Previously On The Maya...
Amara Barclay sees George Kirkegaard and Paloma at the annual dinner hosted by Tuscon Sutton II and his wife, Lilith. She leaves Eugenio Stavros talking steel to greet them at their table. After some small talk, a couple who are supposed to be sitting at the table where Kirkegaard and Paloma are wish to take their seats, but Amara doesn't want to leave. A couple ushers appear asking her to return to her own table but she won't go. In doing so, Amara makes a scene which brings Stavros to her aid, only to be rebuffed. She wants to sit with Kirkegaard and Paloma.
A hush comes over the crowd, as a woman's voice addresses Amara. It is Lilith, and she asks Amara and Stavros to join them at their table, along with Kirkegaard and Paloma. Tuscon says he will get the last two and race his wife back to their table.
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—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.
As Lilith led Amara away, Stavros in tow, looking dazed, Kirkegaard rose to his feet and took Paloma's hand. "Why does this feel like we're moving to the adult table?" he asked, after leaning over to speak in Paloma's ear.
"Probably because we're out of our league," Paloma smiled.
"Again," Kirkegaard said. He was speaking strictly for himself, however, as Paloma was quite capable of fitting in anywhere. In just the few minutes they had been sitting there, he was amazed at how much she knew about a host of different topics, and how she knew just the right questions to ask when she didn't. The more he listened to her, the more he watched her, the more he felt like he wanted to be with her.
"A word." It was Agent Smith. He'd finally removed his cowboy hat and was standing next to Kirekgaard. He peered in the direction Lilith had taken Amara and Stavros to make sure their conversation was not being seen by either of them. "I don't know if I like this development, putting Miss Barclay so close to the Suttons, but we'll have to roll with it now. Do you have any questions about what we talked about earlier?"
Up until twenty minutes ago, when the next set of table mates arrived, Smith had been running through scenarios with Kirkegaard and Paloma. Mainly, the couple were to engage Amara in conversation and listen to her responses. The more they could keep her nearby and occupied, the better. Smith said he didn't know if she would try anything here, or not, but the less she had to herself, the better.
"Keep her engaged, don't let her out of our sight," Kirkegaard summarized. "We'd better get going."
"Good luck," Smith said.
# # #
"Ah, Mr. Sutton," President Talford said, as Sutton arrived at their table. "Out mingling?"
"I've only got a moment," Sutton said, gripping Talford's shoulder, "Or I might be in violation of the dinner rule!" That solicited light laughter, which he waited to die down, before he added, "I'm here to steal away part of your table, Theron."
"Oh, yes, the selection," Talford said, eyes widening with mock prestige and mystery.
"Who will it be, then?" asked Talford's wife, Cali.
"I'm afraid I'm collecting Agent Simmons," Sutton said, pointing at the secret service man. "Which means, I'm stealing your daughter, too."
Simmons looked at Haley, who had a hand over her face. Other than shocked, she looked delighted to be chosen.
"Good choice, good choice," Talford said, "Get going, you, two." Then he indicated he wanted a word with Sutton. "I should tell you that the Barclay woman is under watch by the IPB."
"Of course, she is," Sutton said, patting the President's shoulder. "Thanks for the heads up."
Sutton then held out his arm to Haley, who took it, and then grasped Simmons in a similar fashion, so that she walked between both men. As they headed for Sutton's table, those around them smiled and applauded.
"Quite the procession," Sutton said. He rolled his eyes, and looked genuinely sheepish. "It adds a bit of spice, I guess."
Not knowing what else to say, Simmons nodded, and stole a glance at Haley. She was beaming. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "This your first time at the Sutton's table?"
"Without my Dad," she said, laughing.
Simmons couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. He also started to relax. Maybe it would be possible to enjoy the evening.
# # #
The Maya watched as Lilith Sutton took her selected guests back to her table. As advantageous as it would have been to be among the chosen, The Maya already had all she needed. Thanks to a specially prepared glove, she had Sutton's full right hand of fingerprints, including the all important thumb. She also had a retinal scan from a device she wore as a pair of colored lenses. She was positive Sutton did not suspect a thing, as the scan had been made in the literal blink of an eye.
While shaking Sutton's hand, she had also gotten a tiny blood sample, no more than a pinprick. Again, another high-tech gadget, this one in her ring, which actually cauterized the small wound on contact. All that she was lacking was a swab of saliva, but she had already chatted up a couple of the male waiters, who she pit against each other to see who could be the first to bring her one of Sutton's drinking glasses. The waiters were eighteen, thus easier to manipulate than their older counterparts, but had still taken some doing. Men just did not seduce easy around here!
With all things going so well, The Maya wished she could get away from the dinner now. However, her intent was to induce a food allergy attack somewhere between courses, so she could discreetly escort her business companion out. Then, she would ditch him and make her way to the fertilizer plant. She meant to accomplish this sometime after Sutton finished his speech.
Something else she was counting on—The Eastern Star was already part way up the river, headed toward the falls. There, it would turn around and make the return trip, while couples danced under the moonlight. She meant to leave the yacht near the fertilizer plant, have the main facility ready to trip and be back on the yacht as it came back around. A push of a button would take care of the rest.
'The Maya' publishes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Copyright © Glen Anthony Albrethsen, 2014-2018. All rights reserved.