The Sailing - 7 Days of Halloween
Oct. 24th, 2018 09:42 am
I am taking a few liberties, including ignoring that the ship is in motion and larger than the one I imagined for this story. I hope the indulgence is accepted here ;)
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The empty ship was anchored in the middle of nowhere, logistically speaking. Illya Kuryakin had a flashback to his days aboard the Soviet sub on which he had spent more time than he now wished to remember. Thankfully it wasn't the close quarters of a submarine, but the sense of isolation still impinged on his imagination.
Napoleon Solo was nearby, his love of sailing not in evidence aboard the abandoned ocean liner. He looked around the expansive dining room, the tables set for a meal that was never served.
"Illya, do you see anything that might give us a clue as to where everyone went?" He was shaking his head in disbelief that the passengers could have simply disappeared.
"It is a mystery, but not something unsolvable, I am confident of that." At least that's what he said aloud. Somewhere in the depths of his Russian soul there was the slimmest of chances, or a whim of fate… Illya couldn't give words to his foreboding.
The two men approached each other, still perusing the room as they had nearly every inch of the Misty Maiden. It was a privately owned ship, catering to a wealthy clientele. The sailings were not as large as the commercial liners, the ones whose passengers might include middle class voyagers. This ship had a sailing price tag of upwards of fifty-thousand dollars; it was a distinctly limited clientele of the very wealthy, and the crew were vetted and then re-vetted. No one had access to the passenger list except the Captain and the ship's owner.
"Where do two-hundred people go in the middle of the Atlantic? Witnesses saw the ship being boarded by a sufficient number of passengers to suggest they all left port two days ago." Napoleon was perplexed beyond the normal state of confusion regarding the antics of various villainous entities. But how would a kidnapping of that many people be accomplished. There were no signs of aggression, nothing to suggest that any violence or combat had occurred. It was a ridiculously mystifying situation.
Illya thought he saw something in the corner of the room.
"Look, over there…' He pointed towards a small point of light behind a potted palm tree. Napoleon started towards but was stopped in his tracks at the sound of a scream.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Part 2
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