Two weeks after Proten #5 ...

“She’s not even coming?!” exclaimed Dylan, repeating back to Kimona what she had just told him.

“Yeah, but hang on, it’s only because of Terri. She’s being discharged today and she wants to be there for her.”

“That’s all well and good but you’re being interviewed for the News tonight publicly apologising. I just feel she should be there supporting you. Showing a united front.”

“It’s fine, Dyl. Honestly. I was hoping that too but Terri needs her and I guess the news of her going home will hopefully be better news and over shadow the crap I’ve got going on. You’ll be with me anyway. And that’s all I need,” she smiled warmly, but Dylan could see her nerves.

Dylan sighed. No amount of protestation to Kimona was going to get The Secretary to Miami to support her, and he didn’t want to make her any more anxious. “Of course I’m here. We’ll get today out of the way and then you can get back to normal again.”

“Normal? The normal where I don’t have enhancements or the normal where I have enhancements and I’m not worrying about what people think of me?” she asked rhetorically, laughing. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, fixing her last earring.

“Yeah, does my tie look ok?”

“Here,” she approached him, reaching for the tie. “Let me just adjust it a bit… There, all done. You’re looking fly now.”

Dylan’s cell vibrated in his breast pocket. “Sorry,” he apologised, getting it out to read. “It’s Pan, I’ll get back to him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m here for you today, you’re my priority now.”

Dale appeared at the front door. “The car’s here now guys. We’re set if you are.” Dylan took Kimona’s hand gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“We’re set,” she said bravely.

The car slowed down to slip into a parking bay on 21st Street alongside Collins Park in the Miami Beach area. The interview hadn’t been publicised and so the camera set up in front of the Art Basel sculpture only attracted the attention of curious dog walkers.

Dale led Kimona and Dylan over to the statue where morning news anchor Monica was waiting with her camerawoman and her producer. The five colour blocks that made the statues stood out beautifully against the cloudless blue sky. Monica spotted the trio approach and she waved warmly.

“Kimona, good morning. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Monica,” she introduced, extending her hand.

Kimona reciprocated, and they shook hands. She recognised Monica from the news with her husband. She seemed pleasant enough on telly and seemed to be positive about what she did, so she was glad the bosses at The Collective had arranged for Monica to be the one doing this.

“It’s nice to meet you too. This is Dale and Dylan.” Monica shook hands with them both. “So, I imagine you have specific things you need to say, but we’ll keep this quite casual- a conversation. It won’t be live, so we can just roll again if we need or if someone wants to interrupt,” she said eyeing Dale, who was here to act in Kimona’s interests. Monica continued, “we’ll cover that morning you resurfaced, the events in the square and then what happened on the road, and I’ll ask about the emotional impact it has had on Hania and yourself yadda yadda yadda.”

Kimona was a bit taken aback by Monica’s casual attitude of the content of this interview but went along with it. “We’ll start soon before the crowds get wind of what’s happening and appear. Nothing worse than vultures.”

The camerawoman, named Jade, mic’d up Kimona whilst Monica sorted herself out. When the filming started, Dale and Dylan hung about behind the camera a little distance away, but within earshot. The producer was stood next to Jade as she aimed the camera.

“Hello and welcome to this special interview. I’m Monica and I’m joined with Kimona Jones. You may recognise her as Agwé, one of The Enhanced Beings Collective’s newest recruits. A British national, born and raised in the nineteen tens, she attempted the world record for first female to fly across the Atlantic to the Caribbean, until she encountered a storm. Fast forward to 2029, she washes up on the shores of Truumdale. Bewildered, scared and with new extraordinary strengths. Sadly, her attempts to seek shelter and understand the new world she found herself in, resulted in the death of three members of the Bashir family on the school run. Mother, Hania Bashir was not on that journey and has filed for a private prosecution against Ms Jones for causing the deaths of her husband and two children. Kimona joins us this morning to speak exclusively about that day.”

“Aaaaand cut!” the producer called out. “That was great, Mon. We’ll just reset the camera and Kimona, we’ll start the interview. Don’t look at the camera, just look at Monica, got it?”

Kimona just nodded, her throat having completely dried up.

Jade gave a thumbs up and they resumed. Kimona talked about waking up on the beach, and how she felt, and the showdown in the square just before she crossed the main road.

“So talk me through what happened when you saw that car come towards you?”

Kimona inhaled sharply. What a silly question, she thought. She did her best to answer it but her attention had turned to Dylan who started taking a call on his cell with a concerned look on his face. At one point he locked eyes with her but didn’t want to distract her midsentence so looked away.

“What do you want to say to Hania Bashir who claims you carelessly killed her family, fleeing the scene without a care?”

Ouch, that was direct. “Well I completely understand why she would feel that way. However, like I said earlier, I wasn’t me. I had no idea where I was or what I was capable of and why I was being chased,” Kimona explained. “Besides not really having any awareness of what was coming towards me, I thought I was dead. I froze with fear and thought I was going to be killed. I had no idea that what happened would have happened. I wholeheartedly offer my sincerest apologies about their loss and not a day doesn’t go by where I don’t think of what happened and use that as motivation to do right by people. My inability to use my enhancements cost lives that morning.” At this point, she noticed Andy the producer take a call. His look was one of dilemma, a look of being torn by some choice.

She looked over at Dylan who was whispering intently into Dale’s ear and looking out towards the ocean. Nevertheless, Kimona continued. “My goal has since been to be better and do better.”

“And what do you say about calls to have you sent back to England. Do you feel deserving of a place on The Enhanced Beings Collective?”

Kimona stared blankly at Monica. “Look, I’d go if I have to, if it makes sense for me to go back. If the American people agree that I should do that. England now is not the England I know but I’ve made America home, I can do the same in England, I’m sure,” she said rather indignantly.

“And cut! I’m sorry Monica, Kimona.”

“What is it Andy?” Monica asked a little frustrated.

“There’s an incident happening just off the coast and we have a good chance of covering it.”

“Is this Ron Palmer’s thing?” Dylan asked, stepping forward.

“Yes.”

“What’s happening Dylan?” asked Kimona, confused but equally relieved for the interruption.

“Billionaire Sir Ron Palmers triggered his May Day signal a few miles out from Miami.”

“Right, so have the Coastguard gone?” Monica asked, interested in this new opportunity.

“They will be, but Kim, they’re going to need us. The threat is… beyond their capabilities. We need to fight fire with fire on this one.”

Kimona knew exactly what he meant, and she nodded in confirmation.

“And I think,” Andy started, “that coming along and filming this would be good to turn your bad press around.”

“Bad press?” Kimona asked, stunned by the statement. Granted, it wasn’t a great position to be in, but she wouldn’t have thought it was completely bad press for her. There were extenuating circumstances.

“Well what I think Andy means, is this is an opportunity to remind people how great you are an that what happened in Truumdale was an unfortunate accident, and a private prosecution of you is not in the public interest.”

“It was an unfortunate accident, Monica!”

“Exactly Kimona!” Monica agreed.

“Look, we need to go Kimona,” Dylan interrupted impatiently. Dale threw Kimona a back pack which she caught easily. “The water’s that way,” he added, pointing in the direction of the beach and ignoring the news team’s presence.

“We’ve got the van on Park Ave,” Andy suggested.

“We’d outrun your van,” Dylan replied bluntly, and with that, the two Enhanceds ran off at great speed.

Monica, Jade, Andy and Dale were left in an awkward silence for a few seconds, before Dale decided to walk off back to the car.

“I’m still rolling,” announced Jade.

“Great, get to the van then. We’ll er… try to catch up,” Monica decided, and there scurried off with their kit.

Kimona and Dylan tore across the sand towards the surf, Dylan still in his suit and Kimona still in her heels, pencil skirt and blouse. The backpack was gripped in one hand still. It contained her Agwé suit, which was always with her where she went.

“You got me?” shouted Dylan on her left.

“Just keep running!” He had faith in her, so pushed on. True enough, Dylan met water and just kept running. On water. He whooped and hollered, a huge smile on his face as he looked down at his feet running on water!

Kimona submerged under the water and moments later came back up, now in her suit. The pair ran on the water, each footstep kept up by Kimona’s manipulation.

“You know where we’re heading?” Agwé asked.

“Yeah, just a bit southerly. The yacht cannot be missed, it’s beautiful!” Dylan promised.

He wasn’t lying. The little blip in the distance grew into the most magnificent luxury boar- the latest Envy model from Admiral, a seventy metre behemoth in matte grey. It looked relatively calm and peaceful, but Flip and Agwé knew the case to be otherwise. They gave a thumbs up to the overhead Coastguard helicopter keeping an eye on it.

Flip skipped onto the back of the yacht, crouching and keeping low. He took his tie off and loosened his top button. Agwé slipped into the water and silently signalled that she’d do a circuit around the yacht. She returned moments later.

“Ok, no below water transportation and no interference on the underside,” she whispered, slipping up on to the deck. “Can you hear anything?”

“No but they could be anywhere on this boat. It’s huge.”

“Let’s go in. You start up on the top deck and upper deck?” suggested Agwé. Flip didn’t hang around and leapt up perfectly and silently, leaving Agwé to prowl the interior of the lower deck and main deck. The May Day signal had gone off seven and a half minutes ago. They had to act fast.

One by one, Agwé searched the four rooms off the corridor she was in, each one empty. Nothing but an unmade bed in one of the rooms. The door at the end took her into an open plan area with a staircase on her immediate left. But it was what was strewn out in front of her that shook her to her core and brought bile to come up into her mouth. Footsteps coming down the staircase panicked her a little.

“Don’t come any further!” she growled,

“Chill, it’s me!” Flip replied coming round the spiral staircase.

“Get down here now,” she said. “Look at this.” He finished his descent and joined her in front of the bloodbath that greeted them.

Five bodies in various states of dismemberment were scattered across the living space towards the front of the yacht. Their pools of blood drenched the soft furnishings and spread to make one gloopy lake of rouge.

“So that’s gross,” Flip said eventually, walking further into the room. “Are you ok?”

“It’s rank Flip,” she whispered. “What do we do? Are we too late? Is Ron in amongst all that?”

“No, but that’s his wife, and his two sons there and there and there. The others must be crew,” he said guessing, walking around the bodies.

“Who is Ron Palmers? Why would anyone go out of their way to do this?”

“I don’t know, he’s a tycoon in the space leisure and tourism industry. I have no idea who would have anything against him like this. Have you cleared downstairs yet?”

“No not yet. I just got here and… and…”

“I gotcha, let’s check down stairs together. They’re not exactly going anywhere.” The pair walked towards the staircase going down. “Come on, let’s-”

“Ah I was wondering if I was going to get the A-Team or the B-Team turn up,” a confident Scottish voice said from behind them. “And I’m insulted you’re not either A or B!”

They turned to see a figure in a blue grey wet suit looking body armour stood blocking their way. There was something fishy about him, in that he had a dorsal fin attached to his back and mini fins off his ankles. His helmet masked the top half of his face leaving below the nose exposed. The sinister thing that caused most concern in Flip and Agwé was the blades that extended from his forearms. Dripping with blood.

“Where’s Sir Ron?” demanded Agwé, boldly stepping forward.

“And… we’re at least the B-Team!” Flip shot back, feeling offended.

“Downstairs and tied to the masseuse table unharmed. For now.”

“Who even are you?” shouted Agwé.

“Huh, she doesn’t know about me?” he said, looking at Flip surprised. “That’s cute. I suppose I have been quiet lately and you are still probably getting to know everyone. I’m The Blue Marlin, Agwé dear.”

“Well I don’t have time to get to know all murderous… fish… men! We’re here to get Ron back,” she called out.

“Sorry, you’re simply not. You’ve really not heard of me have you? I don’t get paid if he lives. I’m just here to kill him. It’s nothing personal. I’m just trying to get additional information from him before I do. I get paid more, you see if I can get it,” Blue Marlin explained matter of fact.

“We’ll see about that,” Agwé said. “Flip, hold on.”

“What?”

“Tight.”

***

“What do you think is happening down there?” Monica asked Jade in the news chopper they had commandeered.

“I have no idea,” the camerawoman said, not taking her eye off the view finder.

The helicopter hovered over the water, a safe distance from the Coastguard chopper. Suddenly the yacht they were observing shot up into the sea on a plinth of water. It shot up higher than the helicopters watching it were. The pilot of the news helicopter banked sharply out of fright for the unexpected.

Once it stopped climbing, the boat over turned until it was upside down. A closed fist of water formed around the yacht, and started to shake it, as if the hand was shaking a can of soda. It lasted a few seconds, before stopping. For a minute or so, it hung there, then the water keeping the yacht up released, sending it free falling. At fifty metres above water, a column of water reached up and caught it, stopping it from falling further.

“Jesus Christ!” Monica shouted into the radio headsets of everyone in the helicopter.

The Coastguard and news helicopter watched on intently as from the back of the yacht jumped two figures, who Monica and her news team recognised as Flip, holding onto Sir Ron Palmers. They fell into the water feet first, disappearing beneath.

The Coastguard helicopter swung into action, hovering over where they splash landed and sent down a medic.

The boat came crashing down into the water breaking beneath the surface, completely disappearing.

“Quick, spin round so I can get a closer look!” Jade said, shifting around in her seat.

They all waited with baited breath for the yacht to come back. It was an agonising wait and seemed to go on for ages.

“Look! Is that it?” Monica said quickly when she noticed a change in the water.

Sure enough, Agwé’s head broke through first as she gradually rose from the water. As she carried on up, it was clear she was stood on the roof of the yacht as that came into view too. She was not alone. Slumped unconscious by her feet, being held by Agwé at the scruff of neck, was The Blue Marlin.

“What a shot!” Monica cried out. “This will look amazing on the news tonight!”

After handing The Blue Marlin over to the authorities, Agwé came to land on the beach. Waiting for her were a huge crowd of civilians and the media, including Monica, Jade and Andy. As Agwé walked up the beach the crowd ran to her.

“You were amazing!”, “You are so cool!” and “We never lost faith in you!” were some of the things being shouted at her.

“Agwé! It’s Monica! You managed to save Sir Ron Palmer! What about the rest of his family? Did the attacker say who they were? Can we get a comment from you after that?”

Agwé stopped and looked at Monica. “I’m sorry for Mrs Bashir. I always will be and the good that I do will be in her family’s memory. But I can’t bring anyone back. I have nothing more to say.” And she walked back into the sea where she disappeared under the water.

***

Kimona, Dylan and The Secretary had met at Sir Ron Palmer’s bedside in hospital. It was the day after he was rescued from his yacht. The Secretary had just arrived and was being told how the pair managed to save him.

“So Kim sent us flying up in the air! She wasn’t lying when she said to hold on tight,” Dylan enthusiastically explained. “We went up so fast, which Fish Guy didn’t see coming and he went flying around. When we got to the top, I had a chance to run down and free Sir Ron who was tied to the masseuse bed which was luckily bolted to the floor. Then we just free fell which made me nearly sick and near the surface I managed to get us to jump out. Did you see how rad it looked on the news, Ma’am?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, yes I did. You both did well. Did he say anything before they put him in this coma?”

“I asked him who did it to him, who wanted him dead. He could just about tell me that the kind of questions he was being asked was about some of the new tech that his company was developing. The only person who’d be interested in that level of detail is his rival, Du Zan. Does the name ring a bell to you?”

“No, no it doesn’t, but I can look into it,” she said. “You’re quiet Kim, are you ok?”

“Yeah… Yeah I’m good thanks.”

“The interview went well, Hania has come out and said she’s going to drop her prosecution against you and thinks you should stay here after all. I think it was just her grief, which I can understand.”

“Of course, so do I. No, I’m glad I can stay, but it’s got me thinking that maybe I should go back to England for a while. Isaac’s always said I can reach out to him, so I’m thinking I might.”

“You’re going to leave?” Dylan asked, shocked by what he was hearing.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know, but I reckon I should try. Maybe I’m meant to be there, and not here.”

“But-”

“Dylan, she’s made a decision, we should respect that,” The Secretary said. She turned to Kimona. “Are you happy with making contact with Isaac then?”

“Yeah, I have already, Ma’am. I fly out in a fortnight.”