confident woman is wrinkle free, walks like she owns the sidewalk and isn’t afraid to kick a little ass when the shoe fits. And if the ass is big, wear boots—preferably a pair you can run in should your aim be an inch or two off and the brute doesn’t go down.
Polax was speaking again. Casmir made eye contact, her eyes snapping like a bitch on fire.
He dismissed the look. “We never know what tomorrow will bring in the intelligence business, Balasi. Four days ago you were the actress. A busy little spy doing what you do best, playing games with a winning hand. But now your cards have been turned over and Petrov knows you outplayed him. Until we have him back, you’re—”
“A prisoner with an asshole jailer.”
“A jailer who has a reputation that gives new meaning to the word survival. I’m confident Fourtier will be able to protect you should your sunny disposition irritate the neighbors and start them hissing.”
Very funny, Casmir thought. If a reptile crossed her path, she was going to shoot it in the head with Yurii’s dependable Gyurza. She still had his gun, with a round of ammo guaranteed to turn Fourtier’s neighbors into leather shoes, complete with matching handbags.
“Your plane is waiting, and so is your mother. I’m sure Ruza will recover from her injuries in a few days.”
“Injuries. But you said—”
“The minor bump on the head and black eye haven’t slowed her down much.”
“Mama has a black eye?”
“In a few days she’ll look as beautiful as ever. Now get going.”
“But—”
“Your flight leaves—” Polax checked his watch “—in fifty minutes. Move your amazing ass, Balasi. I’ll be in touch.”
Pierce entered Merrick’s office at Onyxx in Washington expecting a pat on the back, and his vacation request confirmed. He and Jacy had managed to wrap up the kill-file mission and defuse a time bomb.
All was good, and now it was time for a little fun in the sun. He deserved it. He was anxious.
“Sit down, Pierce. That was a helluva job you did for us in Montana. Jacy’s back working for us. Polax is happy that Prisca has joined his team of female spies. And we have the original kill-file in our possession.”
“And Holic Reznik?”
“Holic is never going to see the light of day. His prison cell at Clume is now his permanent home.”
“And the Chameleon?”
“We’ve alerted the appropriate organizations directly involved in his intended mayhem. Of course, we still want him, but for now lives have been spared. You and Jacy can be damn proud of that. The agency is grateful.”
All in a day, Pierce thought. Now let’s settle on a date when I leave for my requested time off. He probably wouldn’t get a month like he’d asked for, but surely two weeks. He could live with that.
“Sorry to have to tell you this, but your request for vacation time has been denied.”
Pierce had just sat down. He looked across the desk at his commander in disbelief. He hadn’t had time off in over a year. Not unless they were counting his recovery time from taking those two bullets for Bjorn in Austria months ago. Rehab had been no picnic, but he’d gotten used to the routine. He had more bullet holes in him than all his teammates put together. Still, a little rehab hardly qualified as a vacation.
“You’re denying my request? Why?”
“Polax called and he’s got a problem.”
“Since when are his problems our problems? Or should I say, mine?”
“When they parallel our interests. He’s uncovered a critical piece of information, and that information could put us back on the trail of the Chameleon. Ever hear of a man named Yurii Petrov?”
“The Russian mobster, oui, I’ve heard of him. He’s doing time in a Czech prison.”
“Was. He escaped a week ago.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“I don’t have all the details. What I do know is that since he’s been in prison his operation has still been running smoothly. We know he’s the prime source for laundering the Chameleon’s money. Last week someone pulled off a billion-dollar weapons deal with the Russians. We believe it was the Chameleon.”
Pierce shifted in his chair and crossed his jean-clad leg over his knee, his frustration in check.
His comrades had given him the name Sleeper years ago because he seldom showed an ounce of emotion, or revealed what he was thinking. His self-control was what had kept him alive for thirty-five years. His lazy brown eyes gave the impression that even if his balls were on fire, he wouldn’t reach for a water glass.
He said, “You think he’s going to contact Petrov to clean his money?”
“He probably already has. Polax tells me Yurii Petrov keeps sophisticated records on all his clients. That means he’s got data on the Chameleon. We want it.”
“Do we know where Yurii Petrov keeps this data?”
“We think he has a command center somewhere in the Mediterranean. But so far we haven’t been able to lock in on the location. To infiltrate his core and retrieve the data we need to uncover his hideout. He calls it Nescosto Priyatna. Quest has been under some heavy ridicule since Petrov’s prison break. Polax is looking to redeem his agency. We’re looking for data on the Chameleon. I’ve met twice with Lev Polax and we’ve come up with a plan.”
“If you don’t know where to look, how are you—”
“Petrov has a score to settle with Quest. Polax believes he’s going to go after one of his operatives. The agent responsible for his seven months in prison.”
“How do I fit in?”
“When agencies work together good things can happen. The Austrian mission was proof of that. I’ve never been too proud to join forces with another agency if we can score a victory. Shutting down Petrov’s cartel would be a big perk for EURO-Quest. And I don’t have to tell you what it would mean to Onyxx if we can draw the Chameleon out of hiding to get another crack at him.”
Pierce could see that the idea thrilled Merrick. And why wouldn’t it? The Chameleon had been a dagger in Merrick’s side for fifteen years. This went far beyond just business with his boss. Everything involving the Chameleon was personal to Merrick.
“We’ve got the Chameleon’s original kill-file now. We’ve defused an international disaster and made friends along the way. It’s a victory, but what I…Onyxx wants is the Chameleon. I’d like to have been there when he learned that we had commandeered his kill-file. That bastard has been dogging me…the agency for too damn long.”
It was a fact, and Pierce understood Merrick’s frustration. His commander had been living with a sour taste in his mouth
