8
Chameleon
Chapter Four
"Just my luck, I get a state of the art TV and I'm stuck here with a stinking antique."
"Can't get antique TVs Tony, antiques have to be at least one hundred years old."
"I'm on the edge here Tim, don't push me. This thing doesn't even have cable." He threw the remote on the coffee table. "What are you still doing here? You have a home to go to."
Tim sat on the couch beside his very tense friend; the safe house wasn't luxurious by any means, but it was comfortable and clean, and most important, its location was known to very few people. Right now he'd take the whining without complaint so long as Tony didn't repeat his threat to go back to his own apartment, he'd be a verbal punch-bag as long as necessary to keep Tony secure.
"You have a home Tony; it's just not safe to be there right now."
"I'd rather take my chances there than rot in this...look at it, nothing but brown as far as the eye can see."
Tim couldn't help smiling, there was a lot of wooden furniture, the couch was upholstered in brown corduroy, even the kitchen cabinets were dark wood; it was all such a contrast to Tony's light, airy apartment. "Not exactly cheery I'll admit."
"Then get me out of here Tim, let me go home,"
"Not happening Tony, and seriously, do you want to put your new TV at risk; remember what happened to your stereo last time someone hit your apartment? Hey, I saw that, there was a definite smile there."
"Busted! Guess it's not so bad here if I've got good company, some of the agents on my security detail...no sense of humour." He leaned back with a sigh. "Seems like I've got a target posted on my back, only this time it feels different. When someone's been after me before, or after us, we've been able to get to the bottom of it, find out why we were targeted. This time...nothing."
"Nothing so far Tony, doesn't mean we won't get there. I know you're frustrated, we are too, you've seen Gibbs, he's doing his best grizzly bear impression. Abby, she's mainlining Caf-Pow so she stays alert in case we get more evidence. The Director has every available agent working this, lots of favours being called in from other agencies."
"And we've still got squat! I can't do this much longer Tim, I'm going stir-crazy and I'm not even locked up."
Gibbs had agreed to have Tony work with them at NCIS during the day, and it had been a good decision, Tim didn't want to think what Tony's mental state would be if he was cooped up in the safe house all day, every day.
"Come on Tony, we're unstoppable remember?"
"Virtually."
"Totally! We're going to find who's behind this threat, and we're going to catch The Chameleon before he gets to you. We've got your back Tony, like always; we look out for each other."
Tony put his arm round Tim's shoulder and gave him a brief hug.
"Hey Tony, no getting mushy on me; you told me this thing has a DVD player right?"
Tony nodded, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. Tim reached into his back pack. "I was thinking about what you said when I fixed your TV, made it easy to choose a movie for tonight."
Tony took the plastic case from Tim and tried hard not to let his disappointment show. "Yeah...good choice, haven't seen Sleepless in Seattle in a while."
Tim tried to keep his face straight, he really did, but seeing Tony's expression he couldn't help himself, he grinned. "You really think I'd do that to you when you're under pressure? Open the box Tony."
Tony's eyes lit up when he did as Tim instructed. "Blazing Saddles! Mel Brooks at his hilarious best, great choice Tim. Are you going to watch with me?"
"Sure; if you do just one thing for me."
"Don't worry, I won't talk during the movie, I promise."
NCIS NCIS
"Name?"
"William Cahill."
The Marine on duty checked his list of approved visitors. "You're here to see Doctor Mallard?"
"That's correct."
"Here's your visitor badge, please wear this at all times. Take a seat sir; I'll call security to escort you to Autopsy."
He sat on the chair indicated, still barely able to believe he was so close to his target. It wasn't the first time in his career he'd breached a high-security building, but never before had he been invited inside.
His career...how very far he had strayed from his original path, from actor to assassin, did he regret his choice, was it even a choice? Sometimes it seemed as if killing was what he had been born to do. After Naylor's death he'd left the sale of his home in the hands of an estate agent along with his bank account details for any eventual payment. It had taken time to sell the house, but by then his money troubles were a thing of the past; he'd headed to London to seek his fortune, as so many had before him. Unlike them, he was under no illusions as to how hard life was in the capital, it took time for him to make the contacts he knew could help him pursue his new-found skill. He didn't waste the time; he took classes in martial arts, spent hours in the gym, practised his makeup and voice skills, anything he thought he might require to evade detection.
After several abortive attempts to get deep inside the East End gang scene he'd struck gold when he assisted a highly placed gang member during a potentially explosive pub confrontation. Over time he'd made himself indispensable to the gang, running errands, delivering drugs, collecting debts, handing out punishments, and eventually they'd asked him to take out a turncoat member. The killing had been quick, clean and unsolved, from that day he was given more contracts and eventually came to the attention of the most skilful and feared killers the world had ever known, an organisation with its roots in the Crusades of the eleventh century, The Assassins.
He'd left England without a qualm; the world was his to explore, no one was safe when The Assassins agreed to kill them. They could always run, and many did, but they couldn't hide.
"Mr Cahill, please follow me."
He followed the tall man to the elevator, with a satisfied smile he stepped inside, closer, he was getting closer.
NCIS NCIS
"So William, what do you think of NCIS?"
"Absolutely fascinating, from the outside it looks a little...jaded, outdated, but when you get inside, goodness, everything is very much up to the minute, and your forensic scientist, she's something else."
"Indeed, Abigail marches to the beat of her very own drummer, but don't let the tattoos and strange attire fool you, she has a razor sharp mind and is a first-rate scientist."
Jeremy found that hard to believe, but he of all people knew better than to be fooled by appearances. "She certainly knows her way around the lab, it has been an amazing experience Donald, I can't thank you enough for allowing me to visit you here. I know it will help me tremendously when I come to write my book."
"Think nothing of it William, we may not be at the cutting edge of crime fighting, we're a little too far down the federal food chain for that, but we do our best, and if it doesn't sound too boastful, I have to say I think we do a pretty good job. Now, before you go how would you like to sit in one of our interrogation rooms, get a feel for what it's like to be on the other side of the law?"
"Sounds great, lead on Donald."
As they walked along the corridors to the interrogation area Jeremy was weighing up his options. Killing DiNozzo inside the NCIS building was looking like a suicide mission, if he did manage to get close enough to his prey there was no way he could kill him and get out of the building without detection. The contract bonus could still be earned if he killed DiNozzo within the Navy Yard, if the building was out of the question he'd have to look a little further afield.
"Penny for them William?"
He gave a quick chuckle. "My apologies Donald, I'm afraid I'm already working out how to fit what I've seen today into my book. This visit has given me so much material, I really can't thank you enough."
"Nonsense, it's always a pleasure to show such an enthusiastic visitor around. Here we are, interrogation; these rooms have housed some of the worst dregs of society...oh, Timothy, I didn't think anyone was in here, the light outside..."
"It's okay Ducky, so long as you're not saying I'm one of the dregs." Tim's eyebrows went up as he gave his visitors a wry smile.
"Never! Special Agent Timothy McGee, I'd like to introduce William Cahill, a new friend from the old country."
"Good to meet you." Tim shook hands with Cahill and turned to gather up his papers.
"Don't let us disturb you Timothy."
"Not a problem, I came down here for a little peace and quiet, Tony...he's kind of antsy today."
"Understandably so; please, don't let us hurry you away."
"It's fine Ducky; I should get back, don't like to leave him to his own devices too long. I'll let you carry on with your visit."
Ducky hadn't intended introducing William to Timothy; he didn't want to put Tim on the spot regarding his writing, but now the opportunity had arisen so fortuitously it seemed a shame to let it pass. If he put it subtly Tim would have the option of not mentioning his alter ego if he wished. "William is fascinated by our work Timothy; he's researching for a book he hopes to have published."
"If I ever get a publisher." William shrugged. "To be honest even if I never publish, I'm having a great time doing the research, if that doesn't sound weird."
Tim was half-way through the door, but he smiled at William, oh yes, he remembered how tough it was to find a good publisher. "Look, I don't have time to talk now, but if you need any advice you can give me a call, Ducky has my number, and if you give him your email I can send you the names of some reputable literary agents."
"That...that's very good of you, thank you."
"You're welcome. See you later Ducky." He gave a quick wave and was gone.
Jeremy took a deep breath, that had been an unexpected and unwelcome encounter. He had hoped his visit would have been concluded without meeting a member of DiNozzo's team, the more distance he kept between them the better.
"Are you alright William, you seem a little breathless?"
He had to think fast to cover his momentary loss of control. "I just can't believe I've done it again...that was Thom E. Gemcity wasn't it, and I let him go without telling him how much I enjoy his books. First not recognising your name, now a bestselling author...I'm losing my touch."
"Not at all, this is hardly the kind of environment where you would expect to meet a fully fledged crime novelist, it's no wonder you missed it. Now, would you like to take a seat and picture yourself as a criminal?" Jeremy sat down opposite the two-way mirror, oh if only you knew Doctor Mallard, if only you knew.
The rest of his visit passed without incident, he'd taken McGee's number, and left Ducky with one of the many email addresses he had, they were never used, not by him, but they were useful when he needed an address in a hurry. As he left the Navy Yard he took the piece of paper with McGee's number, tore it up and threw it in the nearest trash can, no call to keep something he was never going to use. He boarded the Metro with a broad smile on his face; his next kill was close, so close he could almost taste it.