"The Chameleon"

Chapter Eight

Ellison was hanging from the rope unconscious once again after another grueling beating by Ramon. The young man wiped the sweat from his face and took the bottle of water offered by Anna.

She walked up to Jim, looking closely at the bruises and contusions covering his body. They were raised, some quite swollen and black with bruising. She brushed her fingers over the worst of them, seeing more than a few cuts that were bleeding. Her gaze went upward to his wrists.

"Ramon, we need to move him to the table."

"Why?" Ramon questioned her.

"I need to clean up some of these wounds."

"Why bother if we are going to kill him?"

Anna stared at Ramon. "If we want to drag out the process, then we must make sure he survives long enough for us to do that. I'll give him some water when he wakes up."

Ramon didn't look like he wanted to comply, but then turned toward Ellison, lifting his body up. Anna climbed on a step ladder and unhooked Jim's hands from the hook hanging from the ceiling. Together, they moved him to the table.

Anna brushed a hand through her hair and sighed. "This is becoming tedious, Ramon. Let's kill him and be done with it. Something is wrong here. I feel like we have overstayed our welcome. I think it is time to move on."

"No!" Ramon shouted. "I have been waiting for this for eight years! It started the moment the raid began and has consumed my life up until this very moment and I will not have it rushed, do you understand?"

Anna nodded, wiping more sweat from his brow and then slipped her hands around his waist. "Ramon, my love, we could keep this up until the day we die and it still wouldn't bring back the dead or satisfy our blood lust."

Ramon started chewing on one of her earlobes. "You may be right, but I know in my heart that we haven't made Ellison suffer enough yet. Soon, my love, very soon."

He stepped away from her and opened a gym bag, pulling out two very sharp knives. "Perhaps these will allow you to enjoy the process more."

Anna smiled as she took one of the blades from him, running her finger along its edge. "Perhaps," she said finally, handing them back to Ramon.

"I want to talk to him before you begin. Do not administer the next dose of the drug. I want him coherent when I speak with him."

"Your wish is my command," he whispered as he pulled away. "I need a shower."

"Maybe I will join you in this shower," she said as her hands ran across Ramon's chest.

"Again, your wish is my command."

Ramon took her back in his arms and kissed her deeply. Anna sighed with pleasure. Young Ramon was all she could ever ask for in a man. Devoted, handsome, and a superb lover.

Looking at Jim's unconscious form, she licked her lips. Soon, Ellison would be dead and a new life would begin for her and Ramon with the death of the soldier-turned-cop marking the end of their old one.

Ellison woke up lying on a table at the back of the room where he'd been hanging from a rope. There were bandages covering the areas on his body that Ramon had caused to bleed with his rapid fire blows. Jim was bewildered by the change. He was sure he'd die hanging from that rope, but someone had actually given him first aid.

Jim raised his head and moaned as a hundred different places on his body came alive with a roaring inferno of pain. It was so strong, it threatened to consume his mind, body and spirit. "Oh God," he hissed through clenched teeth, and then he heard a woman's laugh.

Cordova was taking pleasure in every bit of his pain. That was no surprise. She had already told him as much, along with the vow to kill him. By the feel of his battered body, death wouldn't be far off. Between the drugs and the beatings, he had been unconscious more than he'd been conscious. He had no idea of how many days he'd been held by them. The room had no windows, so Jim had nothing to mark the passage of time.

It could have been one day or fifteen with everything blurring together to become an eternity in hell. He hadn't eaten or drank anything since he'd been kidnapped. His mouth was dry, and his lips were swollen and bleeding. He could only see out of one eye. And he had developed a fever, probably due to dehydration and his injuries.

"Ellison?" Anna called to him.

He looked in her direction, realizing he was surprisingly alert. Anna stood from her chair and sauntered over to him, her shapely body exuding sexuality.

"Time for another round?" Jim asked with as much bravado as he could manage, speaking around swollen lips.

"Not yet," she held a sports bottle filled with water to his lips and squeezed so that the water trickled down into Jim's mouth. He drank all that she provided to him, but she stopped long before his thirst was quenched.

"No more for now. I wanted to talk to you before Ramon started using his knives on you."

She paused to allow her words to sink in. Jim kept his emotions from being revealed on his face, but a sick feeling twisted at his gut. Knives! Ah, shit!

"I want to make sure you are aware of certain details before you die."

"How kind of you to think of me at a time like this," Jim joked without a smile.

She circled him as he lay on the table, unable to move. Something reached Jim's senses with her so close to him and he was struck with sudden insight. "You were following me for a while before you started drugging me."

Anna looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"You were on my mind," he said enigmatically as he knew why his flashbacks started out of the blue. Some part of him must have been aware that he was being followed and her presence spurred the beginning of his flashbacks.

"Do you remember the layout of Enrique's compound?"

"It was a very long time ago."

"I think you remember more than you want to admit. I was there at Enrique's because his daughter, Marissa, was having a seventh birthday party. It was the reason why there were so many children there that night. Do you remember the children?"

With Anna's haunting words, Jim flinched. His reaction was much more pronounced now than when she had mentioned the knives or even when she talked about killing him. God, the children . . . how could he have forgotten about them?

Time slowed to a crawl as flashes of images blinded him to all but the memories and they were burst forth with the power of a raging river pouring over broken levee. First, it was the laughter of the children that stuck with him, and then it blended into a quickly snatched glimpse of a birthday party in progress.

Jim had taken point to reconnoiter, peeking into various windows before he saw the one with the birthday party in progress.

"Shit!" Jim whispered under his breath.

He glanced around, trying to think how the mission could be salvaged when he heard voices in the next room over. Peering over the corner of a window, he saw Enrique with Anna as they shared a drink, probably seeking refuge from the noise of the party next door. Jim snuck under the window and went past it to the nearest entrance.

Kneeling down, he contacted Kenny McCormack. "I've got a location on Villanueva, but there's a damned birthday party filled with kids going on in the room next door. I advise we wait until we have a safer acquisition," he whispered into the mike.

"Negative, Ellison. The colonel just called in. Our chopper is due to meet us at the rendezvous in fifteen minutes.

"Shit!" Jim cursed.

He glanced around him, trying to see an alternative and found none.

"Get back on the horn with Colonel Nelson and tell him he can wait another half hour. It's too hot right now."

"Roger that, but by the sound of his last message, he'll deny our request."

"Then tell him he better have a lot of body bags on hand, because this will get bloody."

Jim waited as he squatted behind some brush, watching the rear entrance of the building closely for any sign of activity. A minute later, McCormack called him back.

"Jimbo, it's a bust. We are to move in and be ready for pickup in . . . thirteen minutes."

"Damn!" Jim cursed.

He wiped the back of his gloved hand across his mouth. "Okay, we proceed with the plan. I will be out in less than five if everything goes well."

"And If it doesn't?"

Jim grunted. "You head back to the rendezvous."

"We won't leave you."

"You don't have much of a choice. That's an order. And keep your eyes open. This place is crawling with hostiles."

Jim turned and scanned the area once more before heading for the rear entrance. He made it to Enrique's location without a hitch. Cracking a door open, he looked around the room, and found there were just the two of them. All he had to do was subdue the woman and get Enrique.

He stepped into the room and aimed his rifle at the couple. "Don't move," he said in a loud whisper.

Enrique looked surprised, and then his expression changed to amusement. "You have got to be kidding. Do you know how many guards there are between you and the front gates?"

Jim didn't react. "Doesn't matter. I'll have you, so they'll back off."

Enrique set down his glass and started to walk toward him when Jim raised the muzzle of his rifle. "I said don't move."

Anna Cordova silently stood behind the bar. There was an exchange of looks that passed between Enrique and Anna, causing Jim to worry. Apparently, they knew something he didn't know. He had to grab Enrique and get out of there.

He tossed Villanueva some restraints. "Put one on her and then yourself."

Enrique stared at him for a moment, and began to do as he'd ordered. Soon, both of them were bound at the hands, but Jim could still feel the presence of imminent danger compelling him to move faster.

"Over here, Villanueva. Now."

Enrique started walking toward Jim, temporarily blocking Jim's view of the woman. She ducked behind the bar and came up with an Uzi. She started spraying bullets in Jim's direction. So much for the quick in-and-out that military intelligence had planned.

Jim ducked behind a sofa as Enrique hit the carpeting, getting clear of the bullets. Enrique pulled a knife from his boot and quickly cut through his restraints. As Jim fired back at Anna, Enrique snuck up on him and sliced his right forearm with the knife. Jim was able to buck him off his body, but Villanueva simply came back at him with the bloody blade again.

Jim only had a moment to act. He swung his rifle around and fired, hitting Enrique squarely in the chest. Anna screamed as she ran to his side. One glance at her lover's condition made her spin around with the Uzi, unloading the clip with her rage.

Jim rolled from his precarious position behind the couch to a large mahogany credenza, firing back at Anna with his rifle whenever he could. When he heard Anna at Enrique's side, he stood, and started to approach them with his weapon trained on the two.

He moved along the far end of the room, watching Anna closely. When she reared up and fired in his direction. Jim heard Enrique shout a warning to her. "No, Anna, you will hit the tanks!"

And then, from out of nowhere, an explosion threw Jim through one of the windows and the memory stopped.

Jim raised his head, looking at the present day Anna Cordova and compared her to the one he'd met briefly eight years ago, now seeing her in a new light. She had been responsible for killing Enrique and the children, and had somehow shifted the blame to Jim.

"I thought you had passed out on me," Anna said quietly.

"No, just taking a walk down memory lane."

"Wherever you were wasn't pleasant. Perhaps you were being visited by the ghosts of those you killed in the name of justice . . . "

Jim didn't say anything, just kept his gaze locked onto hers. "What was in that tank you ignited? Propane? Chemicals for refining the cocaine? Dammit, Anna, you killed those kids!"

Anna's expression crinkled for a moment as a wave of some emotion passed over her face before it disappeared. She walked up to Jim and slugged him in the chest as she screamed, "No! You killed them! It was because of you!"

Jim was drifting with an outgoing tide of pain and didn't care. In fact, he hoped he would pass out again since it was his only respite against the nightmare he was now living. Unfortunately, that wasn't to be.

Cordova regained her composure after a moment. "How dare you try to place the blame on me! You were responsible for that night, just as you were responsible for what happened at the café!"

With her mentioning the café, Jim was pulled back by new images now flashing in his head, drawing him back to the past again, but this time it was to the outdoor café in Lima.

There were six of them in the plaza that day. The weather was gorgeous. Jim set down his newspaper when the meals arrived, making his mouth water. There was a rattling noise of something hitting the legs of the table. He started to glance down when Kenny shouted, "Grenade!"

Kenny pulled him up by his good arm, but Jim was looking to see who had thrown the grenade. Precious moments were spent as he found a boy, no more than twelve, standing a few feet from them and watching them with more hatred than Jim could fathom. The boy was holding another grenade in his hand, preparing to throw it at Jim.

Kenny yanked Jim's arm again, more urgently this time. Jim looked to him in confusion and turned back to grab the boy and get him to safety, but Kenny hit him squarely on the jaw, and he went down. Jim was aware he was being carried, but everything went black after that.

A slap to his face brought Jim back to the present. There was a venomous look in Anna's eyes, something that chilled Jim to the core, and reminded him of Villanueva's son. She was

a stone-cold murderer, and apparently she didn't take any of the responsibility for the events she blamed Jim for causing.

"You know, Ellison, I was in a coma for nearly a year after that. When I came to, it took months of physical therapy just to be able to stand on my own, and then I had to learn how to walk again. Everything caused pain, and without Ramon's love to see me through, I might have killed myself," she paused and pinned Jim in place with a deadly gaze, "Soon, you will know that type of pain."

She drew her finger along Jim's abraded cheek. "I wanted to know you know exactly why you are suffering now and for you to remember those details with your last dying breath. Ramon will be in shortly to play with his new knives."

She touched him and there was a skin prick. The drug was back in his system. And she walked out without another word, leaving Jim to wonder about exactly how much time he had to live.

9