Maya 1.10
Previously On The Maya...
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.
Eugenio Stavros—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.
Still at the small airfield, George Kirkegaard sees a luxury jet land and goes inside the terminal. No one is there, but some people are waiting outside. He stumbles upon a kiosk that identifies him via drivers license, takes his thumbprint and retinal scan, then issues him a plastic card with a chip. While this is happening the jet takes off, replaced by another one. The people outside start for the new jet.
And now...the next installment of The Maya.
Kirkegaard grabbed his bag and went to follow suit. A buzzer sounded just before he reached the double doors, and one of the portals opened outward. He ran through and onto a deck. As the jet taxied to a stop, the main hatch opened and a thin staircase extended out, touching ground a second after the plane became stationary. The first couple—Asian by the looks of it—boarded, followed by a second man and woman. Their nationalities weren't quite as evident, but both were darker in features and taller. The second woman was particularly striking, what he could see of her from behind and a hundred feet away.
The clothes of the Asians and the darker male ranged from formal to casual business attire. With a T-shirt and jeans, Kirkegaard felt under dressed when he looked at them. The darker woman, though, wore a Crimson-hued one-piece swimsuit, and while it covered her torso, it left little to the imagination. She made him feel embarrassment in a different way.
All four disappeared within the private jet, leaving Kirkegaard alone and trying to catch up. He didn't think any of them knew he was there, as none of them looked back before boarding. He half expected the stairs to retract before he reached them, but they stayed in place long enough for him to mount them and enter.
The interior of the jet was even more incredible than the outside. A light shag carpet covered the floor, walls and ceiling. There were fourteen extra wide seats, paired together on the left side, with several feet between the rows, and two-or-so feet between each pair. All the seats sported a supple black leather with mahogany arm rests. In front of the first bank of chairs was a small desk with a color computer monitor on it.
The Asian couple were seated in front, while the second couple sat on the other end. Kirkegaard saw surprised looks by both pairs, and immediately felt self-conscious again. Did they really not approve of his clothes that much, or was it something else? He nodded to the Asians and gave a slight wave to the others, who he still couldn't guess origins. His bet was European, maybe along the Mediterranean.
Choosing the couple of chairs in the exact middle, he mimicked the Asians and stowed his bag under his seat, and then buckled himself in. No sooner had he done so, then the plane rumbled to life. Startled, Kirkegaard looked forward, saw the hatch closing. Then, he realized there was no door leading to the cockpit. Instead, there was a wall-to-wall white piece of material, which was probably a movie screen. If the Asians were concerned by the lack of pilots or attendants, they did not show it.
Kirkegaard pivoted and looked aft. There were signs indicating bathrooms on either side of the plane, but that was it. Then, his gaze fell upon the darker woman, who was already looking up at him. She wasn't troubled there was no one flying the plane, either. Instead, she smiled, an amazing, brilliant smile, the likes of which he had only seen once in his life. He stared back for a little too long, saw the man she was with follow her eyes, and then Kirkegaard turned back around.
A few seconds later, the jet was airborne.
***
It wasn't long before Kirkegaard heard a chime. Simultaneously, words and pictures appeared on the white screen. Instead of projected, they seemed to grow into place from the screen itself, and then they melted away a minute or so later. The information indicated the plane was now at a cruising altitude of 56,000 feet. Since there would not be any turbulence for the duration of their flight, lasting precisely one hour, nineteen minutes and seventeen seconds, if passengers wished to unbuckle and move around, they were welcome to do so.
Kirkegaard found consolation in the fact the flight would be short. That still left plenty of other things to figure out, chief among them, where he was headed. He assumed the other passengers knew, but he felt foolish asking, "So, anyone know where we're going?" In truth, he didn't know if any of them actually spoke English. He was too far away to hear their hushed conversations and he certainly didn't want to be caught eavesdropping.
Kirkegaard felt frustration welling up inside him again. He didn't need the condescending stares of his fellow passengers, and he didn't appreciate being kept in the dark. Why would Jim do this to me?
He decided to move over to the window seat to get his bearings. They were over the ocean, no land in sight. Kirkegaard sighed. He hadn't expected that. Unless they veered inland, the only other option he could think of was, they were headed for some island. But where? Hawaii was more than a eighty minute flight. On a whim, he'd checked it and other destinations over a year ago, when he was still in business and contemplating a vacation. No stop in the middle of the ocean matched what he knew of the Pacific and normal flight time.
Kirkegaard closed his eyes, lips curling. He balled a fist and pounded the wall. I don't need this, he thought. I really...
"Do you mind if I join you?"
'The Maya' now publishes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the evenings (PST).
Copyright © Glen Anthony Albrethsen, 2014-2018. All rights reserved.
'The Maya'
like this all of @steemians are sited for listen the story of 'MAYA'....
@upvoted @resteem