David Morrell - The Covenant Of The Flame

The man was of medium height and weight, with brown hair, hazel eyes that tended to assume the color of the clothes he wore, and unremarkable features, so average that no one ever remembered him. Over many years, he'd trained himself to be a chameleon, and yesterday afternoon, he'd followed Tess to LaGuardia Airport.

When he reached the second floor, he squinted higher toward the continuing stairs, then right and left, noticing open-doored classrooms and two drinking fountains that seemed unnaturally low until he recalled that they weren't designed for adults. Shrugging, deferring to the man with the oversized briefcase, he said, 'Which room do you like?'

'The one on the left above the parking lot.'

'As you wish.'

'But not until…' The man with the briefcase pointed upward toward the final floor.

'Do you really think it's necessary? The dust on the stairs hasn't been disturbed.'

'I was trained to be thorough. Your expertise is surveillance, but mine is…'

The first man nodded. 'And you do it superbly.'

'I accept the compliment.' The man's eyes glinted.

'I'll check the upper floor while the others inspect the rooms on this floor. In the meantime, since we're under pressure, can you…?'

'Yes, I'll set up my equipment.'

Five minutes later, after having inspected the musty upper floor where he found no one, the first man descended to the middle floor and the room on the left above the parking lot. He and his associates had been very careful in selecting this meeting place. It was highly unlikely that their enemy had managed to trace them here. Mostly – he suspected – the man with the briefcase was concerned that despite the abandoned school's locked doors and barricaded windows, a drug addict or else one of the city's innumerable homeless might have discovered a way to gain access and find sanctuary here. Even a drug addict might make sense of their conversation and become an informant.

At the same time, the chameleon reminded himself that the enemy, over many years, had demonstrated remarkable cleverness, extreme survival characteristics, ruthless determination, including the ability to counterattack. No matter how carefully this abandoned school had been chosen, the fact was that the rendezvous site had been used four times already. A pattern had been established, and whenever a pattern occurred, that pattern could be discovered. The man with the briefcase was right. There was no harm in being cautious.

The chameleon noticed two things when he entered the classroom. First, the sixth man, the electronic-security specialist, had opened his oversized briefcase, plugged a monitor into a battery, and was using a metal wand to scan the blackboard, the ceiling, the walls, the floor, and the furniture. Second, the other men – normally so serious and dignified – were seated in cramped positions in miniature table-topped chairs designed for ten-year-olds. The absurd situation reminded the chameleon of scenes from Gulliver's Travels and Alice in Wonderland .

'It's clean,' the sixth man said, replacing his equipment in the briefcase, shutting it, and locking it.

'Then we'll begin.' Although the chameleon had been deferential until now, he assumed the place of authority, sitting at the teacher's desk.

As one, each member of the group reached into his suitcoat pocket, removed a ring, and placed it on the middle finger of his left hand. Each ring was identical, handsome, distinctive, a twenty-four karat band on top of which a large gleaming ruby was embossed with the golden insignia of an intersecting cross and sword.

'May the Lord be with you,' the chameleon said.

'And with your spirit,' the five men replied.

' Deo gratias ,' all six of them said together, completing the ritual.

The chameleon scanned his fellow hunters. 'To begin, I must make a confession.'

The group narrowed their eyes, straightening as best they could in the confinement of their diminutive chairs.

'You.' The chameleon nodded toward the sixth man, the electronic-security specialist, who unlike the others was somewhat overweight. 'Earlier we exchanged compliments about our respective skills. But I'm forced to admit that I've made a mistake in terms of my skills, or at least my team has made a mistake, and I always take responsibility for the men I've trained.'

'What sort of mistake?' The second man tilted his glasses, frowning over them.

'One of the enemy tried to intercept photographs that the woman took in our target's apartment.'

The fourth man hunched his broad shoulders. 'Perhaps the attempt was an unrelated matter. We've been distracted by false alarms before. How can you be positive that this person is one of the enemy?'

'He has gray eyes,' the chameleon said.

'Ah.' The third man pursed his thin lips. 'In that case…'

'Indeed.' The fifth man's gaunt cheeks throbbed.

'I entered the photo shop and pretended to be a customer. I stood as close to him as I am now to you,' the chameleon said. 'I couldn't fail to recognize the characteristics. He might as well have been the target's brother.'

'Perhaps he was,' the broad-shouldered fourth man said. 'I still don't understand. What was your mistake?'

'My responsibility was to follow the woman. My team's responsibility was to pursue and capture the man .' The chameleon shook his head in distress. They failed.'

' What ?' The sixth man, the electronic-security specialist, glared. 'They saw him leave the shop and…!'

'He was brilliant. From reports I was given, he seemed to sense immediately that he was being stalked. He ran. My team gave chase. He darted down alleys. He rushed across streets, veering through traffic. Still he was chased. He entered a restaurant.'

'And?'

The chameleon raised his hands. 'He vanished.'

'How?'

'If my team had been able to determine that, they certainly would have continued to chase him. I repeat, I accept responsibility for their failure.'

'But that does no good,' the sixth man continued. 'Accept as much blame as you want. The ultimate fact is, the enemy was within your team's grasp, but they didn't succeed.'

'Yes.' The chameleon lowered his head. 'That's the ultimate fact.'

'He must have had an escape route planned.' The third man pursed his lips again.

'No doubt,' the solidly built fourth man said. They're like ferrets. They can dodge and squirm and find holes where you'd never expect. How else could they have eluded us for so long?'

'That's not the point,' the overweight sixth man objected. Their survival skills are well known. But we're supposed to be better.'

'And we are.' The second man adjusted his glasses. 'Because virtue is on our side. But sometimes it appears that providence tests our determination.'

'I don't accept rationalizations. If what you're telling me is that the Lord helps those who help themselves, then we're obviously not trying hard enough!' The sixth man glowered toward the chameleon. 'Or in this case, you and your team aren't trying hard enough. Certainly I've done my part. I installed a tap on the woman's phone and on the policeman's phone within an hour of your instructions. I also arranged for our people in Washington to be able to monitor calls made from car phones. Every important government executive has one these days, although I don't understand why they use them, given the security risk.'

'What more do you want me to say? I can't change the past. However, I can resolve to do better in the future.'

'But this isn't the first time you've made mistakes!' the sixth man added. 'When you managed to find our target, you should have arranged immediately for his abduction and interrogation!'