Chameleon

Dee had already sent a message to Tom Vastrick, their President, who was holidaying in Vermont, asking for his opinion, but they both expected him to say; “Do what you think is right. You people are there, I’m not.”

The two sat together in Dee’s office and discussed the main problem faced by Close Protection Operatives or Bodyguards in the UK, which is that they have only passive deterrents at their disposal. These are items such as body armour, and bullet resistant glass and bodywork on cars. The only other protection they can offer is to keep themselves between the client and assailant; not an attractive proposition if the assailant is armed with a sniper’s rifle and the bodyguard is armed with nothing more potent than pepper spray.

In their favour was the fact that both Dee and Geordie had attended special courses at Quantico, taught by FBI trainers. Whilst they had not been in the same classes, they were in the USA at the same time, they had both attended similar lectures, and both had completed the same units over a six-month period.

They had been taught a number of secret service techniques, including those used to protect the President of the United States. They had firearms training, and they spent two weeks on counter terrorist training. They spent an enjoyable and adrenaline filled week on defensive driving and pursuit driving. Finally, they had been taught the latest (and dirtiest) moves in hand-to-hand combat.

But despite all of their undoubted skills, Dee now had three scars from bullet wounds, and Geordie had one scar from a knife blade in his leg and a further scar in his back from a wickedly sharp Shuriken throwing star.

In many ways it was inevitable that those who were routinely required to face that kind of danger would illegally carry deterrent sprays, batons, knives and even tasers; anything to try to slow down a madman with an agenda.

Dee made a decision. “Geordie, I think we have to help this lady. She’s probably overstating the risk, but between us we could carry out a detailed risk assessment and cover the obvious danger areas.”

“I’ll go along with that, Dee. With any luck it’ll all pass without incident,” he said, his Geordie brogue coming to the fore.

Of course, neither Geordie nor Dee could possibly have known about the Chameleon’s involvement, but it would have made no difference if they had; their task was to make it as difficult as possible for any assassin, no matter how skilled, to get to Victoria Hokobu.

Chapter 4

Celebrato Offices, Spital Square, London, Monday Noon.

The Celebrato Greeting Cards headquarters were contained within a single floor of the grey framed office building on Spital Square. The outside walls consisted of floor to ceiling windows which had a green hue when viewed from the street.

The offices were always busy, but the main business was conducted from a factory unit in Warrington, in the North West of England, halfway between Manchester and Liverpool. The unit was strategically placed with easy access to the M62 and the M6, but the best part of the deal was that the former Labour Government’s Business Minister had awarded Celebrato a grant which meant the rent and rates were subsidised for ten years, and that the printing and distribution plant was provided virtually free of charge.

By ensuring the plant was efficiently organised, Celebrato cards could be produced and distributed by just thirty operatives working a three-shift rota.

Celebrato had been bought for peanuts by its current Managing Director, the Chameleon, from the founder’s grandson, who had run the greeting card company into the ground, despite its profitable history of producing high quality cards which spa

Business was booming. Costs and quality had been reduced but prices had remained stable. All of the major supermarket chains retailed the standard Celebrato cards, as did a major national newsagent chain. The bespoke cards, ordered online, were created in Warrington by a few minimum wage software jockeys, so that mums, dads and gra

As a result the Chameleon’s initial investment had rocketed in value. The MD guessed that if Celebrato’s customers knew that the takeover of Capitol Cards had been funded by the Chameleon’s assassination of a troublesome Iranian, they would not be impressed.

***

The Chameleon’s quick search of the Internet revealed the venue and timetable for the UN Conference Ending Slavery, Ending Poverty. It was to be held in the magnificent Westminster Hall, which had hosted the Pope during his state visit to the UK in September 2010. The Conference would run from Wednesday to Friday, with sessions from nine in the morning to five in the afternoon each day. The Chameleon noted that there were also numerous receptions, where attendees could wring their hands and concern themselves with the problems of the poor as they quaffed champagne and ate smoked salmon.

The section of the website dealing with the history of the medieval hall was interesting, however. Commenced in 1097 under William II, the son of William the Conqueror, it was completed two years later. It is said that the King had conceived the project to impress his new subjects with his power and the majesty of his authority. The hall must have impressed the twelfth century serfs, because it impressed a cynical assassin in the twenty first century.

When it was finished, the Hall was by far the largest hall in England at that time, and probably in Europe. Measuring seventy three metres by twenty, it boasted a floor area covering one thousand five hundred and seventy four square metres, with a length of almost four cricket pitches end-to-end. Remarkably, for the time, it needed no intermediate columns to support the beautifully ornate arched roof timbers. With stained glass windows all around, the largest and most impressive was the South Window, which is relatively new, the old window having been destroyed during the Blitz. The big arched window is inlaid with the coats of arms and monograms of famous parliamentarians, and lists the ones who gave their lives in two World Wars.

This type of large open and unrestricted floor area was usually good news for assassins, but there is such a thing as being too open. The Chameleon noted from photographs that when the hall was laid out for conferences the steps that take up the South End of the hall are used for the presentations. The stone steps effectively form a raised platform on three levels, which is ideal for allowing the speakers to be seen from the floor of the hall. But because the hall provided very little cover, and was not ideal for snipers, the Chameleon would only strike during the conference if all else failed.

The first of three encrypted messages arrived at the Chameleon’s inbox, [email protected] /* */, and the recipient immediately began to make notes and plan the next seventy hours.

The conference program noted that the troublesome Victoria Hokobu was due to speak from the raised podium at ten o’clock on Thursday morning, and the client’s view was that if she was still speaking fifteen minutes later it would be too late; the damage would have been done. The Chameleon doodled on a lined pad while thinking; the words read:

‘Violets are blue,

Roses are red

Mrs. Hokobu

Will soon be dead’

Catchy, but probably not one of our bestsellers, the Chameleon thought.

Chapter 5

Vastrick Security, No 1 Poultry, London, Monday Noon.