Chameleon's Challenge (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 3) Page 10

  Neighborhoods. I passed through several areas in various states of decay. The sun was setting, and the local inhabitants were emerging. Lots of lycans. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about the rats.

  I decided it was time for me to head back to a safer part of town. I checked my phone and calculated that going north would be the quickest route to a bus line.

  Several blocks later, I came around a corner and almost stepped into a lycan party. Very shaggy, barely clothed lycans were having a rat roast accompanied by what I guessed was moonshine. The male to female ratio was way out of kilter, and it appeared there was a waiting list to mount the available females. So not my scene.

  I slowly backed away, but one of the males nearer to me stuck his snout into the air and sniffed. His head turned in my direction, and he started walking toward me.

  Pressed as tightly as I could get to the wall, I shuffled toward the other end of the alley. His head swiveled back and forth. He couldn’t see me, but he could smell me. Whether he was interested in something better than rat for dinner, or he smelled female, I didn’t know or care. Neither way was good for me.

  I slipped my hand into my bag and wrapped my fingers around my pistol’s grip. I was almost at the end of the alley, but he was getting closer. Close enough I could see his teeth when he grinned, and he was definitely grinning.

  Without warning, he leaped toward me and managed to grab me with one hand. I swung and clocked him on the side of the head with the pistol. He didn’t let go, but he growled.

  My kick missed his groin, hitting him in the thigh instead. He was a lot stronger than I was, and he pulled me toward him. I thudded into his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around my back.

  “Let go of me or I’ll blow your head off,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He laughed. “I may not be able to see you, but that won’t interfere with what I have in mind.”

  I pressed the barrel of my pistol against the side of his head, and he froze.

  “I said, let go of me.”

  His grip relaxed, and I took a step backward.

  “I don’t think we’re each other’s type,” I said. “Now, you turn around and go back to your party. You look back or yell, or do anything else before you get to the end of the alley, and I’ll shoot you. Understand?”

  “Sure. You won’t get very far.”

  “Is that a threat? Did you just threaten me if I let you go unharmed? You are one dumb son of a bitch.” I lowered my pistol and shot him in the kneecap, then turned and ran. I doubted that the silenced shot could be heard above the noise of the party, even by lycan ears, but I figured getting as far away as possible was a good opening strategy.

  Being a burglar requires being in good shape, and I ran five miles three mornings a week, even when I was hung over. I settled into a steady, distance-eating lope and tried to stay away from large groups. I’d run about a mile, and night had fully set in when I saw a broken, faded sign hanging from a building in the distance to my right. The sign said, “The Old Store.”

  With a few unladylike words, I noted the location and kept going.

  Chapter 12

  I checked on Grenier’s computer the following morning. My program was still running but it hadn’t broken the encryption.

  I left a note for Mike and Nellie, then took my bike and my kit and went out for breakfast. Afterward, I rode to a secure parking garage and paid to leave the bike. A bus took me to the edge of the enclave.

  “You sure you want to get off here, Miss?” the driver asked as I disembarked.

  Giving him a smile, I said, “Yes, thank you. I’ll be all right.”

  I wandered a few blocks until I found a place where no one was about, blurred my image, waited half an hour, then took off toward The Old Store. An hour’s hike brought me to where I’d seen the sign the previous evening. Another hour spent scouting the area revealed I was in a lycan neighborhood, and on the edge of a neighborhood that was much rougher.

  The lycans were all in bed at that time of the day, but some of the neighbors were up and about—a few trolls and part-trolls, along with a few rather rough-looking vamps and humans, and some people I wasn’t sure how to classify. I saw three or four people who were very large—at least seven feet—and looked like weight lifters, even the woman.

  While the buildings around it were partially or mostly rubble, The Old Store itself was surprisingly sturdy and intact. All the windows were boarded up, of course, but no one had stolen the boards, and they looked as though they’d been there for more than one winter.

  The only reason I could conceive for that was that someone, or something, was so dangerous that no one dared go near the place. Anything that scared a pack of lycans scared me, and I didn’t even know what it was.

  A hole under the foundation of the fallen-down house across the street from the store had a wide board over it with a padlock. That was fairly unusual. Anything worth locking up was worth stealing, at least for someone. A little further investigation showed why no one had broken in. The wood was backed by a plate of steel, and the padlock was there just for show. The real lock was a lot sturdier.

  In any case, I couldn’t imagine myself going down into that hole. My chameleon abilities were of no use in a tunnel, and a shootout in a narrow space was a losing proposition—for both parties. Even if I had Mike to watch my back, it would be a lousy idea.

  I knew either the cops or CC, the Chamber of Commerce’s security force, had a SWAT team that occasionally ventured into the enclave when a gang’s activities got too brazen and encroached on polite society. Whether Inspector Donofrio would commit men on a wild hunch was debatable.

  Carefully inspecting the outside of the store, I didn’t find an easy way in. No loose boards, no holes, no hidden doors that I could find. I backed off and trekked back to the bus stop.

  I talked with Mike, then called Inspector Donofrio and asked if we could meet. He suggested Lilith’s and I had to smile. He was already seated when I arrived.

  “Good afternoon, Inspector. Some lunch? Maybe that drink I owe you, or are you on the clock?”

  He glanced at his wristwatch. I’d noticed it before. I didn’t know how much an implanted chronometer cost; I got mine on my twelfth birthday. Mom said it was her birthday present to herself.

  “I’ve spent the morning explaining to my bosses,” Donofrio said, “including the commissioner, why I haven’t made any progress on this case. Sure, I’ll take a drink.”

  I signaled the waitress. After she took our orders, I turned to Donofrio and said, “I might be able to help you out, Inspector. All I need is a SWAT team.”

  He choked on his water and started coughing. After giving me a nasty look for pounding him on the back, he asked, “Is that all? Why not a full assault force?”

  “Really? Can you get one of those? That would probably be better. Helicopters, or armored personnel carriers? I think it would be easier to get APCs into the area.”

  That got me an eye roll.

  Our drinks came and I toasted him, then said, “Here’s the deal. I have a lead on a place Grenier might be hiding. But you’d have to go in with force.”

  “Where he might be hiding? You want me to commit an assault force on a guess?”

  I shrugged. “Inspector, how much do you want me to tell you? I have contacts, and some of the information I have might not be admissible in court.”

  He took a swallow of his drink and said, “Call me Joe. Okay, tell me.” As I opened my mouth, he said, “Wait. Maybe you should order me another drink first.”

  “Sissy,” I said with a wink. I signaled the waitress to bring another round. “Well, you know that Lady Vivien gave me some possible locations to check out. I also checked with a telepath I know, and someone in his network saw Grenier near a place that matches one of Vivien’s spots.”

  Donofrio took another drink and nodded. “All right. I’m with you so far.”

  “I found the place, I think. Going in there is some
thing else again. It could be a deathtrap.”

  “Wonderful.” While he pondered, our lunches came. We ate for a while, then he said, “The CC has a force for that. Toronto Police has a couple of SWAT teams. We’re down in strength because of a botched operation last summer.”

  “Yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about. Not my fault.”

  I took a couple of bites before I realized he was staring at me. “What? It wasn’t. I told them not to go into a vampire neighborhood after dark. But all the damned testosterone plugged their ears and no one would listen to me.”

  “You were involved in the luvdaze mess? Hell, I should have guessed.”

  “So, what would you have to do to request assistance from the CC?”

  “You’re kidding. You want me to throw myself on my sword and admit I can’t handle this?”

  “Well, you can’t handle it. I don’t know why men have such a problem admitting they need help.”

  Donofrio looked like he’d eaten something bitter. “You work for yourself, don’t you? You don’t know what it’s like to be in an organization that’s looking for a scapegoat.”

  “I know what it’s like to have a client refuse to pay because they didn’t listen to me and things went south. Some people just don’t grasp that you can’t take it with you.” I thought a bit. “Okay, what can I do to help? Should I have Entertaincorp ask for CC help?”

  “Director Pong will just love that. He’s in the same situation as I am.”

  “Then he’s probably searching for a way out.” I pulled out my phone and called Pong. “Inspector Donofrio and I are brainstorming some ideas. I wondered if you’d like to join us at Lilith’s.”

  We chatted a few minutes, and when I hung up, I said, “He’ll be right over. I think he needs a drink, too.”

  Pong joined us and we filled him in on my idea.

  “Let me try and get the top brass together,” Pong said. “I don’t have a problem telling them I’m in over my head. The majority of my force are either event and facility security or bodyguards. They aren’t trained for investigations or assault. I don’t think we have a SWAT team anywhere on our payroll.”

  He made a few phone calls. Donofrio and I drank and watched him.

  “Eleven in the morning,” Pong said when he put his phone away. “We’re going to need to have our stories aligned.”

  “Have they seen the vid from the Connolly house?” I asked.

  “No. Most of them were at the Ruiz funeral, but I don’t know how much they saw. My butt has been burning since that one.”

  “Well, gentlemen, let’s get to work,” I said, holding up my glass. Both clinked theirs against mine and we drank.

  We met with Senior Vice Presidents Francois Renard and Henri Latour in a small conference room with a stunning view of the city and the lake. Coffee, tea, and premium bottled water was placed in front of each chair.

  Renard was taller than I was, and he had gained a little weight since I last saw him. His hair had turned steel gray, and there were a few more lines in his face. Latour was short, round, and his dark hair grew in a fringe around his shiny bald head. I hadn’t met him before.

  When we walked in, Mr. Renard smiled, stood, walked over, and gave me a hug. “Libby, so good to see you. It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, it has. Paul doesn’t invite me out for the barbeques anymore.”

  Renard chuckled. “Kids grow up and move away. I can’t remember the last time we all got together for a barbeque like that. You’re looking well. Is business good? How’s your father doing?”

  Donofrio and Pong stared. I hadn’t mentioned that I’d known Renard since I was six years old. We sat, passed around business cards, and Pong laid out the reasons he’d requested the meeting. Then he turned to Donofrio and me, clearly handing the ball to us.

  I took it and ran. “I don’t know how much of the detail you know about the present situation, so if I get too detailed, please let me know. I’m the one who found the body of Mr. Weeks’s friend. I’ve taken on the job of protecting a friend of mine and Vice President O’Malley’s who lives across the hall from the victim.” I went on to give a brief chronology and body count, then asked Pong to show the security vids we had.

  They sat in silence as I pointed out the blurs on the vid of Weeks’s murder. The vid of the Connolly attack brought them straight up in their chairs as I pointed out the blurs next to the guards who were killed. By the time we showed them the vid of the Ruiz murders, I was sure I had their attention.

  “I think I might have found where the killer is hiding out,” I finished. “The problem is, it’s going to be very dangerous to go in and find him. Neither the local police, nor your force, who are trained as guards, have the training and arms necessary to dig a homicidal maniac out of the mutie zone.”

  “So, what do we do?” Latour asked. “The current situation can’t continue.”

  “I agree. We know Grenier is wounded, but when he heals, we expect him to resume his activities. We recommend that you ask the Chamber for assistance. They have the military troops necessary for an operation in the enclave.”

  We walked out not only with orders to contact the Chamber, but I had a contract with Entertaincorp to represent them to and with Chamber security.

  “So what’s the next step?” Donofrio asked.

  I had spent the previous evening rehearsing what I would say to Wil. Just enough seriousness to let him know the gravity of the situation, but a little levity so it didn’t sound like I was begging. I hadn’t spoken to him in a month, and he’d been in a hurry. His abrupt manner had bothered me for days afterward. I kept telling myself we were just friends, but I was having a hard time convincing myself that’s all I wanted.

  I took a deep breath, then pulled out my phone and punched a number. “Wil? I need some help.”

  The conversation immediately veered away from any of my imagined scenarios.

  “You’re asking for help?” Wilbur Wilberforce asked. “What do you need done? Conquer a continent?”

  “Nothing so dramatic. Just a small assault force to help me catch a homicidal chameleon.”

  “Turn yourself in. Why do you need an escort?”

  “You’re not funny. I’m acting as a representative of Entertaincorp, and this is an official request. We have a body count of at least seventeen. Wil, this guy is targeting the top executives, but also their families. He’s killing children and babies.”

  His tone immediately sobered. “Send me what you have, and I’ll take it to my boss.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hung up and Donofrio asked, “Who was that?”

  “Deputy Director Wilberforce of the North American Chamber of Commerce’s Security Department. He owes me.”

  Chapter 13

  Two days later, the Chamber airlifted in a hundred troops, all battle hardened during the Chicago insurgency earlier that fall. Wil came in as their overall commander, and his aide Devon came in as well. Otherwise, I hadn’t met any of them before.

  They also brought in a half-dozen APCs. Wil told me they would use the local Chamber’s helicopters as needed.

  I flew with Wil and Devon in one of their helicopters and showed them The Old Store and the fortified entrance hole I’d found. At the war room at CC headquarters, Pong, Donofrio, and I showed all of the CC commanders the security vid of the various attacks, and we discussed the issues of dealing with a chameleon.

  “We’ve discovered that it’s very difficult to shoot him,” I told them. “Keep in mind that the blurring you see on the vids is only visible when he’s moving. If he’s still, he blends into the background completely. The best way to see him is to catch him in the open where you can see him blocking out part of the background instead of blending in.”

  “All our men have been issued infrared goggles,” Devon said. “It’s late enough in the year that the ambient temperatures will be well below a human’s body temperature.”

  “Assuming he’s not wearing cl
othing that masks that,” Mike said. “It’s easy enough to buy.”

  It was, and my own working clothing was made with fabric that lowered my thermal signature.

  “So, what kind of plan did you have in mind?” Wil asked me.

  “We need to hit two things at the same time—The Old Store building, and the trapdoor across the street. I suspect the two are connected by a tunnel.”

  Devon threw a diagram up on the wall. “Thanks to Inspector Donofrio, we have old schematics for sewer and water tunnels under the area. You could be correct, as there’s an old maintenance tunnel that runs under both spots. But those tunnels go all over the place. I don’t see any guarantee that we’ll trap him, even if he’s there.”

  “What about the exit holes?” Mike asked. “Can we station men at the nearest cross points to block him in?”

  I considered that, and it sounded pretty good except for one thing. “As long as you’re careful about where you’re shooting,” I said. “Remember, we have a target that you probably can’t see. Not only that, but he’s not truly invisible. He’s solid, and you can’t see anyone behind him. We don’t want to do his work for him.”

  “What’s the downside of using non-lethal arms?” Wil asked.

  “Assuming they take him down. I shot him with a .380 at close range, and it only cracked his shoulder blade. Immediately after surgery to remove the bullet and patch him up, he outran me. He shows the toughness of a vampire. Besides his chameleon abilities, his physical appearance indicates he might have more mutations.”

  Wil showed the pictures we had of Grenier. “About six-two, two hundred thirty or forty pounds,” I said. “Strong and fast.”

  “And which arm was injured?” one of the men asked.

  “Right, and I think he’s right-handed. We know he’s armed with a nine millimeter and a butcher knife. Any other weaponry or armor are unknown. His right arm was immobilized and in a sling the last time he was seen.”

  We spent all day planning the operation and set it for two days later, allowing the following day for staging. The CC and the cops launched some very small drones to watch the area.