Magma, Chapter 5 – A Sunday Story

Image credit: juuli.s / Twenty20

Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

“Only a true best friend can protect you from your immortal enemies.”― Richelle Mead


Chapter 5

Venomiss (Lady Atherton) opened the bathroom door to a scene of destruction. None of the hotel suite’s costly furnishings stood on their legs.

Shielding Mr. Goldman, Venomiss yelled as she shuttled him to the hotel suite’s main door—”Cover me. Moving!”

In transit, wincing heavily in pain, Mr. Goldman took the time to snatch his white jacket from the floor near the now overturned settee.

Tiny and Alligator scrambled to their feet from their entanglement with four female assailants and charged to Venomiss’ position.

Venomiss with Mr. Goldman at her side and with Tiny and Alligator in the rear—opened the hotel suite’s main door. Then these four souls stepped outside the door into the narrow hallway. Alertly, Venomiss closed the door behind them; however, she kept her keen eyesight peeled, suspicious of the apparently vacant hallway.

Just then…

Three female assailants rushed from the alcove leading to the Emergency Exit, a few steps further down the narrow hallway. They brandished muzzled Luger Glock 19s —the exact gun that Venomiss saw in her dream earlier this morning! Each of the three assailants then took aim and fired…at Mr. Goldman.

Venomiss dropped to the floor, tugging Mr. Goldman with her left arm, as three bullets zinged, whizbang, and twanged past Mr. Goldman’s temple. The ineffective bullets embedded their misfortune into the door frame just millimeters above Venomiss’ head.

Meanwhile, Mr. Goldman’s wound began to bleed on the carpet. He winced, groaned, and grabbed his shoulder in response. Venomiss twirled on the ground keeping her assailants in view.

Then, from a full prone position, Venomiss flipped her entire body upright and landed on her feet (also known as a no-handed kik up). She then sucker-punched the first female assailant, who by now, had charged within arm’s reach of Mr. Goldman’s head.

Immediately the female assailant flopped to the floor, motionless. The female assailant’s Luger Glock 19—already triggered to fire, released the 9-millimeter subsonic bullet exploding from its chamber. The bullet grazed Venomiss’ dinner jacket shoulder pad.

Simultaneously, Rameses Gizufi (aka “Tiny”) dispatched the second female assailant with a roundhouse kick to the solar plexus. He grabbed her Luger Glock 19 and made short work of shifting the gun’s slide, removing the bullet in the gun’s chamber, and expelling its magazine.

Meanwhile, Homer “Alligator” Gantry, the Baton Rouge native, deployed his body as a javelin directed at the third female assailant. Then, following that impact, he bounced on his left foot backing away from his assailant in a move known as stick and move.

The female assailant lost her weapon and her footing as their bodies collided. However, she quickly regained her stance. Now furious, she reached into her belt and unsheathed a seven-and-one-half-inch blade hunting knife. She brandished the knife in her right hand over her head in a carving motion, taunting Alligator.

Alligator grinned. The massive alligator tattoo festooning his entire right hand and arm gleamed in the hotel hallway’s chandeliered lumens as he sized up his opponent with his fists clenched.

Then…Alligator turned as though he was about to run away. And, with his back turned, he landed a crescent kick, surgically extracting the knife from the female assailant’s right hand in seconds. The knife flew over Alligator’a head and fell aimlessly in front of his left foot.

Surprised by the move and now weaponless, the third female assailant fled via the narrow hallway’s Emergency Exit. But not before she commanded her other two companions, still groggy from their trouncing, “Let’s move!”

With that said, her two companions scrambled staggering to their feet. Then hurriedly supporting each other, the three female assailants escaped down the Emergency Exit stairwell.

Run! Cried Venomiss to Mr. Goldman.

Requiring no further encouragement, Mr. Goldman made a quick exit via the private elevator just a stone’s throw away.

Venomiss turned to enter the suite only to discover upon opening the door that the other four female assailants were long gone. They had escaped by repelling down the fourth-story suite’s gaping wall via harnesses built into their bodysuits.

Looking at the now totally trashed hotel suite, Venomiss said tongue in cheek to Mr. Zero and his team—

“Now, this is why we can’t have nice things!”

Everyone laughed—exhaling a sigh of relief.


Unbeknownst to all of them, Lady Cat, Venomiss’ best friend, observed the entire fray, with great interest via secret camera and satellite feeds—feeds to which she had claimed over the years she had no access. Employing a host of trained mercenaries in Malta ready to deploy at her beck and call; yet, Lady Cat offered no aid to her friend Venomiss.

Moments earlier…

Following Venomiss urging, Mr. Goldman dashed inside the elevator. Reaching for his cellphone as the private elevator doors closed, he speed-dialed his most recent contact:

“Hey, Neshema (“loved one/soul”) it’s me… Yes, it’s done.”

“No, I don’t think she suspects. A bit of blood and gore always “sells” a story, especially in spycraft.”


Meanwhile…in the now trashed hotel suite. Mr. Zero answered his cellphone. He did not speak. He listened to the caller and then hung up.

Venomiss inquired, her arms outstretched—noticing her torn jacket for the first time, “Who was that? Normally, you would be strategizing your next move by now, Mr. Zero.”

“Just a wrong number,” replied Mr. Zero, convincingly.

Venomiss nodded and smiled amicably as she grunted while righting the overturned settee.

She plunked herself on the settee with a deep sigh, as if exhausted. However, her actions were meant to conceal her mounting suspicions…about…everything.

Without alerting anyone around her, Venomiss sat musing on the settee. She allowed the scent of gunpowder to envelope her nostrils like a sommelier savors a sip of port. Her burgeoning suspicions grew by the second. She deduced— that from the angle of the gunshot wound, coupled with the distinct odor of gunpowder on Mr. Goldman’s jacket, and his haste to recover said jacket from the floor earlier—that…Mr. Goldman had shot himself!

She suddenly felt like she was in a game of musical chairs and the music had stopped. She was the one left without a seat. She worried…perhaps they had found out that she was not who she claimed to be.

Venomiss stood up from the settee and scanned the room’s debris for her cellphone. Finding it in the rubble, she retrieved it quickly avoiding Mr. Nowhere’s diligent cleanup efforts vigorously sweeping debris to one side of the room.

She dialed without speaking. The call connected. Silence answered.

Venomiss hung up and waited.

Moments later, her cell phone rang. Venomiss answered:

“Can we meet? Yes okay. One hour. I’ll be there.”

Hanging up from the call Venomiss explained, “I am going out for some fresh air. I shan’t be too long.”

“I recommend one of us tag-along just in case?” Mr. Zero offered, with apparent sincerity.

“Oh no. I shall be okay. I will be back shortly. Thank you, my friend.”

Venomiss changed her torn jacket, replacing it with her cedar-colored bulky sweater. Its secret lining had everything she needed for a quick escape (cash, weapons in its underarms, identification, prepaid credit cards, and all fully lined in the latest flexible kevlar.)

Unbeknownst to all else present, there was no one on the line when Venomiss answered her cellphone moments ago. The only sounds, which she understood well—were five short clicks from the other end of the line…

Then Venomiss, the former MI6 double agent considered her options. For the first time, she saw her life with unfettered clarity. It was time for the prodigal daughter… to return home.

Striding to the hotel suite’s door, suddenly, she sensed a strange heaviness in the air. It was a familiar omen from her instincts warning her of impending peril. She had always trusted and obeyed that strange heaviness deep in her gut like scripture to her soul.

In the ensuing eerie silence, Venomiss sensed all eyes in the room painting an invisible target on her head with skull candy, as she turned the hotel suite’s main door handle, and walked over the threshold. She closed that door and left for good.

A few minutes later, following the Emergency Exit stairwell’s ground floor access, Venomiss departed Malta’s finest hotel via the cleaning staff entrance (no cameras there).

Then she wrapped her sweater with its generous folds around her shoulders and set off on foot—breathing in the welcomed cool of Malta’s nightfall.

Suddenly, she sensed a queasy quiver at the base of her skull—she was being watched…through a sniper’s scope…

****To Be Continued Next Sunday****

Published by Suzette Benjamin

Positive thinker, inspirational, writer, faith

46 thoughts on “Magma, Chapter 5 – A Sunday Story

    1. Thank you Sadje. Yes, this is just before the turning point in this psychological spygame.. therefore things are a bit murky…for a moment. More to come…
      Thank you for your great support my friend. Cheers

      Liked by 1 person

  1. took the time to snatch his white jacket from the floor near the now overturned settee.😂

    This looks so funny, this should be performed 🎭 in live theatre. Hilarious, the much loved white jacket.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. 👁however, she kept her keen eyesight peeled, suspicious of the apparently vacant hallway.👁

    Hey I tell you!!!!! , 👀👀

    🚄bullets zinged, whizbang, and twanged past Mr. Goldman’s temple. 
    just millimeters above Venomiss’ head🚄

    😂I just loved the sound effects, they were zinging in my own head.

    😁Alligator grinned. The massive alligator tattoo festooning his entire right hand and arm gleamed in the hotel hallway’s chandeliered lumens as he sized up his opponent with his fists clenched.😁…

    Now i also understand this emoji 😁…grin!!…super imagery accompanied by graphic word and sentence crafting

    👁(no-handed kik up)👁

    Oh i forgot to highlight this karatekamakazu of this girl 😳 !!!!!! earlier

    😂”Now, this is why we can’t have nice things!”😂

    Aye aye captainness, it seems not in your job and profession. But we don’t really know? …. or do we?

    😥yet, Lady Cat offered no aid to her friend Venomiss.😥

    Oh the sword of betrayal makes her appearance, nogal Lady Cat😭😭

    😍Hey, Neshema (“loved one/soul”) it’s me… Yes, it’s done.”😍

    What a beautiful name, I hope she stands by it…
    What us going on😥

    👁sommelier savors a sip of port.👁

    No man such a versatile woman 👿

    ☠Mr. Goldman had shot himself☠


    🌳cedar-colored bulky sweater🌳

    Now which colour of cedar is this one?

    🙏🏼She had always trusted and obeyed that strange heaviness deep in her gut like scripture to her soul.🙏🏼

    Wow, in the underground movement you need a whole lot of this.

    Beautifully told

    The prodigal girl is going home with a bullet poised on her skull…
    No place to hide, whereto from here…???

    Thrilling story telling!!!
    Action packed!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Our heroine’s keen hearing and eyes are life saving talents…essential to the tasks at hand.

      Glad you enjoyed the sounds….I try to bring sensory elements to stories. It doesn’t always work. Glad you liked it in this setting.

      P.S. I ❤️ all your emojies…perfect!! The grin is…hilarious!

      Re: “no-handed kik up”
      –Yes, our heroine’s got skills…only way to ensure longevity in her line of work. I like your word: “karatekamakazu” …excellent!

      Yes, more to come on our heroine and her “job and profession.”
      Betrayal a sword…brilliant! It cuts deeper than sharp objects…Amen!

      “Neshema” is a lovely name/ reference to the relationship between two people. …More to come here…

      Versatile is the name of the game…great point. Still her, senses from taste to smell are both instructor and tools to our heroine…

      The cedar color is akin to the sweater in the story’s photo –‘sometimes known as “navajo red” similar to the colors of bricks.

      Well said, the inner voice…a rudder to the covert specialist/spy’s ark in the perilous floods and raging tsunamis of betrayal and intrigue.

      More to come on the prodigal with her sights set on redemption; while a scope sets its sight on her!

      Thank you as always for your lavish appreciation of the storyline and its accoutrement. You are amazing!

      I appreciate very much your diligent teasing out of the storyline’s fibres.

      Blessings and happy Sunday coffee time to you!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You got those pretty fine tuned. It is so cool to make up one’s own word sounds.

        Lol, most times i don’t know the meanings behind these emojis especially the little faces. I was very happy to make my acquaintance with grin 😁 😀….even though we’ve often seen each, but never made it official.

        Skills for days. As you say, more to come
        Ok that is a beautiful code name

        I thougt that it would be the navajo red and not the silver tones. But then she is way too young to wear that colour of cedar.

        Spy’s Ark, is such a great image and companion as she traverse these terrains.

        You are most welcome. Till next Sunday, for coffee and thriller corner.
        Thank you for the reading hour, and have a blessed Sunday.

        Liked by 1 person

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