"The Chameleon"

Chapter Five

"Jim?" he heard his name called quietly.

Opening his eyes, he found Kenny McCormack beside his bed. "Ah, Kenny, it's great to see you again. It's been way too long. Thanks for coming."

Kenny shook Jim's hand and smiled broadly. His old friend had put on a few pounds in the years since he'd seen him last. The added weight softened his angular face. "I agree. What has it been? Five years?"

"Something like that."

Kenny sat down and took a deep breath. "But you didn't invite me here for a visit. You sounded pretty grim on the phone and now I know why. That's quite a bruise on your forehead."

Jim gave him a slight smile. "That's not the reason I'm stuck in here right now, but you are right about one thing. You're one of a very few who can help me right now," Jim explained, not wanting to delve into the stalker component of his hospitalization.

"So, pray tell, what can I help you with, Captain?"

"It's about the time we served together in Lima."

Kenny's gaze became more penetrating. "Lima? That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, but I've been having flashbacks to that time. You know, the mission to snatch Villanueva."

"Ah, that one," Kenny replied as he brushed at his pant leg. "How do I come into this?"

"Well, I'm having trouble remembering exactly what happened . . . almost like I've blocked it from my memory."

Kenny stopped playing with his pants' leg and turned his full attention to Jim. He let out a long breath and leaned forward. "It's not surprising, Jimmy, with everything that happened there within a week's time."

Jim felt his breath catch. He was about to find out everything that had happened and that thought scared the hell out of him.

"Tell me about it, Kenny. Tell me as if I am an outsider and have never been there."

Kenny rolled his neck and settled into a more comfortable position. "Well, we were assigned to pick up Villanueva and bring him in for arrest and interrogation. Everything was cooking along, but right after we arrived there, we realized the place was filled with many more guards than we'd been briefed on. The brass had given us orders to not come back without Enrique, but when you saw the overmatched security force there, you radioed them and explained our situation."

He took a deep breath. "The powers that be wouldn't listen to your request for more troops or let you abort the mission. The clock was ticking. There was to be a huge international conference in Lima a few days later, and General Culberson wanted to make sure Villanueva was in custody before then, so we were ordered to continue with the raid. Hey, we were just the grunts, you know?

"We made it to Enrique's main complex without detection, but that didn't last long. Hell, it went to pieces like a shattered mirror. We were separated from each other. You found Villanueva, but the man was armed and a gun fight broke out. We could hear the shooting, but couldn't help because we were pinned down as well.

"There was a loud explosion and by the time we could reach you, you were unconscious with a compound fracture of your arm among other injuries. We called the brass for more support and eventually got you to the hospital. When we went through the rubble, we found Enrique's body, along with his daughter, Marissa. His mistress, Anna, was badly injured and wound up in a coma for a while."

Kenny shifted in his chair. "Does any of that sound familiar?"

Jim nodded. The typical symptoms he'd felt in the past few weeks were there, but were much reduced in severity. "Yeah, Kenny, it does. As you were talking, more images came back to me. It was pretty much like you described," Jim paused before asking, "How many were killed during the raid at the compound?"

Kenny frowned and ducked his head. "Two of our men and fourteen people on the compound, including Enrique."

Something nagged at Jim and he realized what it was. "Were-were there any children killed?"

Kenny's face contorted into a grimace. "Yeah, there was. About half of the deaths were children, including Enrique's daughter."

"Oh God," Jim whispered, his breath hitching in his chest.

"Jimmy, it was a very long time ago."

"Not to me." Jim put a hand to his temple. He had a pounding headache that was only getting worse.

Kenny stood and walked to the end of Jim's bed before he turned back to face him. "It was the death of those kids that hit you the hardest back then."

"I keep getting flashes of an outdoor café . . . Does that mean anything to you?"

Kenny's strong reaction unsettled Jim. "How could I forget? I thought both of us were goners."

Jim searched Kenny's green eyes for more clues, but he was forced to wait for the words themselves. "It was six or seven days later. We were at the café with the gang. We'd placed our order and were shooting the breeze as we waited for the chow. All of a sudden, I heard a rattling noise under our table. When I looked down, I saw two live grenades with the pins pulled. I shouted grenade, and pulled your arm to get you to move.

"You just weren't yourself that day, still hurting from the explosion at Enrique's, the death of those kids, and the grilling you got from our superiors on what went wrong with the mission. You were pretty much walking around in a fog. I tried to get you to talk about it, but you were tightlipped as usual.

"Anyway, you wouldn't run and I couldn't leave you there. You turned and looked out into the street. When I followed your gaze, we both saw Villanueva's kid just standing there filled with hatred. I pulled your arm again to get you to run, but you said something like I've got to save the kid.

"I knew it was hopeless to try and save him, so I decked you with a sucker punch and Jake helped me carry you away. We got about ten to fifteen feet away and the blast lifted us up and threw us down the block. The kid bought it with the explosion. You had to stay in the hospital for a few more days for observation and tests. That's about it."

"Was anyone else killed in the blast?" Jim asked hesitantly.

Kenny squirmed for a moment. "Yeah, there were others who couldn't get away in time or were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"How many?" Jim asked, knowing his expression revealed only a portion of the turmoil he felt inside.

"Ah, Jimmy, why put yourself through this? It's ancient history."

Ellison shook his head. "Because I need to know. Now, how many died in that blast?"

Kenny's gaze was directed at the floor and he finally answered, "About a dozen. The place was packed."

"A dozen more dead . . . because of me?"

Kenny was on his feet and at Jim's side in an instant. "No, Jimmy, because of him! It was Enrique Junior's fault. He was after all of us and almost succeeded."

Jim shook his head sadly. "But you weren't the one who killed his father."

Kenny put his hands in his pockets. "You can't know that the kid knew that."

Jim looked up at him. "You didn't see the look in that boy's eyes. I did. He knew it was me and he was willing to sacrifice his life to kill me."

Kenny glanced at him briefly before walking around the room. "I'm not going to argue that point with you. We'd be here all day if I did. That boy died in the blast, but I have to say that you shouldn't feel guilty about any of what happened. We did our jobs. There were just too many unknown factors in play that adversely affected the mission."

"And what about the café?"

"Well, the café . . . the café was also full of unknowns. I mean, how were we supposed to know Enrique's kid would try some foolhardy stunt like that? It was just one of those terrible things that happened in the course of life."

Jim mulled over his words, but didn't say anything. He heard the clatter of high heels and the scent of perfume. He stiffened as he realized the woman who had drugged him was approaching. As he glanced out the door, she passed by slowly enough to get a good look at Jim.

Her expression revealed shock as she recognized McCormack and then kept walking away. Jim shouted for the cop at the door, a stout man with curly hair and a bulldog attitude when it came to capturing crooks. "Andy, that's her! That's the woman who drugged me! Grab her!"

Andy Torres took off after her as Jim struggled to get out of bed. He nearly fell out, but Kenny caught him and pulled him back to safety. "Hold up there, Jimmy. I don't think you're up to chasing people down the hallways. Besides, you've been holding out on me. What's this about being drugged?"

Jim shifted to look around Kenny, but the hallway was still clear. There weren't any lingering signs that a police chase was under way. Ignoring Kenny, Jim reached for the phone just as Jim's regular RN appeared at his door.

"Is everything okay in here?" she asked breathlessly. Her scrubs were of a pale green background was filled with cheerful puppies bouncing around. It reflected a much different attitude than the prevailing mood of alarm in Jim's room right then.

Kenny looked to Jim and back at her. Jim had the phone between his ear and shoulder as he waited on hold. "Yeah, we're okay, but I'm calling in for backup for Torres."

The middle-aged nurse looked both scared and confused, as did Kenny. Jim made his call as quickly as possible and hung up. "Can you see anything?" he asked the nurse still lingering at the door.

She turned, looking down the hallway. "No, nothing."

"You better get hospital security up here," Jim said. He chewed on the inside of his lower lip for a moment. "I have a feeling this thing isn't over yet. Not by a longshot."

"They just found Torres' body," Simon said with a heavy sigh.

"Damn!" Jim cursed. He had a feeling they'd find a body sooner or later. Torres never returned or even called in. The optimists in the group were holding out for a hostage situation, but not Jim. He was getting a better sense of the woman who had been stalking him.

Kenny had left shortly after Jim's room became filled with hospital security and police staff. He promised to call Jim later. Jim glanced over to Simon and the man looked fit to be tied with the confirmation of Torres' death.

"Jim, we've got to find this woman. I've got a police artist coming over. Maybe between you, Blair, and myself, we can get a very good sketch of her to put out on the wires."

Jim didn't say anything. He was too much inside his thoughts to respond. He had a nagging feeling he knew the woman from somewhere in his past, but he couldn't remember where. And knowing Simon's disposition at the moment, he didn't need to hear about Jim's suspicions.

Blair walked into the room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw everyone. "Wh-what's going on?"

"Andy Torres is dead," Jim said quietly.

Sandburg's head popped around, looking at the empty chair in the hallway. "Oh God."

"Yeah, but we know who killed him. Well, we don't have a name, but she's been in my hospital room at least twice that I can remember in the course of the last few weeks."

"Who's that?" Blair looked like he was trying to catch up with everyone else, but was failing.

Simon said, "A nurse. That position would give her countless opportunities to drug Jim."

"Yeah, but what about the other times when Jim wasn't at the hospital? And why would a nurse be putting Jim through hell?"

Simon straightened his shoulders. "Because she wasn't really a nurse. At least not one in this hospital. The personnel supervisor has already been here."

"Not a nurse, but a woman with numerous disguises . . . "

Jim nodded. He was beyond tired now that the adrenaline rush had passed.

"Well, if we've all met her, that's a plus for our side. We know what she looks like. It's only a matter of time before you find her."

Simon agreed, but didn't look very enthusiastic about it. Jim understood why. Just knowing what a suspect looked like didn't mean it would be an easy arrest. She'd probably go into hiding now.

Jim's nurse came to the door and was stopped by a new man guarding the entrance. She showed him her credentials and was allowed to enter. "Mr. Ellison, I realize that a crime has taken place and a policeman is dead, but you are in the hospital for a reason. That reason does not allow for this type of stress. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask everyone to leave."

Jim started to protest, but Simon stopped him. "There's nothing more we can do here, Jim. We'll head back to the precinct and I'll keep you updated."

Jim frowned and shook his head, but the nurse stepped in. "Thank you, sir."

She assumed a position by the door, waiting for the unwelcomed occupants to leave.

Jim turned to Simon. "You don't have to go."

"It's time for us to leave and you know it. You just won't admit it."

Jim's head dropped back to his pillow. "Well, if you are all going to gang up on me, I don't have much of a choice. But you better keep me informed or I'll go into work myself to find out what's happening."

"No need for threats, Ellison," Simon said softly. "I'll talk to you soon."

A moment later, it was just Jim and the nurse, and then she left the room after giving him some medication. "You get some sleep, Detective, and consider that an order."

Yeah, right, like he could really sleep after that. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He had to admit he was pretty tired, but still . . .

Jim started snoring shortly after that thought.

7