11

Chameleon

Chapter Five

He examined his reflection in the full-length mirror of his hotel room. The man looking back at him had dark, wavy hair, a neat moustache and goatee beard transformed his face from the blue-eyes blonde who'd played bridge with Donald Mallard. Brown contact lenses masked his hazel eyes, he'd dyed his eyebrows and put in a partial denture to transform the shape of his mouth, no one who had ever met William Cahill would recognise this man.

His clothes had been carefully chosen, designed to make him blend into the background. He'd purchased the outfit over several days and using several identities; even if his mission was simply to buy clothes from thrift stores he was careful to avoid the possibility of anyone picking up a pattern of behaviour on CCTV. He was satisfied with his choice; black jeans, pale blue shirt, last season's Nikes, he slipped on a slightly shabby leather jacket to complete the ensemble. Very carefully he put his knife in the special pocket he'd stitched inside the jacket; the knife was razor sharp, a custom-made ceramic blade which enabled him to get through metal-detectors unchallenged.

Finally, he picked up his NCIS ID card and slipped it in his back pocket, the forgery was perfect, as he'd known it would be when he requested it. All he had to do was send a photograph of his chosen make-up and one of the networks of Assassin experts created the ID; he'd collected it from a designated drop-site and the final piece of his persona was in place.

He checked the room one last time, everything he had bought in with him had been removed except for the bag he would pick up on his way out. It was a routine he carried out every time on the day of a kill; all the prosthetics he'd used, the hairpieces, the make-up had been dumped in garbage cans throughout the neighbourhood. His clothes were deposited in recycling bins, the credit cards he'd used cut into pieces and trashed; anything that might conceivably have traces of his DNA or hair were gone. He didn't have to clean the room of fingerprints; they had been removed, painfully and efficiently, soon after he was recruited by The Assassins.

Satisfied that he'd left nothing incriminating behind he took the elevator down to reception, and dropped his key-card in the express checkout box. He was eager to be on his way, but there were a few things he had to discard before he journeyed to the Navy Yard. Everything he had planned was in place, today was the day Anthony DiNozzo Junior would meet his maker.

NCIS NCIS

"If I have endangered Anthony I will never forgive myself. How could I be so foolish? He was so charming, full of tales of England...he played me and I fell for it hook, line and sinker."

"Don't beat yourself up Duck, he hasn't evaded capture so long because he's an amateur, he's good at what he does." Ducky had been despondent ever since Tim did a background check on William Cahill and came up blank, it was as if the man didn't exist.

"But how could I miss it? Suddenly out of nowhere, there's someone from the UK, who not only excels at bridge, but knows a very great deal about forensics, particularly psychological autopsies, and he just happens to turn up at one of my bridge evenings...it's true what they say, there's no fool like an old fool."

Gibbs put a hand on his old friend's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "Never met less of a fool in my life than you Duck. This guy, you think he's called The Chameleon because he stands out? He's made a career out of being someone he's not, moving around in plain sight without anyone knowing what he's really doing, if you've been fooled, it was an expert who fooled you."

Ducky slumped lower in his chair. "That should make me feel better, but it doesn't...I brought him inside Jethro, right here into the heart of NCIS. He knows the building, where we work; I might as well have given him a map."

"You didn't take him into the squad room, or MTAC, or Cyber Crimes, or any of the other places out of bounds to regular visitors; he doesn't know where we work or our security systems. Don't worry; we're watching out for Tony, why do you think McGee checked on Cahill? We're not taking any chances Duck, Tony's going to be okay."

NCIS NCIS

He joined the throng moving toward the gate; this was by far the busiest time of the day for admissions into the Navy Yard and had been deliberately chosen. A steady stream of people filed through the gates, the guards checked their ID badges, but in truth it was mostly a brief look and a wave through, just as he'd hoped. The only danger was if he was selected for a spot check, if they did a body search they couldn't fail to find the knife, but if his previous observations told him anything, they told him it was only people setting off the metal detector who were frisked. He forced himself to relax as his turn came, and walked through the barriers without incident, he was inside, now all he had to do was wait for DiNozzo to leave the building. He was a patient man, and if he didn't get his opportunity until DiNozzo left for the safe house he'd take his chances...if he had to kill the two people on security detail to get to DiNozzo, so be it, he'd done it before, and he had no qualms about leaving collateral damage in his wake.

The NCIS headquarters building loomed large, but that wasn't his destination; he was going to spend his time outside, exploring the refreshment areas, the gardens, the riverside walks. He wanted to know this area like the back of his hand, when he killed DiNozzo, he'd need a quick escape route, and if his prey did spend any time outside he wanted to find the perfect place to carry out his task.

NCIS NCIS

"Why don't you admit it, the BOLO's useless, you may have a picture of this William Cahill guy, but who says that he still looks like this? Heck, we know for a fact the one person he won't look like is Cahill." Tony was pacing back and forth, staring up at the image on the plasma, trying to see beyond the flat two-dimensional picture to see the real man behind the mask.

Tim looked up from his screen, he'd been sending out further information on the BOLO, determined to stay positive if only for Tony's sake. "We've got more than we had forty-eight hours ago; at least we know how tall he is."

"Unless he was wearing built-up shoes, face it Tim, we've got...Ow!"

"You say nothing one more time Tony, we won't have to worry about The Chameleon, I'll kill you myself." Gibbs pointed to Tony's desk. "You want us to have more, then work, we have surveillance footage, how about you stop whining and start looking."

"On it." Tony took a DVD from the selection on his desk and with a deep sigh opened the disc drive on his computer. He knew Gibbs was only trying to keep him focussed, everyone was on edge, they were all trying so hard to catch the guy, and he was grateful, but he couldn't help feeling he was on the end of a line and was just waiting for someone to reel him in and make the kill.

The shrill ringtone on Gibbs' phone broke the uncomfortable silence. "I'm on my way Abs." He hurried down to the lab and Tim gave Tony a quick smile.

"He's worried too Tony, only he doesn't know how to say..."

"I know...just don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Not much longer Tony, we're getting closer, I feel it. I've got a satellite link with Abu Dhabi; you want to join me in MTAC?"

"Nah, might as well do as Gibbs says, who knows I might even find the needle in the needle stack." They both smiled at Ziva's fondly remembered struggles with English idiom and went about their tasks.

NCIS NCIS

It had been a fruitful morning, the area surrounding the headquarters building was well-served by CCTV cameras, but the coverage was by no means universal, and he'd identified several potential kill sites. He'd settled on a bench near the river where he could see the comings and goings from the building, it also gave him a good sight-line to the refreshment carts, all he needed now was for DiNozzo to come through those doors...this couldn't be; it was too good to be true. Walking out into the bright sunshine was the man who was going to make him a millionaire, and he was alone.

This was no time to hurry, watch and wait; see where he was going. Coffee, of course he'd be going for coffee, okay that worked, it was one of the scenarios he'd planned in advance. He got up from the bench and headed for the refreshment cart, don't rush, wait for the right moment.

Tony took a sip of his coffee, it tasted good, so much better out here in the fresh air; he'd take a few minutes to feel the sun on his face, then go back inside.

"Agent DiNozzo, hey! Wait up please."

Tony stopped and turned around to see a face he didn't recognise, he wasn't concerned, the bearded man was wearing NCIS ID, he was one of their own.

"Sorry to hold you up Agent DiNozzo, you don't know me, I started just last week on the Communications Team; Luke Stirling."

"Good to meet you, seems like you already know me."

"You're pretty well known around the Navy Yard, I...if you have a minute I was hoping you could settle an argument. I was going to check Google later, but seeing you, seems like too good an opportunity to miss. Everyone tells me you're the go-to guy when there's any question about movies."

Tony smiled. "Can't deny it; so what's your question?"

"There's a guy on the team, thinks he knows it all; he tried to tell us there's a movie based on an Ian Fleming book that's not a Bond movie. I mean, is he serious?"

Tony laughed and nodded his head. "Serious as a heart attack. 1968, Dick Van Dyke...ringing any bells?"

"Nothing. I can't believe he's right; man, we'll never hear the last of this." He started walking, taking it slow so that DiNozzo wouldn't even notice they were moving; he would get him away from the lively groups enjoying their drinks and snacks. From everything he'd learned about DiNozzo, now he had him talking about movies there'd be no stopping him; if things went to plan he'd have time to let DiNozzo know why he was about to die without drawing undue attention to their conversation.

NCIS NCIS

The visit to MTAC had been fruitless, Tim knew they'd get a lead eventually, he just wished it would happen soon. As he went downstairs back to the squad room he put a smile on his face so Tony wouldn't see his disappointment. He needn't have bothered, Tony wasn't there. "Hey Dorneget, where's Tony?"

"He...he said he wanted coffee, told me to wait here."

"You don't leave his side, which part of that order didn't you understand?" Tim was angry, and he was worried, the mood he was in who knew what Tony would do if he was unsupervised?

Dorneget took a step back; he'd never seen McGee so mad. "How much trouble could he get into between here and the break room?"

Tim didn't stop to answer, he hurried to the break room and wasn't surprised to see Tony wasn't there; Dorneget was at his heels red-faced and breathless. "Is he...?"

"No, I'm going outside, go find Gibbs, hurry!"

Tim raced for the stairs and hurried outside, trying to tell himself he was being over-anxious, so what if Tony had gone out for coffee, surely he'd stay close? Tim wasn't taking any chances, he would find Tony and he would get him back inside, kicking and screaming if need be.

Tim scanned the line at the coffee cart, the benches scattered around the grass, he wasn't here...wait, over by the river, and he wasn't alone...Tim sprinted across the grass, his hand going for his gun, damn! It was still in his drawer, probie move McGee, never leave the building without your gun. Take a breath; think...if the guy engrossed in conversation with Tony was a colleague Tim would look pretty stupid calling him out, didn't matter, he'd take the egg on his face just so long as Tony was safe. He was a few paces away when the two men looked up and in the face of the stranger was a look, for a fleeting moment a look he'd seen before, just before William Cahill was introduced to him he'd looked at Tim with that exact expression, a mixture of surprise and alarm, it was him, The Chameleon. As their eyes met, Jeremy knew McGee had recognised him, he reached for his knife, McGee first, then DiNozzo, he could do it, he was fast enough.

Tim threw himself at The Chameleon and called out. "It's him Tony, get away!" Tony acted instinctively, pulled the lid from his coffee cup and threw it at the man who was thrusting toward him 'Stirling' was momentarily blinded by the hot liquid and lashed out with the knife. Tim gasped as he felt the sharp blade, he took a breath, just a scratch, he was okay...he grappled with the bearded man, Tony reached for his gun. "Federal Agent, drop the weapon! You're done, put down the knife."

Jeremy tried to get a grip on McGee, if he could get a hold on him he could use him as leverage to get away from here, but he couldn't, he wasn't about to give up, he had to get to DiNozzo, his life's work couldn't end with failure. McGee lashed out with his foot, kicking Jeremy's leg from under him, he sprawled on the ground, and as he felt the cuffs biting into his wrists he saw two guns pointing at his head...so, this was the famous Agent Gibbs.

"You heard the man, you're done. Get him up McGee; I want to look this piece of scum in the eye."

Tim got to his feet, grabbed the man's arm and pulled him up to face his boss. Jeremy gave up the struggle, it was time, after so many successful kills, he'd failed...and he knew the price of failure. Throughout their existence Assassins had retained their secrets by one simple tenet, never be taken prisoner; he bit down hard on the denture in his mouth.

Gibbs was the first to realise what was happening, as The Chameleon dropped to the ground, droplets of saliva staining his beard he knelt beside him, trying to get his fingers inside his mouth, to stop him ingesting the full dose of poison; he wanted him to face a court for his crimes, if he was going to die it shouldn't be under his own terms. It was too late, as the paroxysm continued the man's breathing faltered then stopped, a few moments later he was still, Gibbs felt for a pulse knowing he wasn't going to find one. "He's gone..."

Tony was shaking and shaken, he'd been so close; if Tim hadn't...he looked at his partner for the first time and gasped. "Tim, you're hurt!"

"It's a scratch Tony, see; barely broke the surface."

Gibbs took out his phone and selected a number from his contacts list. "Duck, I'm out near the Barry, got a body for you...yeah, within walking distance; get Jimmy, bring a gurney and Duck, bring your medical bag too, I've got a live one for you to look at."

"Boss, I'm..."

"Going to have Ducky look you over, sit McGee. Tony, how are you doing?"

He was staring down at the contorted body of the man who'd been willing to kill him purely for financial gain. "He had me Boss, I never thought...went along with him like a lamb to the slaughter."

"He was clever Tony, only this time, not clever enough."

"Thanks to Tim; how did you know?"

Tim shrugged. "All I wanted at first was to get you back inside and knock some sense into you. When I saw you with him I felt...scared I guess, it felt wrong. Then I saw his eyes and I knew I'd seen him before." A wave of nausea washed over him, they'd come so close to losing Tony.

"Steady McGee, breathe deep."

"I...I'm okay Boss, just hit me, if I hadn't met Cahill that day..."

"Lucky for Tony you did. Maybe Ducky's autopsy will tell us who this guy really is; Dorneget, get Tony back inside, just because one killer is gone doesn't mean the threat's over."

EPILOGUE

Her husband had been spending many hours in his study, and usually she respected his desire for privacy, but this news couldn't wait. Suheera opened the door quietly, Mohammed was on the phone, she would wait.

"It is taking so long...yes, I am aware I told you time was not an issue, but I find each day that passes without news of his death is a day too long." He became aware of another presence in the room and turned to see his wife standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face, he slammed down the phone. "What are you doing here? I was conducting a private conversation."

"A death, why do you talk of a death, what have you done my husband?"

"You question me?"

"I do, you have been so distant since...since dear Faisal was taken from us, you sit in here hour after hour, is this what you have been doing, planning a death? Who is to die Mohammed, please tell me?"

"He must pay Suheera, you must see, DiNozzo, he killed our son."

She hurried to her husband's side. "No! Oh my very dear man, he did not kill Faisal, an accident, his death was an accident."

"But DiNozzo took him away, he took my son as I will take his."

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach, she couldn't breathe. "His son...you plan to kill his son?"

"There must be balance my love, a life for a life, it has always been this way."

"Then it must stop!" Her shock was turning to anger. "How many lives have been lost to the futility of revenge? Stop it now!"

It was Mohammed's turn to be shocked, his wife had never spoken to him this way. "I do not know if I can, or even if it is right that I should cancel the contract."

"Contract! Is that what you call it to justify what you do! Mohammed, our son drove his car too fast, you know this. He had always done so, our desert roads are more forgiving, in Monaco...perhaps it was his time, Allah knows, we do not. Stop this now, before your grandchild is born, do not let the child's life be stained by your sin."

This news was almost overwhelming. "A grandchild...Maisarah?"

"It is true, our dear daughter is to have a baby; a new life. You said it yourself, a life for a life; Maisarah's baby will never replace Faisal, but think my love, this baby is our blood. Do it Mohammed, end this futile revenge or I swear to you on Faisal's grave, I will send our daughter and her husband away, and you will never see you grandchild."

She swept from the room, her face set with fierce determination. Mohammed leaned on his desk, his heart was racing, his palms were damp, there was so much to absorb, not least the fact that his wife would make such a threat...no, he knew her better, it wasn't a threat, it was a promise. Since losing Faisal he had neglected her, neglected Maisarah too, and now such joyous news, a grandchild, perhaps a grandson to continue the family line...Suheera was right, he had to put a stop to the contract; he would not allow an innocent to die when his family was soon to welcome an innocent life of its own.

He picked up the phone and dialled the number that was now etched in his memory, he knew full well that the money he had already paid was gone; it didn't matter, mere money was a small price to pay if he could hold his grandchild in his arms and if he could show Suheera how much he loved her.

THE END of Chameleon, Tony and Tim's alphabetical journey continues with Debt, coming soon…