Chameleon Uncovered

by BR Kingsolver

  He turned back to his driving, or flying. I didn’t know what to call it. I’d never driven or flown an aircar. His face looked like it was set in stone, and I could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

  “How far away are we?” I asked.

  “Another twenty minutes,” he answered.

  Wil brought the car down near a cluster of emergency vehicles two blocks away from the scene of the bombings.

  “Stay here,” he said, then got out and went around to the back of the car. He came back, opened my door, and handed me a combat vest like the one he was wearing. It didn’t match my dress, but I put it on anyway. One of his men handed him two helmets, and he handed one to me. Luckily, I had worn boots with low heels.

  “This really isn’t fashionable,” I told him. “Do you think you can find the budget to redesign your assault wardrobe? You’re never going to attract many female recruits if you dress them like this.”

  He just rolled his eyes.

  I followed him and some SWAT team personnel forward. We reached about a dozen men hiding behind a couple of armored vehicles. Some of the men wore Chamber SWAT uniforms, others were from the Chicago police.

  I peered past them and saw several vehicles, including a fire truck and three ambulances, sitting in the street. I counted five bodies lying about, and I could see the blackened storefront that must have been the bombed tavern.

  “Status,” Wil ordered.

  “About fifteen minutes after the first medical and security personnel arrived, a second bomb went off,” one of the Chamber men said. “We checked like you told us, and we’ve identified at least one more device planted on the block beyond. We can’t get any closer, though, because of the snipers.”

  “Where?” Wil asked.

  “The copter took out a couple of the bastards on a rooftop over there,” the man pointed. “But the guys on that rooftop,” he pointed again, to a closer building, “are under a metal awning on the roof. They can’t get out without exposing themselves, but we can’t get to them. No place to land, either.”

  As if to add a punctuation mark to his report, I heard several shots in quick succession and bullets bouncing off the armored cars and pavement around us.

  “Wil, this isn’t fun,” I said.

  “You’re the one who insisted on coming along.”

  “That’s not a very chivalrous answer. So, what’s the plan? We’re going to sit here all night hoping they’re stupid enough to jump out of their cover and be gunned down by the helicopter?”

  Everybody gave each other blank looks, which told me that I’d hit the nail on the head. I grabbed Wil’s jacket sleeve and pulled him toward me.

  “What you’re going to do is cover me. Lay down suppressing fire so that I can get to the base of that building in one piece. Understand?”

  “How the hell do you know so much about this? First responder targeting. Suppressing fire. You sound like some kind of commando.”

  With a sigh, a big sigh to express my frustration with someone asking stupid questions, I pulled out my phone and did a search. Then I shoved the display in front of his face.

  “Counterinsurgency Tactics by Jason Bouchard. He’s written fifteen books, including five on the history of different terrorist movements. Other little girls read books about ponies and princesses, but I had fucking quizzes on this shit when I was growing up.” I shook my head. “I never doubted my father loved me, but he had zero idea about how to raise a girl.”

  At first, he just stared at the screen, then the laughter sort of bubbled up from inside him. “Oh, hell, Libby. I’m so sorry,” he gasped between bursts of laughter. “I’ll never doubt you again.”

  “I’ll remember you saying that. Wil, if I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, or if I don’t know something, I’ll tell you. All my pride is bundled into what I can do. Okay? I’m more than happy to back off and let experts take care of things.”

  “Okay.” He flipped up the visor on his helmet, then flipped up the visor on mine, leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Suppressing fire. What are you going to do?”

  I winked at him. “Surprise the hell out of everyone, I hope.”

  Crouching low, I moved toward the end of the armored car on our right and readied myself to run. I looked back at Wil.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m ready. Don’t I look like I’m ready?”

  All of the men popped up and started shooting at the snipers. At the same time, the helicopter swooped in and added its machineguns to the effort. I jumped up and sprinted down the street. When I reached the sniper’s building, I dodged into the side street next to it.

  The building was fairly new, and the mortar between the bricks was fairly smooth. But the window sills and headers above the windows provided hand holds. I pulled my pistol out of my purse and strung a length of nylon through a ring on the butt, tied it off, and hung it around my neck. Then I took off my boots and sat them down next to my purse.

  Luckily, I don’t wear tight skirts, so my dress didn’t bind my legs as I began my climb. It wasn’t the easiest climb I’d ever done, nor was it the hardest. About twenty minutes after I started, I pulled myself over the parapet onto the roof of the three-story building.

  From where I lay, I couldn’t see the snipers, though I could see part of the metal awning they hid beneath. I looked around and saw the helicopter about two hundred yards away and preparing to turn back toward me.

  I invoked my chameleon ability and blurred my form, becoming invisible against the background of the roof.

  Taking my pistol in hand, I checked to make sure the silencer was securely in place. I crept toward the snipers’ hiding place as carefully as I could, trying to keep the vestibule where the stairs exited to the roof between us.

  When I peeked around the vestibule, I saw two men with assault rifles on tripods to hold the barrels of the guns steady. They were sitting on a spread-out blanket, and they had a picnic cooler. Half a dozen empty beer bottles lay about.

  The lack of professionalism offended me. Holding my pistol in a two-handed grip, I sighted on the head of the man closest to me and pulled the trigger. He slumped forward and lay still. The other man turned to look at him, a startled expression on his face, and I shot him in the chest.

  Holding my breath, I waited for any reaction. Since I couldn’t see the door leading to the stairs, I didn’t know if any of their friends waited inside. The helicopter made another pass, but didn’t come too close. The snipers had fired at it several times.

  I was concerned that the copter might decide to shoot at me. From the time I started climbing the building, I had been out of its sight. Dropping my camouflage and becoming visible might not be the best idea.

  My phone was in my purse. Too late to fix that oversight. Crawling back down the wall wasn’t an option. I pondered for a few minutes what I should do, then decided that my best option was to try the stairs.

  Slipping around the side of the vestibule, I stooped to pick up one of the discarded beer bottles. I couldn’t hear anything inside, so I took the chance and tossed the bottle through the doorway. It made a hell of a racket as it bounced down the steps, and I winced as I heard it break in the distance. I listened hard, but only heard silence.

  I peeked around the corner into a darkness much deeper than that on the rooftop. A stolen glance toward the snipers showed that neither of them had moved. If they weren’t dead, they were either incapacitated or the best actors I’d ever seen.

  Although I had left my purse and boots, I still had a few tricks and I pulled the stiletto out of my bra. Crouching as low as I could, with a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other, I began making my way down the stairs.

  At the bottom, I found a narrow landing with broken glass and a door that opened outward. Shuffling my feet to try and prevent stepping on any glass, I moved behind the door, turned the knob, and pulled it toward me. Faint light from beyond lit the landing and allowed me to see
the glass on the floor. Even better, I couldn’t hear anything past the doorway.

  But I did hear something above me. The man I had shot in the chest stumbled down the stairs, and for the first time I got a good look at him. Blood from his mouth covered his chin and stained the front of his shirt. He shouldn’t have been walking, but pseudo-vampires are tough.

  I raised my gun and fired, but only grazed his cheek. Then he crashed into me and grabbed my arm, pushing my pistol away from him. I stabbed him in the abdomen as my back hit the wall behind me. His free hand reached for my throat and succeeded in slamming my head against the wall.

  Everything went black. My legs turned to jelly, and I tried to slide down the wall, but he held me up. That was a bad decision. He should have let me pass out. I managed to pull my knife out of his belly and stabbed him in the side of the head. His eyes bulged and he started shaking. His hands loosened, and I was able to push him away from me. Placing the muzzle of my pistol against his forehead, I pulled the trigger.

  The vamp wasn’t the only one with the shakes. I was none too steady, and my vision was a little blurry, but I looked up the stairs, afraid his buddy might be waiting his turn to try and kill me. Mercifully, the stairs were empty.

  I had to move the body out of the way to pull the door open again. When I did, I saw a young woman standing there with a pistol and a frightened expression. She wasn’t any older than I was, and the top of her head barely reached my shoulder. I didn’t bother to ask her politics before diving at her legs and knocking her off her feet.

  After I pinned her down and shoved my pistol in her mouth, I growled, “Drop the gun or I’ll blow your head off.” She let go of her pistol.

  “When I get off you, I want you stay right where you are. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  I backed off and stood. “Now, roll over on your stomach.”

  Like a good girl, she complied.

  “Okay. I want you to get on your hands and knees, and then stand up with your hands in the air.” She did as I asked. “Are there any more of you in this building?”

  “No.” Her voice shook. “Are Dan and Wally...”

  “They’re dead, which is what you’re going to be if you make one wrong move.”

  She stiffened, and I heard what sounded like a ragged sob.

  “You’re going to walk ahead of me and take me on a safe route out of this building. Do you understand? If anyone attacks me, I’ll shoot you first. Now move.”

  She took me to the end of the hall, past what looked to be offices closed for the night, then down two flights of stairs. By my reckoning, we were at the back of the building, away from the street where the bodies lay in the aftermath of the bombings. We stopped in front of a door.

  “Where does that lead?” I asked.

  “To the alley.”

  “Open it. Slowly.” I pressed the muzzle against the back of her head. “I don’t plan to die tonight. As far as I’m concerned, you and your friends deserve your own dungeon in hell, so don’t think I won’t pull the trigger.”

  She pushed the door open and stepped out. I waited a moment, then looked around the corner. No one was there, so I grabbed her shoulder and pushed her out past the open door. I guided her around the corner of the building and retrieved my boots and purse, and my phone.

  “Wil?” I said when he answered. “The snipers are down. I have a captive on the side of the building. Can you send someone to take charge of her?”

  It only took a couple of minutes until SWAT troops surrounded me and took the girl away. Wil walked up and looked me up and down.

  “Are you all right? Is any of that yours?”

  I looked down at myself. The vamp had bled all over me. “You know, every time we go out, I have to buy a new dress.” Turning around, I put my hand up to the bump on the back of my head. “Does that look too bad?” It hurt like hell when I touched it.

  “No,” he said. “It’ll probably look worse in the morning.”

  With a sigh, I said, “Lovely.”

  “We need to talk,” he said, “but not tonight.”

  “About?”

  “Climbing walls like a spider, turning invisible, overwhelming armed insurgents, that sort of thing. Libby, the things you do aren’t normal.”

  “Yeah. Well, there are a lot of normal girls in the world. You don’t have to hang around with me if you don’t want to.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m kinda tired. I think I’m going to go sit in your car until you get through here.”

  I had no idea what in the hell I was doing playing hero. I looked around at all the emergency personnel who were getting paid to be there and then down at my ruined dress. And Wil wanted to talk about things I didn’t want to talk about. I wondered what it felt like to be normal. I wondered if I knew anyone who was normal that I could ask.

  Chapter 9

  I was gimping around my hotel room the next afternoon feeling sorry for myself when Deborah called. “Libby? Are you still in town?”

  “I told you I was going to stick around. What’s up?”

  “The board approved your proposal, and I have the contract drawn up. As soon as you can come by to sign it, you can start work on the computer system.”

  “They approved all the hardware?”

  “The entire thing.”

  “I can stop by this afternoon.”

  “That would be wonderful. I’ll be here.”

  “Whoooo hoooo!” I yelled after hanging up the phone. I stood to earn another half-million by hardening their administrative systems and databases. It was turning out to be a very good year.

  That stopped me for a moment. I was in line to earn as much as Deborah, and I didn’t even have a PhD or a fancy title. Not only that, but most of the money was legal. That had never happened before.

  After a scalding-hot shower, and feeling much better about myself and the world, I dressed, had some breakfast, and headed over to Deborah’s office.

  “Here’s the contract,” Deborah said, indicating I should sit on the couch. She handed me a stack of papers, then went over to her sideboard and came back with two flutes of champagne. “And this is to our ongoing relationship.” She handed me one of the flutes and clinked hers against mine.

  “I was just thinking today how much I’ve benefitted from the museum,” I said as I took a sip. Holding up the contract, I continued. “I’m glad you have such faith in my work.”

  “Oh, darling, you and your father were wonderful to work with. The entire board was impressed.” She sat down beside me, smiled, and leaned close. “Malcolm was impressed. You may end up getting some business from Tarden Corporation.”

  I read through the contract while sipping champagne, and Deborah kept refilling my glass. After we both signed the agreement and took our copies, she said, “Now, let’s go celebrate.”

  She drove us to a restaurant where we had a nice dinner and more wine. From there, we hit a place with desserts to die for, accompanied by espresso and liqueurs. The next stop was a dimly lit bar with a quartet playing soft jazz. Deborah ordered dark chocolate and a carafe of a fiery liqueur that complimented the chocolate to perfection.

  Deborah poured the booze into tiny glasses, handed me a piece of chocolate the size of my thumbnail, and said, “To a beautiful partnership.” She popped the chocolate in her mouth and followed it with the liqueur. I tried it, too. The taste and feel of the combination was indescribable.

  When she leaned over and kissed me, I didn’t think anything of it and I kissed her back. The next thing I knew, her hands were all over me, including some very sensitive places. I was drunk, and she made me feel good. I went with the flow.

  Her home turned out to be the thirty-room mansion I had imagined for Wil. A butler answered the door, and I got a quick glance at some of the house before Deborah dragged me upstairs to her bedroom.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that drunk, but the hangover reminded me o
f one reason I didn’t like to drink that much. Another reason was that when you’re drunk, you aren’t in control, and I’m a bit of a control freak.

  We got up disgustingly early, and Deborah was disgustingly cheerful for such an early hour. She dropped me off at my hotel on her way to work, and I went back to bed.

  That afternoon, I submitted the orders for the hardware I needed for the museum’s computer systems, then went back to bed again. I made a note to myself not to try and keep up with Deborah. The woman could probably drink a troll under the table.

  Wil called and woke me up about sunset. I told him I was busy, but he insisted he needed to see me. I finally agreed to meet him the following evening. Remembering his comment the previous night, I wasn’t in a hurry to answer his questions.

  By the following morning, my head cleared and my appetite returned. While I was eating breakfast, Jess called and told me the first of my equipment had arrived. Since a lot of what I ordered was manufactured in the Chicago area, I had expected quick delivery.

  I ambled over to the museum after breakfast, unpacked and tested the equipment, then set it aside. After logging into their network, I installed half a dozen software programs and began configuring them. By the time I stopped working that afternoon, the computer systems were already more secure than they had been that morning.

  As I picked up my coat and headed toward the door, Deborah came into the room.

  “Knocking off for the night?”

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to meet Wil.”

  “Tell him I said hello.” She pressed her body against mine, put one hand between my legs, and with her other hand pulled my head down to kiss me. “I wanted to thank you for the other night.”

  She let me go and stepped aside. “Have fun.”

  When I walked out into the hall, I found Jess standing there. She didn’t look happy. I turned back to see a smiling Deborah following me. She stepped between us, put her arm around Jess’s shoulders, and they walked away.