Chameleon Assassin (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 1) Page 3

  I waited, too.

  About twenty minutes later, Mark and Susan came down the road from the direction of the front gate. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the next step. I got my motorcycle and followed them out to the main highway.

  They drove into Toronto and straight to the entertainment district near the lake. Pulling up in front of a club called the Drop Inn, they got out, and the valet took the car. Mark, Susan and the driver, another girl about their age or a little older, went into the club. Since the job paid expenses, I let the valet take my motorcycle, too.

  The crowd seemed a little young to me, and drugs of various types were exchanging hands like germs in a kindergarten. The haze from the weed smoke was so bad that I kept my mask on. Most of the customers and the staff took theirs off. I guessed they liked the free high.

  I tried to keep an eye on Mark more than on the others. The driver was obviously his girlfriend, and just as obviously, the source of the drugs. Maya Wellington was correct in her concerns. I didn’t see Susan use anything harder than weed. Mark and his girlfriend snorted what I assumed was either coke or meth, then a while later they each took a shot from a jet injector.

  Observing them and some of the other kids, I became convinced the jet injectors contained the luvdaze everyone was worried about. By midnight, people were passing out all over the place. The bouncers didn’t seem to care, and it occurred to me that while the majority of the customers were corporate kids, the club wasn’t corporate.

  Susan pulled her brother and their friend outside around two o’clock, and when the valet brought the car, she got behind the wheel. I hoped she would let the computer drive them home.

  My next step was to watch from inside the compound the following night. I called Fitzgerald and cleared my plan with him. My personal jet pack lifted me over the Wellington’s wall and carried me beyond the perimeter detectors. The device was pricey, but I hadn’t paid for it. I’d picked it up as kind of a bonus on another job where the security was worse than Carpenter’s.

  A large tree had a clear line of sight to both the house and the front gate. I climbed it with my night-vision binoculars and found a comfortable place on a large limb. I waited all night but nothing happened.

  Around midnight, bored out of my mind, I pulled out my tablet and did some more research on luvdaze. A couple of articles convinced me it was bad stuff. They also told me why Mark wasn’t trying to sneak out every night.

  The effects of luvdaze started with feelings of euphoria and mild hallucinations that crested into a feeling of being one with the world, powerful and invulnerable. At that point in the trip, users became sexually hyperactive. All of this lasted about twelve hours. The following phase involved a tailing off, lassitude, and finally, sleep for another twelve hours. Even the most hardcore addicts only took it every three days. They didn’t have the energy to do it more often.

  Other than the drug taking over a person’s life, the major issue was that over time the addict developed a tolerance. Unfortunately not a physical tolerance, but a perceived tolerance. When the drug didn’t deliver the kick it used to and the feelings of power weren’t as great, the user tended to take more. Only, a little more was a death sentence. The brainstem seized and the person stopped breathing.

  The drug was usually sold on the streets as a single dosage jet injector. If the dealer loaded too much in the devices, a mass overdose might occur, which had happened in Chicago a couple of weeks before.

  I climbed down out of my tree and went home.

  Two nights later, I was back in the tree. A little after dark, Mark and Susan came out of a door on the side of the house. Checking the house plan on my tablet, I found it was the door from the kitchen to the garbage bins. They circled around the house, through the rose garden and a small orchard onto the lawn.

  The orchard blocked them from being seen from the house windows, and they nonchalantly walked up to the main gate. Mark pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to the guards on duty, who opened the gate.

  Ah, the magic of money. Occam’s razor. The simplest solution was the most likely. I’d been thinking like a thief, envisioning technology, mutations, and elaborate schemes, not like a rich, overly-entitled teen.

  I pulled out my phone and called Fitzgerald. As I climbed down from the tree and prepared to hop back over the wall, I saw a van with Fitzgerald and other security guards pull out from the back of the house and head down the drive to the main gate. It stopped there and I saw someone get out. Then the gate opened and the van drove on. When I drove out of the subdivision, I saw Mark’s girlfriend’s car and the security van stopped by the side of the road, surrounded by Fitzgerald’s security men.

  I spoke with both Fitzgerald and Mrs. Wellington the next day and transmitted my invoice.

  Chapter 3

  The band was rocking it at The Pinnacle when I heard, “Wanna dance?”

  I glanced up, and then up a little more. He was tall, with nice shoulders, and a nice smile.

  “Sure.” I stood, watching his face as I rose to my full six feet two inches, plus the heels I was wearing. A lot of men want women shorter than they are. My eyes passed his, and then his followed mine up. I figured if I had been barefoot, we would’ve been about the same height. His smile didn’t falter, and he reached for my hand. Okay! I smiled back.

  We sized each other up as we danced. I liked what I saw. Broad shoulders, broad chest, muscular arms. Buzz haircut. A hint of tattoo peeking out from his sleeves and collar. Gold hoop in one ear.

  We danced to a couple more songs, then he bought me a drink.

  “I’m Ron,” he said as he handed me a glass with something orangish in it.

  “Libby.”

  “You’re hot.”

  “Thanks.” I motioned toward the stage. “I’m going home with her tonight.”

  He puckered his lips, then took a drink. “You always swing that way?”

  “I swing all sorts of ways. Mostly I don’t swing at all. I’m kinda picky and I don’t get in a hurry.”

  To my surprise, he smiled. “Nothing wrong with that.” He toasted me with his glass, then took another drink. “You come here a lot?”

  “Fairly regular.”

  “I’ll see ya again, then,” Ron said and wandered off into the crowd. A couple of minutes later I saw him dancing with another woman. Good to know I didn’t permanently crush his heart.

  The orange thing tasted terrible, so I took it over to the bar and shoved it at Paul. “Give me a shot of whiskey. I need something to wash the taste of that out of my mouth.”

  Paul laughed. “I tried to tell him you wouldn’t like it.” He poured me a shot. “My treat,” he said, leaning forward to hand me the drink. “See that guy down at the end of the bar? He asked if Elizabeth Nelson is here tonight.”

  I craned my neck to see the man Paul was talking about. He looked like a corporate type, dressed in a business suit. Even my mother didn’t call me Elizabeth, but it was the name on my business card. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I hadn’t seen you yet. Says his name is Sayd Agha.”

  “Any hint as to what he wants?”

  Paul shook his head.

  I walked down the bar. “Mr. Agha? I’m Elizabeth Nelson. I understand you were asking for me.”

  He slid off the bar stool and stood. “Ah, Miss Nelson. Yes, I would like to discuss some business with you.” He had to crane his neck up to talk to me and it seemed to bother him.

  I handed him my business card. “Normally, people either send me an email or vmail. We can discuss your business tomorrow.” Rather than walk away, I hesitated, waiting to see what he would do. Expecting me at The Pinnacle was a curious choice since I had no official connection to the place. The idea that he had followed me there seeped through my alcohol-soaked brain.

  “I hoped we might talk tonight,” he said, reaching out and taking my elbow. “Perhaps we could just go outside where it’s quieter.” I tried to shake him off, and
he tightened his grip. “I think we need to talk now, Miss Nelson.”

  “Perhaps we could go into the women’s washroom so I can torture you until you tell me what this is about,” I suggested. I stared in his eyes, but he wasn’t sufficiently shocked at what I’d said. A man who nonchalantly considered torture a standard topic of conversation? Not good.

  “Look down,” I said. He glanced down at the knife I held against his abdomen. “Let go of me.” He did. “Very good. Now, turn around and face the bar. And if you think you might be faster than I am, consider if you’d bet your life on it.”

  Agha made a good decision and turned around. I took a small electroshock box from my purse, put it against the back of his neck and gave him three million volts. His shaking-dance reaction attracted Paul’s attention, and he rushed around the end of the bar to catch my victim before he fell.

  “Do you have a room where we can take him?” I asked. “Or do I have to drag him all the way to the basement?”

  “Are you going to kill him?” Paul asked. Did I mention that Paul had known me for a very long time?

  “Not until I find out how many friends he has outside. I have no idea what’s going on.”

  Paul turned away and told another bartender to cover for him. He spoke into a mic clipped to his collar, then turned back to me.

  “I called for a couple of bouncers to help us.”

  We both scanned the room, trying to see if anyone was taking an interest in our activities. It didn’t appear anyone was paying attention. I pulled out my phone and called my dad.

  “Hey, does the name Sayd Agha ring a bell?” I asked when Dad answered.

  “Can’t say that it does. Why?”

  “He just tried to lure me outside a club to talk business. I told him to call the office tomorrow, and he tried to get insistent.”

  “Don’t go with him!”

  I chuckled. “I didn’t. I can’t figure out why he’s interested in me, so I thought maybe you’d run over his pet frog or something.”

  “Send me his picture.”

  Two bouncers, Tom and Ramon, showed up and carried Agha down the stairs to the basement. I thought we were going to Paul’s apartment, but they surprised me. We ended up in a laundry room. Paul brought a chair, and one of the bouncers produced a rope. They were very efficient in tying my new friend to the chair.

  “Looks like you boys have done this before,” I commented.

  Tom winked at me.

  “If he followed me here, his friends may know Nellie is a friend of mine,” I said.

  Ramon’s grin turned into a scowl. “Anyone touch Nellie has a death wish.” I didn’t think he was speaking metaphorically. He nodded to Tom, who headed toward the stairs.

  “Do you need me?” Paul asked. When I shook my head, he also left, but Ramon stayed.

  “You here to protect me or him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know him, and he ain’t near as pretty as you are. You’re Paul’s friend.” He stepped back and leaned against a washing machine.

  My phone rang. “Dad?”

  “His name is Adnan Erdowan,” Dad said. “He’s Turkish, but he’s been living here for about ten years. He works for a Russian electronics corporation.”

  “That’s nice. By here, do you mean Toronto or North America?”

  “North America. He’s based in Dallas, but airline records show he’s been shuttling back and forth from Dallas to Toronto monthly for the past year.”

  “Any idea why he’s after me?”

  “None. I’ve never dealt with that company, one way or the other.” Then he gave me his version of fatherly advice. “Libby, don’t take any chances and don’t leave any witnesses.”

  I hung up and told the bouncer, “Maybe you should take a look outside and see if anyone’s waiting for him.”

  “Already have people doing that.”

  “Oh. Are you squeamish?”

  “Not particularly.”

  I shoved the little box into the Turk’s groin and triggered it. He screamed—long, loud, and raw. The bouncer paled. I decided he lied when he said he wasn’t squeamish. Men are like that—always trying to put on a strong front.

  I grabbed Adnan’s hair and said into his ear. “Adnan Erdowan. You lied to me. You either tried to kidnap me or you planned to kill me. If you hope to see another sunrise, you’d better start talking.”

  He glared at me but stayed silent.

  “Can you help me position him over the drain?” I asked the bouncer. “Might as well keep the cleanup to a minimum.” I took off my jacket and started unbuttoning my shirt.

  “What are you doing?” Ramon asked.

  “I don’t want to get blood on my clothes.” I’m not sure if either he or Erdowan believed me at first, but they certainly paid more attention when I pulled off my top and then unfastened my pants. I folded my clothes and put them up on a shelf, then grabbed Adnan by the hair and pulled the chair over backward. His head bounced off the floor with a sound like a dropped melon. The bouncer stared at the knife I pulled from a sheath in my bra.

  I dragged Adnan by the hair to the drain in the floor and told Ramon, “You can go. I really don’t want any witnesses.”

  I leaned down and drew the tip of the knife lightly across Adnan’s throat. He froze, his eyes very wide, as I showed him a drop of his blood running down the blade. I grinned at him and said, “Last chance.”

  He started babbling. Unfortunately, it was in Turkish. When I finally convinced him to speak English, we learned that three of his friends were waiting outside in a car. He didn’t know why they were ordered to drug me, kidnap me, and take me to their boss. Yes, this was corporate business. Interestingly, they didn’t know where I lived. They hadn’t followed me, but they were told to find me at The Pinnacle.

  Very sloppy. Dad would have grounded me for a month if I moved on a target with so little information. Well, back when he still had the authority to ground me. But still, very sloppy.

  After I got everything Adnan knew, I retrieved a jet injector from my purse and gave Adnan a shot in the neck.

  “Dead?” the bouncer asked.

  “Naw, just sleeping. Do you think you could dump him in the garbage out back for me?”

  “Sure.” He seemed relieved that he didn’t have to deal with a corpse.

  Ramon hustled over and untied our captive while I got dressed. When I finished, I walked over, bent down, grabbed his chin, and kissed him full on the lips with a lot of tongue. He didn’t fight back. Men are so easy.

  “Thank you, Ramon,” I said with a smile, then left and went upstairs.

  I stopped by the bar and told Paul how to identify Adnan’s friends, then ducked out of the club’s back door.

  I had always been inquisitive. Mom and Dad thought I was too inquisitive, but I got it from them. An unsolved puzzle would drive both of them crazy.

  Maybe that was why their on-off-on-off relationship had lasted so long. I used to think it was me, which is a good thing for a kid to think. A kid should feel as though her parents think she’s important. Especially if she’s the result of a drunken one-night stand between two people of different social classes who are twenty years apart in age.

  But the last few years, I’d come to the conclusion that their attraction to each other was another puzzle thing. They drove each other crazy, couldn’t figure out what made the other one tick, and couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t stay away from each other. I was the excuse they used for keeping in touch. I had no idea how they explained to themselves why they kept sleeping with each other. Their whole relationship was weird. My entire family dynamic was weird.

  So, I blamed my DNA for not walking out of The Pinnacle and putting a lot of distance between me and the Russian corporate thugs in the parking lot. Instead, I grabbed a small can from my purse and snuck around the side of the building. Their car didn’t stand out in a parking lot filled by corporate type cars. On the other hand, it was the only one with three men sitting inside.
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  Crouching low, I crept up behind them without being noticed. Two men in the front and one in the back. None of them wore their filter masks. Using the mutation inherited from my mother to short out the car’s electrical system, including the locks, I jerked the backdoor open and sprayed the men inside, then slammed the door shut.

  One of the club’s bouncers strolled over and peered into the window. “Nasty stuff,” he commented, glancing up at me. “What is it?”

  “A knockout gas.” I held up the can to show him. “I’m sure Entertaincorp security can buy it. All the leading security infonet sites carry it.”

  The guy in the backseat tried to open the car’s door, but I kicked it back shut. He swayed and then fell over.

  We waited another five minutes, then opened the doors and let the car air out. I dragged the men out of the car one by one, searched them, and gave them a dose of the jet injector I’d given Adnan. When I finished, I stripped them all to the skin, threw their clothes in the car and lit it on fire.

  “Holy shit!” the bouncer yelled. “You are one radical bitch!”

  I gave him a smile that caused him to back up a couple of steps. “Yes, I am. I really don’t like people fucking with me. Feel free to pass that advice along.”

  I went back into the club, bought a drink, and listened to Nellie sing.

  Research on Elektronika Upravlyaet—translated as Electronics Controls, the Russian corporation my dad identified—didn’t turn up any rationale as to why they took a run at me. The corporation was a mid-level player on the international scene, primarily manufacturing industrial control equipment for factories and oil refineries.

  I even hacked into their systems and didn’t find anything I considered a clue. They had their own security apparatus, of course, but they wouldn’t care for my opinion of their cyber security. It appeared as though they used their own people for assassinations and dirty tricks. Sloppy to leave evidence of that online. Adnan and his buddies were pretty sloppy, too, evidently in keeping with the corporate culture.