
After making sure Amara Barclay is uninjured in the aftermath of the large series of blasts, George Kirkegaard collects Paloma Reyes and the two go outside to see what's happened. About a quarter mile upriver something is on fire. After asking what it is, Kirkegaard is answered by Tuscon Sutton II, who with his wife Lilith, came up behind them. Sutton informs him that the place that exploded was a fertilizer plant.
Sutton is asked by a security guard to follow him, but Sutton says he's not going to leave his guests. After a discussion, Sutton sends the officer with those who have family working at the plant to help in rescue efforts while he asks everyone else to come in side. Sutton goes to let President Talford know that he is continuing according to custom and that he will keep his daughter safe. Talford is okay with the arrangement, relieved that she and the others are all right. The Suttons and their guests take their leave.
The Maya—a living legend covert operative-for-hire that no one she encounters can remember.
George Kirkegaard—a former newspaper owner forced out of business by state government.
Paloma Reyes—an intriguing woman Kirkegaard never thought he'd see again.
Eugenio Stavros—a shipping magnate on a trip to the mysterious Isle of Use to renegotiate a steel contract.
Amara Barclay—a savvy, independent multi-millionaire entrepreneur and socialite with unparalleled beauty.
Mr. Tic and Mr. Snake—two U.S. government officials running off-the-books dark ops involving The Maya.
And now...the next installment of The Maya.
Getting back on board the yacht undetected was no problem for The Maya. Her acrylic took care of that. After she scooped up her dress, gloves, stockings and strapped pumps from the supply compartment, tucking them away where they could not be seen, she ran back to the cabin where her business companion still rested. There, she removed her helmet and boots, replaced her formal attire, and used a rousing agent to wake her companion up.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, as his eyes fluttered open.
"Not well," he replied, wiping his forehead.
"Should I get the doctor?"
"I'd rather rest a little longer." He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.
The Maya took out another spray dispenser from the utility belt she still wore under her dress, and lightly doused the air above the man's face. Immediately, all of his features relaxed. He would be out cold for another couple hours. The Maya then went to the room's phone and dialed the ship's operator.
"If I could speak with Doctor Wells, please."
"Right away," the operator said, and then the phone was ringing another part of the ship. Within short order, the doctor answered.
After identifying herself as her alias, The Maya said, "He woke up briefly and just wants to rest. Do you still want to see him or..."
"How does he look?"
"Coloring has come back," The Maya said, "and his breathing seems normal."
"If there's any changes, like short of breath, swelling, discoloration, rashes, anything like that, let me know. Otherwise, rest is probably the best thing for him right now."
"Thank you, doctor. I'll let you know if there's any changes. Oh," she added, "Is it alright if I get some fresh air for a few minutes?"
"Of course. There's no reason for you to stay by his side the entire time. The worst is over. If you need to get out, by all means."
"Thank you."
The doctor wished her a good evening then hung up. The Maya went to the door, secured the lock, and went out. Music from the ballroom followed her.
She made her way to the starboard deck and walked along the railing. No one else was about. She wriggled out of her clothes, put on her helmet and boots, and then ripped her dress. She caught a section of it on the head of a bolt that protruded from the nearest railing post, then tossed the rest of her dress, along with her pumps, stockings and gloves, overboard. Completely invisible again, she then walked around to the stern and port side of the boat. She plucked the mini-remote from a pouch and pressed the button.
At first, there was nothing. But as the song the band was playing came to an end, somewhere in the distance, there was a distinct crash. For a heartbeat, nothing followed. Then, she was nearly blinded by the flash of light that ignited the gloom for miles. It was the deafening explosion and accompanying shockwave that threw her back against the outer wall of the ship. Fortunately, the helmet and the acrylic shielded her from injury.
Explosions continued to rip through the fertilizer plant. She could feel each successive blast as she returned starboard. She could hear the screams of some of the guests from inside the yacht as it rocked back and forth. The ground was shaking! The Maya wondered how much the accompanying earthquake would register on the Richter scale, as she came in and perused the ballroom.
Predictably, people were heading toward the side of the explosion, while others remained where they were, visibly shaken, but no one panicked. The Maya watched as The Suttons resisted their security detail, instead, sending some of them off asking for volunteer firefighters to accompany them. The Suttons continued outside, while those who stayed inside began asking one another if they were okay, and then they started looking around at the floor and walls of the ballroom. Everything seemed to be intact.
Presently, the Suttons, immediately surrounded by their table guests, returned and huddled for a few moments. After a brief conversation with President Talford and his wife, Sutton then motioned to just his table guests to follow him and Lilith. They headed to stern, but The Maya knew they would be taking an elevator to the cargo bay of the yacht where a boat waited for them.
The Maya ran back to the starboard deck and followed it down. She passed the piece of her dress, saw it was still secure, and rounded the corner. She was no longer alone. On the port side of the stern, yacht crew members hurried along, looking overboard. She didn't know if they were checking for damage, some other threat, or people who might have fallen into the river, but if they continued to come around, they would find the 'evidence' she had left for them. She ducked into a hallway which led to access to the elevator Sutton and the others were using. She passed it up for the stairs, and descended as quickly as she could.
She reached the cargo area just in time. Sutton and the rest were already boarding. She made her way along the gang planks to the boat, but instead of jumping down where the others were taking places on benches, she dropped onto a raised portion and climbed to the roof, so she could avoid bumping into anyone. The next instant, the boat revved its motors and shot away. With the yacht heading back to sea, and their boat going eastward, the distance between them quickly multiplied.
As she listened to the subdued conversation of the passengers, The Maya quickly took stock of her situation. Her business companion would eventually awake, and she would not be there. Evidence would point to her going overboard—most likely during the explosions. They would search up and down the river, using the last time she was heard from and the speed of the current to determine how much area they should search. They might find articles of clothing, but they would never find her body. They might actually think she was chopped to death by the yacht's giant propellers.
It didn't matter what they thought, as long as they presumed her missing or dead. With their attention diverted, it would give her more than enough time to finish her mission.
'The Maya' publishes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Copyright © Glen Anthony Albrethsen, 2014-2018. All rights reserved.