The Maya 1.7

glenalbrethsen (68)in #fiction • 8 years ago

Previously On The Maya...

The Maya, a ghost-like agent-for-hire, saves The President of the United States during a State visit to Kiev. Six members of the U.S. Secret Service are under investigation, including Lance Simmons, who fought off two assassins, one Iraqi, one Soviet, before The Maya stepped in. None of the agents or assassins remember what happened, however.

Two unidentified members of the U.S. government meet in a dark alley and talk about The Maya's trial ops in Kiev, then their next target—a man named Sutton they are determined to ruin. The mission will be deep dark. Neither man seems to particularly like the other, but for the time being, they are united in their disdain, if not all out hatred, for Sutton.

George Kirkegaard was a small newspaper publisher before he was forced out of business. The former owner, Jim Layton, a man he still owes money to, tries to forgive the debt, but Kirkegaard won't have it. He's been prone to fits of rage ever since losing the business and has always had a particular sense of right and fairness. Layton relents, but invites Kirkegaard to stay with him and his family. Kirkegaard, against his better judgment, tells Layton he accepts their invitation.

And now, the next installment of The Maya.

Eugenio Stavros stood at the helm of his super yacht, Atlantída, as the small helicopter landed on the flight deck. Stavros was on holiday off the coast of Mykonos, where he had intended to stay for at least a month. However, as the principal heir of the late shipping magnate, Cristos Stavros, something had come up, and he was forced to cut his vacation short.

His mind, however, was not on the ensuing trip to the remote Isle of Use, but the woman who would be his companion the entire time.

It was hard not to think of her. Amara Barclay was the most complete woman he'd ever met. Given the circles he walked in, that was saying something. Dark, statuesque and voluptuous, Amara was an earthy goddess, a woman among girls. Any man could find bliss in her arms, were that all there was to her. But Amara was gracious, rich, accomplished, intelligent and vivacious. She would easily outshine any male counterpart not equal to her.

Few were.

At thirty-eight, Stavros was losing any pretense of ever marrying her. They had come close, he thought, nine years ago, but then things changed. Amara exercised her free spirit, her stubborn independence. Why rely on a man, a mere mortal, when she was quite capable of any success she chose to have? She didn't need anyone, and as far as Stavros could tell, she didn't want anyone, either.

With that knowledge in hand, Stavros married his best friend's younger sister, had four children and then, citing irreconcilable differences, divorced. Over the same span, Amara remained single and unattached. He was surprised, then, to receive her phone call twelve days ago. She wanted to see him, she said, catch up. For the first time in years, she was feeling alone, and she just wanted the companionship of someone.

No strings.

Stavros had pondered what she meant since they spoke. He was still pondering it when he saw her drop from the pilot-side hatch of the copter.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. She would be accompanying him on a business trip, and a particularly serious one at that, but Amara was dressed for sun and swimming. While she did wear a one-piece bathing suit, with her curves, it barely constrained her. A pair of sunglasses, a wide-brimmed sun hat, and flip-flops, completed her attire.

She smiled and waved from across the way, then went to a compartment underneath the helicopter's cabin and retrieved a long nylon duffel bag. Stavros studied every one of her angles and movements, until he realized his crew was indulging, too.

"Weigh anchor," he said, tersely. "I've a tight schedule to keep."

Leaving his men scrambling to fulfill his orders, Stavros met Amara halfway across the flight deck. She flung her bag down and then pressed up against him, wrapping lithe arms around his neck. Smelling of a clean, delicate powder and tasting like lemon, she leaned up and planted lush lips on his. The kiss was brief, but it amounted to the most intimate greeting she had ever bestowed on him.

As she retreated, she said in her sultry voice, "It's good to see you again."

"I've been trying to remember how long it's been," Stavros said.

Amara's eyes twinkled. "Just over two months ago, in Monaco."

Stavros nodded. "Right. And before that?"

"Christmas, in Cancun."

"Ah, yes. And before that?"

"We were on this yacht, near the Equator, for Summer Solstice." Amara picked up her bag. "Don't ask me the time before that, because you were married."

Stavros held up both hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to. I was merely pointing out, you're ahead of schedule."

"You were happy to hear from me on the phone." Amara stopped, stared earnestly into his eyes.

"I was. And I am happy to see you now." He grabbed the strap of her bag and gently placed it on the deck. "Who wouldn't be? It was, well, unexpected."

"I told you if I was inconveniencing you in anyway, I..."

Stavros shook his head. He wondered if, after all these years, it was still possible for her not to know what effect she had on people. On him. "You've got me worried about you, that's all."

"Oh." Amara lowered her head, clasped her hands. "That. Did I sound desperate for company?"

"A little," Stavros laughed.

"Call it a new twist, a woman's prerogative." She was smiling as she reached up and touched the tip of his chin. "Or maybe, I just had a really good time in Monaco."

From what Stavros remembered, the two days spent in Monaco were fun, but hardly magical. Certainly nothing out of the ordinary for them. As always, she seemed oblivious to his advances. Instead of arguing with her now, he said, "Yes. That must be it."

She slid an arm into the crook of his and they walked to a small restaurant lounge the Atlantída had on board. Aside from the bartender, busying himself with whatever he could find, the space was empty. The ship was already turning and making for land. It would not take long to reach the marina. From there, it was a short drive to the airport.

The conversation was light. After Stavros gushed over his sons and she showed a growing concern for the health of her adoptive parents, Amara said, "You didn't sound too enthused about this trip we're taking. Is there something wrong?"

"I'm not sure," Stavros shrugged, "My brother seems to think so. I told you our contract for steel is almost done. He's afraid the cost will go up dramatically, pricing us out of the market."

"Has it happened before?"

"This is our first contract with the Sutton Steel Corporation. It was so low a bid, we would have been fools not to take it."

"I went looking for the Isle of Use," Amara said.

"And?" Stavros asked. A look of anticipation crossed his face.

"You know," Amara said, pushing his arm, "It's not on any map. I could only find brief mentions of it in encyclopedias. There's a couple of news articles, but even those weren't very informative."

"It's the best kept secret in the world," Stavros said.