The Maya 1.2

in #fiction8 years ago (edited)

Author's Note: This is the second installment of 'The Maya (working title), a previously unpublished original work-in-progress of mine. You can find the first installment here.

Our Story So Far...

Lance Simmons is an agent of the United States Secret Service. He is on assignment as a part of the security detail for the President of the United States.

Without pretense or warning, Simmons comes under attack by a blade-wielding assassin he first dubs The Ninja. A few minutes later, The Ninja is joined by a second assassin, The Brawler. Both choose to reveal themselves as Leyla Zerjawy, an operative for the Iraqi Intelligence Service's Directorate 14 and Oleg Pavlov, aka Iron Bear, of the near defunct KGB.

While neither trained killer is supposed to be here, Simmons realizes they could only be there for one thing—to kill the President of the United States, with a sniper rifle owned by the Secret Service.

And now, please enjoy the next installment of, 'The Maya.'


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The Soviet took a step forward, while Zerjawy angled toward Simmons' back. Niether of them were packing guns, nor were bothered that he was. Simmons had already wasted three shots on Zerjawy, which meant he only had three left. The Iraqi had demonstrated she could avoid his shots. In the case of Pavlov, he might be wearing a bullet-proof vest. He was bulky enough it was hard to know.

The radio chatter continued. "Timberwolf now on TS."

Timberwolf was the President's codename. TS stood for Tarasa Shevchenka, a boulevard in Kiev. The day before, the President was in Moscow signing the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty. In a little over an hour, he would address Verkhovna Rada, or the Ukrainian Parliament. Since last year, the Soviet Union was dissolving, as State by State declared some level of independence. Ukraine was one satellite yet to determine its fate, but if factions within the nation had their say, it would break away completely.

Simmons couldn't keep his weapon trained on both foreign agents, so he chose Pavlov, which he kept to his left as he moved away from the wall. Pavlov might be wearing protective gear underneath the hoodie, but he certainly wasn't on his head. In the meantime, Simmons was counting on his own vest to keep Zerjawy from gutting him from the front or the back. He would need to use his arms to protect his sides, and he hoped his suit might help with glancing blows. What he needed to avoid completely, were Zerjawy's straight on thrusts.

As he maneuvered, he put his back to the sniper rifle, which set on a tripod before the sliding door. The door allowed access to a veranda with the best view of the street in either direction. He didn't know if the two competing assassins would change their mind, allowing one of them to take the fatal shot while the other kept Simmons occupied, but he determined if he defended himself in front of the sniper rifle, they'd have to go through him to get it.

In his periphery, he saw Pavlov raise the bat up and out, clutched in both of his huge hands. He lowered his head and bellowing, became a human battering ram. So much for subtlety. At the same time, Zerjawy lunged at him, blade glinting as it cut the air. He heard the tear of fabric on his sleeve, felt the razor edge insert between tricep and bicep. A spray of blood spattered his cheek.

Simmons pulled the trigger. The slug found another wall to penetrate, diverted from its intended target by Zerjawy's strike. Simmons barely avoided being bowled over by Pavlov's headlong attack by ducking and rolling. There was a loud clang behind him as Zerjawy's blade came down on Pavlov's bat. Less than a second after wounding Simmons, the Iraqi was already in a position to inflict damage from overhead, which, fortunately for both assassins, meant her blade landed where Pavlov would not be hurt while effectively keeping him from plowing into her.

Eyes flashing, they snarled at each other then pulled away to locate Simmons.

So much for guarding the sniper rifle. Based on the bloodlust his foes were exuding, Simmons figured it wouldn't matter. They were both intent on dispatching him first, then duking it out afterward.

His demise might come sooner than later. Zerjawy's cut had been strategic in nature, snipping tendons and muscles, limiting the use of his right arm. Simmons was able to shoot with both hands, but he was more accurate with his right. The choice to take out Pavlov was still his best move, but it had left him more vulnerable than he was to begin with.

While the assassins advanced on him as one, the radio announced the vanguards' arrival onto the hotel's street. In about two minutes, the President's car would pass. The sniper rifle was loaded and pointed up the street, with the intent of taking out any hostiles who might appear on any side of the barricaded route. Before Zerjawy showed up, Simmons had been searching the gathered throngs for any signs of trouble. If he saw anything and didn't have a clear shot, he was to communicate his findings to the motorcade and ground security forces.

He'd have little chance to do that now. The assassins parted, Pavlov aiming low as he moved to Simmons' left, while Zerjawy raised her blade neck height and rounded to his right. His only chance was to take out Pavlov while avoiding a deathblow. Time seemed to slow. As he dropped to his knees, his finger tightened on the trigger.

There was a loud bang.


Third installment of 'The Maya' will be Tuesday, February 13.

Copyright © Glen Anthony Albrethsen, 2014-2018. All rights reserved.

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He's very dangerous and terrible

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