The cool March breeze gusted through the window of an antiquated home. Throughout the 30-acre property in Sormoni, Georgia the cries of a newborn child rang. Not much is known about Maya's early life. Raised in a household as the eldest of 3, her childhood consisted of living on a dilapidated farm. Growing up, Maya had been the main caretaker of her two other siblings. Much wasn't known about Maya's father. Word was that he was a farmer. Due to a local militia's call to arms, he had to leave the property, never to return. Her mother rarely talked about Maya's father. Absence was a common theme in Maya's childhood. Constantly working odd jobs with even odder hours, Maya's mother tried her best to make ends meet for her family. Around the age of 9, Maya was taught how to maintain the family farm.

Due to the unfortunate circumstances of the Georgian economy and everchanging weather patterns, the farm was no longer profitable, nor sustainable. Crops began to perish without their mother's presence. Maya was not equipped to deal with the large amount of land, as well as the responsibility that came as a full-time farm hand. She could not maintain this property by herself. The decline in starvation was slow and painful. The mental anguish, even worse.

Now 14 years of age, Maya would notice the faction skirmishes have been brought closer and closer to home. Gunshots and mortar shells could be heard every night. Safety was the main concern for Maya. She couldn't stomach the idea of keeping her family in these conditions. The local village militia had built a small, lightly fortified, bunker beneath the village church. Each week, Maya would spend a day or two sleeping here, on a cold concrete floor. Fear had never crossed her mind, instead doubt had taken its place, though her heart remained protective of those she loved.

Kutaisi was a 2-hour walk, roughly 30 minutes by bicycle. A quaint town Maya would frequently visit. It was the closest thing to actual civilization from her home in Sormoni. Often, Maya would bring Anastasia with her, one of her younger sisters. The two of them would race each other down the roads to the markets. Both dawned large jackets, made by their mother. Each jacket contained deep sewn pockets, perfect for storage.

After a long day of playing within the markets, Maya would return home. Emptying her pockets on the kitchen table, presenting her mother with the loot she had pocketed throughout the day, her mother would be pleased. Often met with much love, Maya would receive praise for her findings, enabling her pseudo-kleptomania. Theft was never Maya's intention, she did not think it was right, but she knew if she didn't steal her family would suffer. The food she would steal was other people's livelihoods. Maya learned with time to wear different jackets, to layer her hair differently, and even change her gait so she could not be caught.

A blasting knock came at 18-year-old Maya's front door. Farm animals could be heard yelling and fleeing. Peeking out the window, Maya knew this couldn't be good. She had been home along with her two younger sisters. Her mother hadn't been home in over a week.

Upon answering the door, she had been greeted by the local police. Forcefully grabbing her, they hauled her out to the front of her home. Maya had fought back as much as she could, but she couldn't break their grasp. Her sisters watched in fear from the front door as Maya had been cuffed and tossed into the back of a police car.

Maya was then driven to the capital city of Tbilisi, checked into a regional jail cell. Given a grand opportunity, she had met Levan. Levan was an older man, around late 60s, he had also been a very experienced public defender. Throughout Maya's childhood, she had always been interested in true crime. She had spent a lot of time scouring her local library, looking for crime-related books. Levan and Maya would end up bonding over his profession. A great amount of time was spent mulling over countless stories. Maya was incredibly fascinated with the tales Levan told her about people he had defended in his lifetime.

Levan had seen something inside Maya. A spark of intellectual potential. In combination with her developing interest in law, Levan had nothing to lose in his life. He had no wife, no kids, he knew he was nearing the end of his life within the next couple of years. Levan had devised a plan, one of which he did not share with Maya until the time of execution. Presented to a 12-man jury, Maya would go on to endure her trial. The laws regarding theft in Georgia were unfair. The jury wanted to pass down a 10-year prison sentence onto Maya.

Per the request of Levan, the judge granted a recess to discuss the topics at hand with his client. Maya was quickly ushered down the hall by Levan. He kept pushing her forward, confused, Maya had been covered with a jacket. She didn't argue with Levan, she didn't stop, she had a slight idea of what was happening but wasn't fully understanding it. Out the front door, Maya had been stuffed into the back of an antiquated Volkswagen.

Pushing the antiquated high mileage car to its limits, the two of them trekked through the Caucus mountains, traveling through Ukraine and Poland, down through Slovakia, then Austria. Crossing through the cold Alps to finally be met in Switzerland. Maya had been tasked with a mission. While on their road trip, they had discussed what was going to happen next. Levan did not want to hurt Maya. He saw Maya almost as a judicial prodigy. Both Levan and Maya were now fugitives in the country of Georgia.

Helping secure a small studio apartment in Switzerland, Levan bestowed Maya with a few thousand Franc, enough to get started in the world. Levan had connections to other migrants in Switzerland and was able to help Maya obtain a job. She would begin washing dishes in a small mom and pop restaurant. Levan taught her how to set up her bills such as paying rent, electric, heat, water, etc. Levan had stuck around for several weeks while Maya built up what she could.

With a final hug, Maya had been met with the words: “Do something great with your life.” Maya had been granted a second chance in this world. Maya, being young, didn't entirely understand why Levan took much interest in her, but he did. Now on her own, she had time to grow up. After realizing that her mother did nothing to protect her in life, she grew a lot of resentment towards her family. No one wanted to help her. Everyone wanted to use her. If she didn't steal and lived an honest life, she wouldn't be in the middle of Europe trying to make ends meet. Maya had to make the best of a shitty situation.

After some time, there had been a lot of commotion at the back of the restaurant Maya worked at. Interested, Maya would see everyone surrounding a tall and lanky man. The man was looking for hardworking and dedicated people.

In search of drivers for a fruit transport business, the lanky man had questioned some of the migrant workers at the restaurant. Men tried to prove their worthiness by mustering up stories, feats of strengths of hauling cargo along the treacherous bends of the Alps. The man spoke English and the migrant men surrounding him could barely understand him. Maya, being the curious being that she is, tried to push her way to the front of the crowd. Wanting to see what all the fuss was about; the lanky man would notice someone trying to push through. He scolded the men and told them to move. Sticking his hand out, he greeted her. Winston was his name. Winston Wardell.

The two of them made their way back into the restaurant. Winston had ordered a meal for himself and Maya. Sitting down, the two of them talked. Maya explained her backstory to Winston, what her interests are, and where she is now. Winston listened and learned; he also shared some life experiences with Maya. Winston saw great potential in Maya for his business. Although it wasn't perfect, the fact that she knew English put her miles above everyone else in the restaurant. Her niche interest in law would prove to be of use. She also had an irresistible smile, one that could go a long way in the business world.

The two of them wrapped up their meal, Winston paid for the two of them. He also informed the manager at the restaurant that Maya was resigning from her position as dishwasher, asap. Maya was taken aback. Confused as to why he would make her quit, the two of them took a stroll outside. Winston offered Maya a job she could not turn down. Maya would pose as his right-hand woman. What made the job enticing for Maya was the ample financial compensation. Winston opened the passenger door for his car and the two of them made their way back to his parents' bunker.

Introducing her to his parents, they accepted her with open arms. Maya did not get a full understanding of the business Winston had been running. It had been explained to her in greater detail once she sat down with Winston and his parents. Fruit was not being transported, it was cold serial-less steel and hot munitions. Russian, Yugoslavian, Romanian, Bulgarian, you name it, it was being imported through loose Greek ports and exported to distributers within the Balkans.

Once a criminal, always a criminal, right?

Learning the arms trade was no easy feat. Starting from nothing and attempting to memorize every caliber, barrel length, barrel twist ratio, trigger pull weight, spring tension, manufacturer name, model, and manufacturing source was a lot harder for a woman whose English was subpar. Maya would spend copious amounts of hours reviewing weapon schematics, listening to Winston and his parents yap about guns, and reading books about hunting.

Up until she turned 21, Maya had been generating fake bill of ladings, organizing truck routes through various countries, even getting some shooting lessons from Winston himself. It wasn't long before tragedy struck. While striking a deal, Winston's parents had encountered an unforeseen circumstance, costing them their lives. Maya had met with Winston one final time before his own disappearance. He passed her a suitcase containing 500,000 euros and a burner phone. Closing the bunker, he had vanished.

Maya wasn't sure how to feel, she felt like she was back at square one. Once again, abandoned by those she loved. She returned to the condo Winston's family bought for her, she sat in thought.

Purchasing a plane ticket, Maya discarded most of her personal belongings. She nabbed the fake passport she created for herself while working for Winston. Next stop: Amerca.

Maya would land in the states and secure a student visa. She was going to attend college in America. Taking the money she was gifted with, she wished to use it to better both herself and others. She sought to get a college degree and become a lawyer. She wanted to do something great for herself.

College proved to be difficult for Maya. She only had a basic education under her belt from growing up in Georgia. Such education did not provide a good foundation for college level learning. For a while, she struggled. Thankfully she didn't need to work and lived frugally off the money she had been gifted, buying her extra time to study.

Maya had been popular at her college. She was young and attractive. Making friends was rather easy for Maya. The English courses she was taught by Winston, and her prior life in Georgia, boosted her confidence. Maya had been invited to quite a few parties, she enjoyed being a social butterfly and talking with everyone.

Finding love was difficult for Maya. Her accent and memory issues were the stem of most relationship issues. All her relationships in college failed because she had a difficult time remembering things. Maya wasn't sure where the amnesia came from, but she had been chalking it up to being tossed around a holding cell in Tbilisi. Maya didn't let these pitfalls bother her, she knew it was all trial and error.

With time, Maya ended up graduating with a degree in criminal defense.

The bustling streets of Copenhagen became Maya's new home. Taking the left-over money after paying off her tuition, Maya put it to great use. She rented a small flat in the center of the city and leased a small office space. Advertising herself in the local newspapers and around court houses, she found herself with many new clients. Those she was defending were illegal immigrants who had committed crimes in Denmark.

Her business did not take off as well as she planned. She only spoke English and Georgian. Most of her clients spoke their native tongue, so she would need to hire interpreters to understand their issues. At heart, Maya really wanted to help these people as she was once a convict and an immigrant. She felt as if it was her duty.

The struggle became worse as her bills piled up for her business. Almost a year later, she had a breakthrough. She was invited to assist in a large suit against a corporation in Denmark. While working on the suit, she swept house. Presenting many facts, swaying the opinions of the judges, she did wonderful.

Her hard work paid off; she made allies with the executives at the larger firm working on the suit. She was able to obtain more lucrative cases opposed to being a public defender.

Life was starting to look better for Maya.

A loud droning noise could be heard from Maya's panty drawer. Confused, Maya searched for the source of the noise. Laying upon the bottom of her dresser drawer was an old cell phone, carefully tucked into a plastic bag to prevent outside debris and moisture from destroying the device's motherboard. Within a few quick moments, Maya would unzip the bag. Reaching in to discover the dormant cellular device was receiving a call from the only saved contact. Winston.

Her heart raced a million kilometers an hour. A wave of anxiety washed over her; she did not know what to do. The phone continued to ring. She placed the phone down on top of the dresser and she sat on the edge of her bed. With her head in her hands, she didn't know what to do.

Maya had thought that Winston was dead, assuming he killed himself after being so reliant on his parents. This man did not have a proper education, no real-world experience, no people skills outside of communicating with literal terrorists. To Maya, the probability that he would have ended his own existence was high.

Maya needed a few moments to think. Her mind was racing. So many thoughts went through her mind. Is it really him on the other end? Why is he calling her? Is he in trouble? Does he need her help? After an hour, Maya picked up the phone and dialed him back.

The two of them discussed life. Maya did the smart thing and took her money, got a college education, and opened a law office. Winston? Ended up as a porn direction in Amsterdam. Maya wasn't surprised. At first, she thought he was calling her to perform in some videos. This was not the case at all.

Winston wished to reopen his gun running business. He had done a lot of thinking and couldn't stand living the life he is in now. The man married a porn star, divorced said porn star, and was tired of living his “dream”.

Maya thought for a long time on the phone. Her law office's prospects were starting to look brighter. She had a small apartment to herself. She was doing something good.

At the time, Maya wouldn't know it, but she was a push over. She was convinced that she could work part time just to get back into the flow, to see if she wanted to continue the gun running business with Winston. Maya wanted security. She had made it this far in life, she didn't want to lose everything and start over, again. Winston made a lot of promises on that phone call. He had inadvertently helped her get a college degree, helped open her law office, improved her English, pretty much reformed her life. Winston needed help and only she could assist.

Maya stepped down as the CEO of her firm, selling it to a larger conglomerate. Maya moved back to Switzerland.

Africa, South America, and eastern Europe. These are the top three points of interest for Maya. Each of these areas were prime for the weapons trade. Africa suffered from its own variations of the Arab Spring. South America is littered with drug cartels and paramilitary groups living within the Andes mountains as well as the Amazon rain forest. Eastern Europe suffered from pirates in the Mediterranean Sea, rival crime syndicates waging war, and local militia fighting for regional peace.

Delving into northern Africa to start, Maya had spent a lot of time in Sudan, Egypt, Libya, and Algeria. Islamic rebels were her main target demographic, as they had dreams of conquering the northern Sahara in the name of Islam. Maya would routinely travel by train into these countries across the desert. Travel by air was prohibited due to numerous surface to air missile attacks. Train was a much safer alternative.

On many occasions, Maya would meet with local warlords. Selling firearms and munitions to fuel their reign across the Sahara. Maya would also meet with local democratic groups, offering them solutions to protect themselves from these warlords. No matter what, Maya always came out on top regardless of who the winner was.

South America had been more politics than anything. The guns they wanted were more for superiority and fear than actual fighting. These sales meetings were much more lucrative. It wasn't so much showing off what a gun was capable of, it was playing the long game and competing with other competitors in the region. Why should the cartels go with eastern European made weapons and have them exported halfway across the globe when they can get weapons imported from smugglers in the United States? Selling to these men took a lot of mental strength, strategical thinking, and more than what a bright smile and a firm handshake could offer.

Kosovo, Albania, Greece, and Serbia. Home sweet home. Kosovo and Serbia have had many conflicts for years. Kosovo wanting to become a sovereign state, Serbia rejecting its statehood and attempting to continue its absorption of land. Blood is written all over this region of Europe. Albania is the cocaine capital of the world. Its residents consume the most cocaine per capita. Maya had met Hannah. Hannah was a lucrative financier of the Greek cocaine importers. She would fence money for the local cartels to buy weapons and munitions to fend off Tunisian pirates in the Mediterranean. In return, she would take a large cut of the profits. With NATO countries rejecting Russian made ammunition and arms for import, and Slavic states producing pitiful amounts of munitions to cover the void, Hannah had to outsource. Maya would be introduced to Hannah at a coffee shop in a Greek port city, forever solidifying their friendship.

The move to America was a difficult decision for Maya. Winston had to spend a lot of time convincing her that it was worth it. Hours long flights, strict immigration policies, and strategically planning on crafting a bunker in a remote location. These were all massive hurdles that Maya would need to overcome. It was her work partner's great idea to move to the land of the free. Was it really free though? This would be their most costly operation, both mentally and financially. The payoff on paper would be immaculate.

With over a years' worth of preparation, mostly done by Maya, she would need to achieve the following: Successfully create fake passports for herself and any work partners accompanying her to the United States, research remote locations within the United States with airports that have low security, acquire employee rosters and research their lives to figure out bribes.

The plans changed over time. Winston's influence over the plan enacted him in purchasing a bowling alley for his own personal quest, as well as a storage unit for a temporary base of operations. Confused by these requests, Maya obliged. These requests would be easy additions, but they came with a greater risk of exposure. She trusted Winston and his expertise.

Once the day came, they enacted on their plans. Winston smuggled himself on a boat into the US and started to set up operations. Once the bunker was fully set up, Maya illegally migrated to the states. From here, Maya moved into the bunker with Winston.

Things began to get awkward. Winston started to show more feelings towards Maya. He had purchased only one bed for them to share in the bunker. Finding this to be very awkward, their first night was spent with Winston leaving the bed to sleep on the couch. The next morning, he apologized and deeply regretted his actions. He wanted to make this up by buying her a small home to live in near the bunker. Maya appreciated the gesture but declined. Winston went ahead and had one built for her anyways.

Maya did have some feelings for Winston, maybe not as strongly as he felt about her. She invited him back into the bedroom, to sleep together at night. The two of them even ended up cuddling some nights.

Trips were very common for Maya. She had become the front runner for their business. Winston spent most of his time focusing on logistics. Her time away from Winston drove him mad. Maya would come home to find Winston passed out on the floor due to abusing inhalants. She wanted to help him, but she knew she needed to help herself first.

The cabin's construction was now complete. The two of them drove to go see it. Maya was absolutely thrilled with how it came out. It was small, had a basement, and a hot tub out back. It was everything she could have asked for and then some. She was happy that it was all hers too.

Maya had moved out of the bunker and into the cabin. She would need her own car too. She wanted something small, something compact that she could easily drive around in. On the other side of the state was an auction house. There, she found an old 1977 blue Porsche 911. The auction house was empty, no one was really interested in betting on the Porsche. She secured the sale for herself. Finding out that minimal work needed to be done, she drove herself home. Racing Winston all the way back to the bunker, she enjoyed her new sense of freedom.

A lot of time was spent at the bunker. Mostly for business tasks, she was in and out. Constantly flying to other countries for sales meetings. Coming back to the bunker to push paperwork and follow up with other clients.

Winston had one peculiar client that he had been selling to. He went by Don. Based out of Massachusetts, he had been doing dead drops with this client. Maya was infuriated with Winston. Dropping off guns and ammo without any form of security. This entire operation Winston was running with Don could have gone south at any point. The cops could have been involved, a random person could have picked up the guns or cash.

She enacted a corporate takeover. Winston had to call Don and tell him that they weren't doing drops anymore. That their organization would be sending someone to meet in person for a sale. Maya was the one to meet in person.

Getting dressed up, Maya had planned to meet Don in a parking lot outside of Boston. She brought her Porsche. On the passenger seat was a duffle bag of the product he had ordered. Leaning against her car, she waited in the parking lot. Around the corner came a black sled. Confused, she watched the vehicle pull up in front of her. Maya investigated the front windshield, there was no apparent driver. She looked around and didn't see anyone in the parking lot. Maya spoke up, introducing herself to the car. Surprisingly, he spoke back. Maya was confused, but also understood why they were doing dead drops in the first place.

Don was a tough man. He was very straight forward, only told her what she needed to know. This sparked Maya's curiosity about the man. After their first deal, she passed off the duffle bag, and she received the payment for the arms. Once she returned home, she wanted to do more research about this man. She looked online, in all sorts of databases, nothing. This man was virtually a ghost. She wanted to pry farther.

The following month, Winston Incorporated received another order from Don. Winston prepared the order and Maya was the one that met up with him. She was deeply fascinated with Don and his mysterious aura.

Upon arrival at the drop off location, the sled rolled around the corner again. This time dawning a bouquet of flowers. This made Maya's heart melt, no one had done anything this kind for her before, totally forgetting that Winston built her an entire house. She loved it. This act of kindness would solidify Maya's interest in Don. Always meeting him with a warm smile, she would begin to talk more and more with Don. Getting him to open more about himself, and her exchanging information about herself. Was this the smartest thing to do in this kind of business? Maybe. Maya was love struck.

Each night, Maya would find herself sending Don a text message. A lot of nights, she never received anything back. However, after some time she started to receive messages back. Anytime she received a text back, she would get very excited. Tripping over everything in the cabin just to see what he said back. Even if it was a simple response, she adored it.

Don offered her something she could not resist. A visit to his personal seaside retreat. This made Maya ecstatic. She had always wanted to visit a beach, but never had the opportunity to due to work. Racing home, she packed her bags and threw everything into her Porsche. She drove to the address Don told her to meet her at.

Coming up to a garage built into the dunes, Maya was surprised. She didn't expect this residence to be tucked away on the beach like this. There was a patio on top of the garage. She parked her car on the side of the building and knocked on the door.

The two of them had spent the night together. Don teaching her to play cards, Maya being pushed on a swing above the garage, the two of them enjoying each other's presence.

Maya needed to leave the next day for a business trip, she wasn't too happy that she needed to. She wanted to spend more time with Don. Something she later found out was that Don wasn't his real name. It was just an alias made up to hide his identity and to protect himself. She had learned his real name was Humphrey.

Hearing this warmed Maya's heart. It showed that he was starting to let his guard down, beginning to trust her.

After Humphrey brought Maya to the airport, Maya spent a lot of time thinking. She couldn't even focus on her meeting. All she had on her mind was Humphrey. She rushed through her trip as quickly as she could. Wanting to go back, she missed him.

Luckily, her trip was only several days. Once back in the states, Humphrey picked her up from the airport. The two of them made their way back to his place, only for a storm to strike once they returned to his garage. Maya, being very tired, spent most of her time resting against Humphrey, enjoying the time spent.

Maya had a surprise for Humphrey, something that caught the coupe off guard. A quick peck on his front end, which drove him crazy. He snapped, rolling backwards, letting out an audible scream. Finding it amusing, Maya giggled. She thought he was cute. They had spent the rest of their stormy night cuddling.

The next day the two of them spent a lot of time on the beach, combing it for whatever had washed up the night before. Finding everything from trash to seashells, they had a great time. While walking along the coast with him, she would hear the famous words that would stick with her for the rest of time: "You're cute."