A Thousand Kisses Deep (2 page)

When they reached the cliffs Pierce quickly lashed Jacy to Sly's body, saying, "If Sully set that detonator those explosives should go off any minute. Buy us some time."

Sly grabbed hold of the rope he'd pinned into the rock earlier. "I'll see you at the bottom. If I get hung up, don't wait for me. Haul your asses out of here." He pinned Pierce with his unforgiving steel-blue eyes. "Make sure Bjorn and Ash make it back."

Washington
,
D.C.
—
six days later

"Casualties are always hard to swallow, McEwen. Especially if the mission is written up as a failure. But this one won't be. You were able to verify that the compound exists even if you weren't able to confirm that the Chameleon was there."

Merrick
's voice was as cut-and-dried as his manners. Sly hadn't expected different. From the moment he'd met his commander, he'd suspected Adolf Merrick had survived his own hell once upon a time.

He was one chilly bastard, all right. Even his winter-gray eyes and silver hair fit
Merrick
's code name of
Icis.

Ignoring the guest chair that his commander gestured to, Sly remained standing. At six foot three, his legs widespread, his back steel-pipe straight, he appeared as constant and unforgiving as
Mississippi
mud.

"I read your report, cross-referenced it with the others. Too bad about Paxton. He was a good operative. A helluva thing to have happen weeks before he would have been transferred out of field duty."

"A helluva thing." Sly was no longer able to keep the emotion out of his voice. "Sully's dead. Jacy is still in the hospital fighting for his life. That sure is one helluva thing, all right."

Merrick
said nothing.

"Was the mission a bogus manhunt?" Sly asked. "Was it a suicide mission? Rumor has it that the Chameleon took out one of our agents in
Istanbul
while we were being shot to shit in the middle of the
Aegean Sea
."

"It's true that an Onyxx agent was assassinated in
Turkey
. We can't prove it was sanctioned by the Chameleon, however. To answer your question, this was no bogus manhunt. We had solid information that led us to Castle Rock. And as far as being a suicide mission, that's ludicrous. Here at Onyxx we don't dispose of our agents once they've maxed out their field service, McEwen. We find them a new home within the Agency according to their expertise."

A field operative's tour lasted seven years, and once the tour was up, the agent was reassigned. Although it was rare for agents to return to civilian life, they had a choice to do so. Of the rat fighters, less than one percent ever left. Not ordinary men, the rats had no reason to leave the nest since the Agency was the closest thing to a real family any of them had ever had.

Sly studied
Merrick
's face for the slightest sign that he was lying. A subtle twitch. A slight tightening in his jaw. But there was nothing. His boss was as chilly as always, his mouth concealed behind a full gray mustache, and his eyes obscured by a pair of gray-tinted glasses.

"The mission smells sour,
Merrick
. Like we were set up."

"There's nothing in your report to support that. Are you working on a hunch, McEwen? Yours, or Odell's? Or did the breed have another vision?"

Sly ignored the sarcasm. He wasn't going to apologize because
Merrick
was a facts-and-data military man, and he was a street survivor who played his gut and had a second pair of eyes in the back of his head.

"All I can tell you is that I received information pinpointing Castle Rock as one of the Chameleon's compounds. The tip needed to be checked out."

"First it was a solid piece of information, and now you're calling it a tip. Which was it?"

"In my report I'll be referring to it as a tip."

The bureaucratic bullshit games the Agency played made Sly sick. "Because the mission was doomed from the beginning, and you knew it."

"No!"

"Then bring your informant forward so he can be questioned."

"That's not how we do things here and you know it. At the moment I'm satisfied with what we have. Proof that Castle Rock is, or was, a compound for the Chameleon's band of criminals. That explosion you authorized blew one helluva hole in that monastery, and our mop crew isn't having much success finding anything we can use to sanction another mission. But we aren't giving up."

"Ever consider that your informant is working for the Chameleon? That he sold you out?"

"I've considered it. I'll be investigating the possibility, but I don't believe for one minute that's the case."

"What about a mole inside the Agency leaking information to the outside?"

"If you have proof of that you neglected to put it in your report."

Sly had purposely left out certain details so he could witness
Merrick
's reaction to his news. But none of it hinted that Onyxx was harboring a mole. "I have no proof that someone inside is working for the opposition. All I've got is one dead friend, and another one who may never walk again. That is if he lives at all."

"Casualties come with the job. And these two men are not your friends, they are your comrades. Yes, I know that working so closely together forms certain bonds, but you knew when you came aboard that the odds were stacked against all of you surviving. As cold as that sounds, it's fact. Your team has fared better than most. Consider yourself one of the lucky ones, McEwen, and leave it at that."

Sly watched
Merrick
closely when he said, "Holic Reznik was there."

"What?"

"I said Reznik was at Castle Rock."

"Why wasn't that in your report? Any of the reports?"

"I was the only one who saw him. I thought I'd save it for a private conversation."

"We have no information connecting him to the Chameleon."

"Exactly."

"He's an independent professional assassin."

"Right again."

"Why would he be there?"

"The Chameleon has been steadily gaining momentum. That doesn't happen without gaining enemies. Maybe he needs to thin some of them out," Sly offered.

"That's a good point."

The price on Holic Reznik's head was as high as the price on the Chameleon's. The only difference between the two men was that Reznik's identity had been confirmed, and the Chameleon's identity was still anyone's guess.

A man with no face, is how the spy world described the Chameleon. In Jacy's words, a
wanagi.

Merrick
leaned back in his chair and stroked his silver mustache. A moment later, he removed his tinted glasses, allowing Sly to see that his commander's eyes were bloodshot.

Either
Merrick
was drinking again, or he hadn't slept in several days. Maybe both.

"You're absolutely sure it was Reznik?"

"We met in
Austria
. He was the one who shot Bjorn Odell in the back a few years ago." Sly dismissed Reznik for the time being. "This informant … I'd like to talk to him."

"That's not possible. If there's nothing else to report, this portion of our meeting is over."
Merrick
closed the file, its significance clear. "Again, I express my regret on the loss of a good agent. Sully will be hard to replace. Onyxx could have used him behind the scenes. Let's hope Jacy will be able to overcome his injuries. Now then, what about your reassignment? Have you given my offer consideration? The job as my assistant is perfect for you. Age-wise you couldn't do better."

"Age-wise?"

"You're thirty-four. One of the oldest field operatives we have."

Sly studied his commander. His silver hair and beard put Adolf Merrick somewhere in his fifties. "And when do
you
retire …
Icis?
When does Onyxx consider the old legend, age-wise, over the hill?"

"I've been asked to stay on for another term. But then I'm a military man with credentials. You are an ex-con who didn't finish high school. Sorry to be so blunt, but facts are facts, McEwen. So, what will it be?"

Sly hadn't needed days to consider
Merrick
's offer. He'd known what his answer would be the minute he'd heard the words. "I've decided to retire."

Merrick
never blinked. He leaned back in his chair and said, "If you were anyone else, I'd try to change your mind. But I won't waste my breath. Over the years I've never known you to straddle the fence on one damn thing. But it won't be easy, returning to civilian life. After twelve years in prison, and seven spent here at Onyxx, what do you know about living free?"

Not a damn thing, Sly thought. Not one damn thing. But then he hadn't known a damn thing about being an Onyxx agent seven years ago, either.

"You're aware of our policy? Two hundred thousand will be deposited into your bank account within forty-eight hours. And of course, if trouble should come looking for you anytime in the future—"

"Onyxx doesn't want to know about it."

"That's the way it has to be, Sly, for security reasons."

Even though they hadn't always seen eye to eye, when
Merrick
stood and held out his hand, Sly shook it. Surprised when his commander slipped a card into his palm, he asked, "What's this?"

"My private number. Memorize it, then burn the card. In case you need to talk. Good luck, McEwen."

When the door closed, Adolf Merrick sat down and opened his top drawer. He located a bottle of pills next to his laptop computer, took both out and placed them on his desk.

He made a call on his private phone, left a one-word message, then opened the bottle of pills and shook out two white disks onto the desk. In his bottom drawer he kept a bottle of Glen Moray and he pulled it out. Uncorking it, he sent the pills to the back of his throat, then chased them down with a healthy swig of whiskey.

The day progressed as usual. Four hours later, after
Merrick
had taken two more pills and finished the bottle of Glen Moray, and while resting his head against the leather chair, his private phone rang. Before the second ring, the phone was pressed to his ear.

"Your information led my agents into a trap. What kind of game are you playing?"

"A serious game. I told you it was one of the Chameleon's compounds. A compound is usually full of armed men."

"There was no sign of the Chameleon."

"Did I say he would be there?"

"I don't tolerate half truths,"
Merrick
warned.

"I think you'll tolerate whatever will get you what you want. And what you want is the Chameleon. Am I right?"

"I don't deny that he's become important to Onyxx."

"We both know why he's important … to you."

Merrick
felt a chill along his spine. If his informant wasn't bluffing, then somehow there had been a breach in security at Onyxx. His own file was secure in the archives.

"The information I gave you was hardly twenty-four hours old when you sent your rat fighters racing off to
Greece
. Maybe if you hadn't been in such a hurry, you would have been more successful. Maybe you should learn better how to play the game."

"And maybe you should be concerned with what I do to informants who send me on wild-goose chases,"
Merrick
snapped, wishing he hadn't revealed his frustration.