Chameleon - A City of London Thriller (37 page)

“
Gillian, you
have no idea how long I have waited for this day. We have always
wanted children of our own but the fact that even one of us could
produce a beautiful young woman like you makes me quite emotional.
Come in and meet your father.”

The two women
stepped into a hallway that spoke more of New England austerity
than grandeur. Gil was surprised by its homeliness. The staircase
was painted white, as was much of the clapboard on the walls. A
dado rail ran around the plastered blue-painted walls, above the
clapboard. With the portraits and other artwork, one could have
imagined being in Cape Cod, or at least on the set of Murder She
Wrote.

Hearing voices
in the hallway, Senator Miles Denton III came out of his study to
join the two women.

“
Gillian, I
couldn’t believe it when you wrote to tell me I had a daughter.
Since that day - what is it, three years ago? - I determined that I
would do everything I could to persuade you to visit with us. And
here you are.”

The staid
Senator from Virginia hugged the daughter he had never met and
looked as though he may never let go. The three of them retired to
a comfortable and airy sitting room, where the married couple sat
holding hands as they talked.

“
Senator,
Elizabeth, I have dreamed about this meeting but never did I see it
like this. At best I had hoped for a frosty politeness from you,
Elizabeth, and perhaps a restrained wariness from you, Senator.”
Gil wanted to let them know that their welcome was unexpected and
much appreciated.

“”
Gillian, we
are all grown-ups here. Miles probably got up to all sorts of
things before we met and, quite frankly, I daren’t ask what they
were. But he speaks about your mother with such tenderness that I
can’t help but feel that their relationship wasn’t anything but
right. After all, look what it brought us.”

Miles Denton
squeezed his wife’s hand as she spoke, then added, “Look, I’ve kept
a window open until three this afternoon, when I really must
conference call with my fellow senator for Virginia, by the name of
Rich. He is a democrat, but a nice democrat.”

He smiled, and
Gil’s heart skipped. “That’s my dad,” she thought.

Over the next
four hours they had lunch, talked about Gillian’s mother and her
upbringing in Hampshire, and walked in the garden, albeit briefly
as it was still cold outside.

Elizabeth was
keen to hear about Uncle Nick, who seemed to have been a surrogate
father, whilst the Senator showed a good deal of interest in her
career. He was aware of Celebrato Greeting Cards and her role in
transforming the company, but he was most keenly interested in her
role with MI5, much of which was covered by the official secrets
act.

For the last
hour Elizabeth left father and daughter alone to bond, and they
talked in details about Gillian’s skills and training. Gil even
confided in him about her period in private enterprise with Doug
McKeown, concluding with the death of the Hokobus and her escape
from the UK after an attempt on her life. She related the story in
a way that placed her in the best possible light, but even this
revised version of recent history clearly disturbed her
father.

“
I wanted you
to know the whole unvarnished truth,” she explained, looking him in
the eye. “If you don’t want to continue with any form of
relationship with me, I’ll understand. It will still have been an
honour to meet you.”

There was a
long period of silence, and Gil wondered whether she had overplayed
her hand.

“
Gillian, we
– governments, that is – call on people to do things we would not
do ourselves. We ask our soldiers to make sacrifices we would not
make to keep our society safe. From time to time we may
inadvertently hurt the good guys, but all of the time we hurt the
people we send to do our dirty work.

For decades we
have trained people in the deadly arts, we have supported truly
wicked regimes and we have lived to regret it. I fear that the
government who trained you and the society that wanted you to clean
up their mess without wanting to hear about it, are equally
responsible for the death of a couple like the Hokobus. We don’t
know any other way.”

He paused,
stood up and crossed the floor to sit beside Gil. “Whilst I am not
without influence, I’m not sure how much I can protect you from the
rigours of international law. I can guarantee you that you will be
safe and treated fairly. I hope that you understand
that.”

Gillian
nodded, and the two hugged again.

***

Over a quarter
of a mile away, in the wooded hills surrounding the estate, Pete
and Dee blew into their hands and tried to keep warm. The equipment
was set up, and had been for hours, targeted on the front door of
the house that currently accommodated Gillian Davis, The
Chameleon.

They had
watched a lithe young woman with short dark hair enter the house
earlier, but had been unsure of their target until she turned
around briefly as the door closed behind her. There had been no
time to get a shot off. Now, however, if she exited through the
front door she would be in their sights.

Pete looked
through the spotting scope; Dee was already lined up on the front
door.

“
I hope she
comes out soon. We’re losing the light.”

“
We have
night vision and infra red, I won’t miss anything,” Dee confirmed
for the third time. Both of them were tired and irritable, and
cold, so very cold.

***

“
Holland and
Mattingley will show you to the lodge in the rear. You can stay
there as long as you like. Elizabeth wants you to join us for
dinner, and then the two of you can spend the next few days
together, getting to know each other while I go off to Washington
and round up some help for you.”

The Senator
hugged her as he opened the front door for her. “Don’t you worry,
I’m sure I can fix things. That’s what dads are for, after
all.”

Gillian walked
out onto the stoop and into the winter sunshine. She thought she
saw the flash of a lens or mirror in the distance, but decided that
she was probably mistaken. Relieved and contented by her reception,
she stepped down towards the two bodyguards who would accompany her
to the lodge.

***

“
Door is
opening,” Pete said as he looked through the spotting scope.
“You’ll need around three degrees of traverse and two degrees of
elevation to keep her in your sights for around ten
seconds.”

The tripod was
firmly affixed, giving Dee the best possible chance for a steady
shot. As Dee picked up the movement at the door and focussed the
cross hairs, Pete whispered, “It’s her. It’s up to you
now.”

Gillian Davis
stepped into view, and Dee Hammond focussed until the Chameleon’s
torso filled the viewfinder. Satisfied that this was their target,
she fired off three quick shots.

Chapter
5
4

State Route
837, Lynchburg, Virginia, USA, Monday 3:15pm.

Dee and Pete
gathered the equipment and stowed it into two elongated cases which
had been custom made for the purpose. Pete slung a lap top bag over
his shoulder and Dee slipped the scoping sight in her inside Jacket
pocket.

Carrying the
equipment, they worked their way up the lightly forested hillside
and when they reached the peak they descended as quickly as they
could down the other side and back to their hire car. The Chrysler
300 was parked in a lay-by, or refuge, furnished with picnic
tables, litter bins and a basic toilet block.

They had just
reached the car, opening the trunk by remote control, when two cars
came roaring towards them, lights flashing, sirens blaring. They
were approaching from either direction on State Road 837. By now
the wooded hill was between them and the Denton Estate, which was
approached by a secondary road off SR837, known locally as Top
Ridge Road.

Dee and Pete
acted normally, as if they had no idea what the police might want.
They also hoped that the cars would keep on going. They didn’t.
Just as they were placing the equipment in the boot of the car and
closing the lid, a police cruiser pulled up behind their vehicle,
soon followed by another marked car pulling up in front. They were
hemmed in.

The two
operatives glanced at each another and tried to look puzzled. In an
instant there was a lot of activity and shouting, as state troopers
with hats not dissimilar to those worn by Mounties disembarked from
the vehicles and wielded their handguns.

“
Stand
against the car, facing in, hands flat on the roof, legs apart.”
The instructions were yelled and forceful. The two British
operatives did as they were told, and two troopers dressed in blue
grey shirts, dark grey tie and epaulettes moved towards them. The
bright gold woven badges on their shoulders bore the Great Seal of
the State of Virginia in a circle at the top and the words
‘Virginia State Police’ below.

Dee and Pete
said nothing. Their training had drummed into them the dictum, ‘if
apprehended give them nothing, not even an accent, or they may
start to reach premature conclusions about your guilt or
innocence’. The two were frisked quickly and
efficiently.

“
OK. Sir.
Hand me the keys slowly,” the female trooper requested. She was a
good head shorter than Pete. She was a good looking African
American and she had a gun aimed right at him. Pete held out the
keys, letting them dangle from his thumb and forefinger.

Leaving her
colleague to cover the suspects, the female officer holstered her
gun and pressed a button on the key fob. The Chrysler 300 trunk lid
opened to reveal two cases, a laptop bag and spotting
scope.

The female
trooper opened the cases very carefully and took a deep breath
in.

***

In the case in
front of her were two tripods, each with a bracket designed to hold
something circular in section. There was also a selection of blue
cables and an eyepiece.

In the second
case was a long lens. Over a metre long, it had a five inch lens at
the front but no camera mount or lens at the back. The trooper
looked puzzled and then worried.

The cause of
her concern was a silver plate on the inside of the case, which
shone brightly against the red velvet interior of the case. It
read: ‘Asset Number FBI/Q/S9/123109, Property of the
FBI.’

“
Ethan, you
need to see this,” the trooper said to her companion. The man
stepped back slowly, keeping his eyes on the two suspects. Stealing
a glance at the case, he issued an expletive.

“
Hey, are you
two FBI? Do you have any ID?”

Dee responded
first in what she hoped sounded like a mid Atlantic
accent.

“
You need to
call our contact at the FBI now, before this gets out of hand. My
BlackBerry is in my pocket.”

“
OK, honey,”
the female trooper said calmly. “Just stay where you are while we
sort this out.”

She took the
BlackBerry from Dee’s jacket and asked her the number. Dee told her
to scroll down to “Steve Post FBI” on the most recent calls list
and press the green button. The trooper did as she was asked, and
the phone rang out in one long tone at the other end. The trooper
pressed the loudspeaker button and Pete and Dee heard the operator
pick up.

“
FBI Field
Office, Charlotte speaking. How may I direct your call?”

The trooper
looked at Dee, who spoke loudly. “Special Agent Steve Post,
please,” she answered.

“
Who shall I
say is calling?”

“
This is Dee
Hammond and I’m with Virginia State Trooper.....”

“
Marcia De
Vere.” The trooper completed the sentence. A few seconds later
Steve Post came on the line.

“
Is that Dee
or Marcia?” he asked.

“
Both of us,”
Dee replied.

“
OK. What’s
going on, Marcia? You’ve extracted me from an important Homeland
Security meeting.”

“
Sir, we had
it reported that a couple of folks were spotted in the woods
overlooking a Senator’s house. The citizen was concerned about
their intentions.”

“
OK. Dee,
what were your intentions?” he asked.

“
We were bird
watching, Special Agent Post. We have some magnificent shots of a
Boboling, an American Goldfinch and a Ruby Throated Humming
Bird.”

Pete had to
stifle a laugh, and the two troopers looked terribly
confused.

“
OK, Dee, I
trust you have evidence of your innocent intentions?” Steve
queried, the smile audible in his voice.

“
Yep. We have
the shots on the laptop.”

“
OK. Trooper
De Vere, I suggest that you confirm that this is true and then let
my people go. They’re very busy.”

“
Sir, I have
to call this in.”

“
Of course
you do. You need to call in and explain that you apprehended two
innocent citizens bird watching, that you breached their
constitutional rights and that you found incriminating pictures of
Virginia’s wild birds. Oh, and tell them they can confirm all of
this by ringing my number.”