The Maya 1.8
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.
Eugenio Stavros, shipping magnate, receives his female guest, Amara Barclay, aboard his super yacht. They are longtime friends and would be lovers if Stavros had his way. Barclay is an independent woman whose playground is the world, so she wants no attachments. Yet, she calls him up nearly pleading to see him. Stavros can't say no, even though he is on his way to an important negotiation to renew a contract with the Sutton Steel Corporation on the uncharted Isle Of Use. Amara has just asked about the strange place, to which Stavros says, "It's the best kept secret in the world."
And now, the next installment of The Maya.
"But you found out about it. Others must know."
Stavros nodded. "Sutton Steel reached out to us. They were expanding and wondered if we might be interested. They invited us over, provided transportation, lodging, the works. There were plenty of businessmen and trade delegations there three years ago. From what I saw of the steel operation up close, plus other mining and manufacturing endeavors in passing, trade's booming there."
"Incredible. It just seems impossible, in this day and age, a place could be so..."
"Isolated?"
"That's a good description."
"I think it's part of their brand." Stavros paused, furrowed his brow. "No, it's more than that. It's protection and security, too. They're under bidding everyone, including Taiwan and the rest of the Asian Pacific Rim. We had to sign a non-disclosure agreement just to see their operations."
"Then, I should feel fortunate I'm even allowed to go. Since I'm here, I'm guessing you got permission."
"Oh, yes," Stavros said, "As I told you, security to the island is very strict. I've heard of others who tried adding passengers at the gate, and not only were they denied, the company they worked for was put on a five-year probation."
Amara's eyes widened. "Business must be good. Really good."
Stavros nodded. Amara had a few corporations of her own, including a line of custom jewelry, and a modeling agency to present them with. "You probably should check into it while we're there. There might be something for you."
He could see Amara's mind working. "You said they have mines."
"You might even get them to make your pieces, too."
One of the crew members stuck their head in through the door. "Sir, we're about to dock."
"Good. The lady's bag is on the flight deck. Make sure it gets on board our plane."
"Yes, sir." As the man hurried away, Stavros said, "We've got a long flight ahead of us."
Amara sighed. "Tell me the itinerary again."
"Lisbon, New York City, then Eugene, Oregon."
"Eugene?"
"Yeah. Not exactly an international hub, but as I said on the phone, there's only one plane going to the island today, and that's where it will be."
Stavros stood. He held out a hand to Amara, who took it, and he helped her up from her chair. They exited the restaurant from the opposite side they entered, and strolled to where men were lowering the gangway.
"And the plane we'll take to the Isle of Use is unmanned," Amara said.
Stavros looked down at her. He didn't have to much. He was just over six feet, but she was only two inches shorter. Teasingly, he asked, "Nervous?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, no. Why should that concern me? A robotic aircraft flying an unknown course over one of the oceans?"
"It doesn't help I can't remember which direction we flew last time," he said, scratching his head. "It seems like it was a short flight, though. We flew out of Miami that time."
"How long?"
"About two hours."
"No pilots, no attendants, no gate crew..." Amara looked up at him coyly as she placed a hand in the opening of his unbuttoned shirt and stroked the hair there.
Stavros got her meaning. It caught him off guard. She, making advances at him? This was new. Maybe something had changed. He thought about keeping some information to himself, then decided against it. She'd be disappointed when she found out, if she truly meant what she said about being alone with him.
"Sorry, milady, but we'll have two more on board. That's why there's a flight out of Eugene. A Japanese contractor is nearby on business and he has his companion with him."
"Oh," Amara said, "Pity."
Stavros went to help her step onto the gangway, but she ignored his hand and bounded up by herself. Once across, she took off her flip-flops and ran to the waiting limousine.
Stavros smiled as he watched her from behind, a body in motion. Then, he sighed.
Some things don't change, he thought.
***
"This can't be right."
For the fourth time in the last five minutes, George Kirkegaard checked his map, his scrawled directions, then went back to the map. Instead of a neighborhood filled with homes, he was sitting in front of a private airport several miles out of Eugene. He passed it twice, once, thinking the address was farther down, and second, thinking he'd missed his destination before it. Now, he was back at the airport, trying to find address numbers on the side of a building.
This was the right road. He'd made every turn correctly. Unless his friend Jim and his family lived at a small airfield, something was terribly wrong.
It wasn't quite twelve-fifteen. Despite his circling, he was still early, but if he had somehow misunderstood directions, he might not have time to locate his true destination before Jim's deadline. He'd been so oddly definitive about the time. Kirkegaard checked the address again, found the road on the map and followed it across. There was no other way to go as the road ended before entering town.
Throwing up his hands, he dropped the map and small pad of paper into the passenger seat and entered the parking lot.
The airfield had one small building made of brick, and another constructed of metal somewhere behind it. The second building, Kirkegaard guessed, was probably a hangar. On his initial passes, he saw the runaway, a single strip with loops to and from, which would allow a plane to get closer to the first building. A terminal? There was a tower of sorts, with a red flag hanging limply overhead, but little else to mark its use.
Author's note. 'The Maya' is the working title of a previously unpublished personal work-in-progress. If interested, you can find the other seven installments here:
1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4 1.5, 1.6, 1.7.
Publication Of The Maya Is Changing
Starting next week, Monday, March 5, 2017, portions of The Maya will start dropping every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. This is a change from the last month's schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays. In doing so, I hope to bring you more of the story each week.
Copyright © Glen Anthony Albrethsen, 2014-2018. All rights reserved.