agree. The Chameleon is dead. I need to believe that. But our experts haven’t been able to ID the body as the Chameleon. It keeps coming up as Pavvo Creon. But we know that’s not possible. He’s been dead for fifteen years. I have to tell you that I’ve been playing around with the idea that maybe Polax is right. Maybe we’re about to see the Chameleon rise from the dead.”
“If he’s alive he could very well be the force behind Holic’s new game. But I’m still convinced that the Chameleon is dead.”
“Yes, he’s dead. That has to be him lying on that slab. But there could be someone in his organization who is pulling Holic’s strings. We know that the Chameleon’s mobocracy is still running full-throttle across the country. We know that promises were made between him and Holic. Maybe Holic is now loyal to a new man. As you said, he takes his spotless record seriously. It’s true the kill-file originated with the Chameleon, but whoever has picked up the reins could still be influencing Holic’s actions.”
“Enter in Holic’s love for money, and his equal contempt for us, and there you are,” Pierce added. “A binding relationship that even death won’t sever—or a change of rank at the top.”
“The Chameleon’s dead,” Merrick said again.
“I’m with you on that. I was there that day in Greece. I watched that yacht blow sky-high. We have his body at the morgue.”
“A body with someone else’s face and matching blood type,” Merrick reminded.
“We knew the Chameleon had had plastic surgery and taken Pavvo Creon’s face.
“But his blood, too?” Merrick shook his head, then came out with the reason he’d asked Pierce to join him in his office. “Here’s the deal. I thought you might do the leg work on this one for me since Bjorn brought you in at the end, and you’re familiar with the mission’s details and its outcome. It’s not too physical or dangerous, both considerations since you’re still in recovery. Most of this work can be done from here, with minimal travel.”
“Why not put Jacy on it? He was the controller for Bjorn. He knows the details, and probably has all the data meticulously filed for instant access. He’s the better man when it comes to details.”
“I asked him, but he turned me down. He says he’s retiring from Onyxx.”
“I don’t believe it. Give him a little more time. It’s not easy to shed a skin that fits, and this business fits him and his talents. As much as we would like to deny it, we all fit the mold. I hear he’s finally out of the wheelchair.”
“It’s true. Vic Kandle tells me he’s got a heavy limp and it’s permanent, but other than that, he’s on a comeback.”
“That means he’ll be getting bored up there on that Montana mountain one of these days.”
“We can only hope.”
“This kill-file…Onyxx is still convinced it’s on a time schedule and targeting active agents?”
“We believe it’s the Chameleon’s hate list. And the targets aren’t all field agents. But all are government intelligence of some kind. Not all the targets are active. There are a few retired names on the list.”
“I take it our names are on the list, too?”
This was the amazing part Merrick didn’t understand. “My entire team is on the list. You and the other rat fighters. Men I’ve worked with in the past, but not me.”
“You’re not on it?”
“Damn strange, don’t you think? I should top the list. We’ve been enemies for fifteen years.”
“That’s more than a little strange.”
“Our problem is, we’re back to square one now that a replacement has started to make Holic’s hits for him. We’re hunting for an unknown face, with no data on where he comes from.”
“And that’s where I come in?”
“Like I said, the paperwork on this can be done from behind your desk. With minimal leg work. I’d like you to schedule an appointment with the authorities in Brno, and check out the market square where the hit took place. Get in touch with British Intelligence and find out everything you can on Alton Bromly and his activities over the past nine years. Your nose is one of the best we have. You’ve always been able to see things no one else sees. Maybe we’re missing something.”
“Is that a nice way of saying I have a criminal mind?”
“No offense, but your past, as you said, fits the mold.”
“I know why I was asked to join Onyxx. And it wasn’t my good looks,” Pierce joked.
Merrick handed Pierce the file on his desk. “It’s all in there. Everything we have on Bromly and his years of service to Interpol. Look it over on the flight. Prep your deviant mind. There’s also a copy of our bogus kill-file in there.”
Pierce took the file. “Has Holic talked?”
“I’ve interrogated him a number of times since we locked him up. He claimed from the moment we captured him that the file wasn’t authentic. I didn’t believe it. I had no reason to until yesterday.”
“Have you talked to him since Bromly was hit?”
“Last night I flew up to Clume to see him. And now, after talking to you, I think you’re right. Holic has a new agenda.” Merrick opened his drawer and pressed Play on the tape recorder. “I took a recorder with me last night and taped my conversation with him.”
Within seconds Holic Reznik’s Austrian accent filled the room.
“You’re back, Merrick. Does that mean the killing has begun? Your silence must mean it has. And now you’re here to ask me who has filled my shoes, ja?”
“Who is your replacement, Holic? Who has the kill-file?”
“If I tell you it would end all the fun. I told you that your kill-file was a fake, but you didn’t believe me. Do you believe me now? The look on your face tells me you do.”
“Who is your replacement, Holic? Give me the name of the man who has taken up your cause.”
“A ten-million-dollar question. Are you willing to match that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look at my hands. I can barely feed myself thanks to Bjorn Odell and that bitch, Nadja Stefn. I’m too young to live my life sucking my food through a straw. A heavy price to pay for killing a few insignificant people, don’t you think?”
“I’ll ask again. Who has the original kill-file? Who shot Alton Bromly?”
“Perfection has replaced perfection, that’s who. Like fine wine, it’s all in the fruit and how it’s taken care of while it matures on the vine.”
“You talk in riddles.”
“A riddle that, if you figure
