Chameleon - A City of London Thriller (42 page)

When I left
them they were in temporary distress but not in any danger. I was
stunned when I learned that they had been killed. By then Doug
McKeown was uncontactable and I felt very vulnerable as I had lost
a contact lens which may have given the authorities reason to
believe that I was a murderer. I decided to leave the country as
soon as possible and clear my name. My reason for leaving the
country, and for making my statement in protective custody in the
USA, is simply that my life may be in danger. In our former
business termination often means more than simply being
fired.

Imagine then
my surprise when the next day I received a coded call from
MI5
asking me to attend
a secretive meeting with a junior operative. I met him in the
abandoned
Strand
Tube Station, which had been used for anti terrorist training
in the past.

He told me
that his employers at
MI5
did not know who the Chameleon was but that they
were convinced it was Doug McKeown and that he had overstepped the
mark killing the Israeli
Foreign
Minister and the Hokobus. They applied pressure
on me to kill my old mentor and provide proof of death.

I had no
alternative. I was frightened for my own life but in the end my
efforts were not necessary. I tracked Doug down to a ‘lock up unit’
we had used in the past and I wanted to confront him. I must stress
that I was unarmed and that I was in extreme danger because, his
affection for me apart, Doug was a trained killer. I entered the
lock up through an open door in the rear, only to discover mayhem
inside. There had been an explosion and not much of my old mentor
remained. I carefully gathered up his remains and set fire to the
workshop.

I passed the
gathered remains to my former employers at MI5, who confirmed the
remains belonged to Doug by DNA testing. My own view is that
someone, possibly the Israeli’s, found out who the Chameleon really
was and terminated him.

Later I was
asked to attend another meeting with the junior operative, a
Mr
Tim
McKinnon
, for debriefing. I was wary
because of the fact that I was the only outsider who could now
identify Doug McKeown as the killer of the Hokobus, and the only
one who heard Mr
Barry
Mitchinson
of
MI5
give the go ahead.

I attended
the meeting and as I had anticipated
Tim
produced a gun. Once again I was
unarmed.
Tim
shot
me three times in the torso and l fell into a lift shaft. Luckily I
was wearing a ceramic body cover under my Kevlar body protector and
I was able to break my fall by grabbing onto a rope. Tim shot a
couple of rounds down the dark shaft for good measure and left me
for dead. I managed to escape but not before I heard Tim screaming.
I later learned that a man had been electrocuted by the third rail
in the rarely used tunnel and knew it must be Tim.

Given that I
was supposed to be dead, and soon would be if I stayed around, I
ran for safety and planned to clear my name whilst remaining in a
safe haven.

By the issue
of this statement I freely acknowledge my guilt as to my
participation in the temporary abduction of the Hokobus but stress
that, as far as I knew, Doug McKeown was going to hold the couple
for three days until the conference was over and then he was to
deposit them at their embassy in London.

Obviously I
regret my actions. I am deeply saddened by the death of a couple
who I now know were more honest and well intentioned than the
governments who ordered their demise. I would happily return to the
UK to be tried for the lesser offence of assisting in an abduction
but I am afraid that I would not live to defend myself as my
defence would open
MI5
to a scrutiny that they would not find acceptable.

Let me say
that I trust the UK Government implicitly and that I trust the head
of
MI5
implicitly
but I believe that rogue elements within
MI5
, namely Mr
Barry
Mitchinson
and his Director, are operating outside of their remit and
the law. I have now been told that the Director took his own life
on hearing that I had escaped his jurisdiction.

Finally,
attached to this affidavit are details of illicit bank accounts
held in safe havens where blood money is concealed and used to pay
assassins like the Chameleon, and to benefit the rogue agents named
above.

I therefore
formally request the protection of the United States of America,
whose passport I hold, and in due course I will issue a
prayer of pleading
to
request that any extradition procedures be rebuffed.

Signed:
_________________________________Gillian Davis (Miles).

Date:
_________________________

Witnesses
Ordinary: 1: _______________________Senator Denton Miles
III

Witnesses
Ordinary 2: ________________________James Lorimer, USA,
DoJ

Notary:
________________________________________

Chapter
6
2

Courtyard
Marriott Hotel, Lynchburg, Virginia,

Thursday
9:50pm.

Everyone had
finished reading the statement and had dismissed it as the fiction
it clearly was, whilst all secretly harbouring the feeling that if
they had been unaware of the reality, this fiction might just sway
them. Steve Post was the first to summarise the
situation.

“
People, this
is the work of a warped genius. She has given up a potential
murderer, cast herself as a victim and has implicated the UK in the
murder of foreign nationals around the globe. As I said earlier,
even the FBI have benefitted from her skills. She has an entry on
the CJIS database and, whilst it is scant on detail, it seems to
involve Cuba, and that is something our Government won’t want
anyone to know.

By writing
what, on the surface, is an admission of guilt for kidnapping, she
is threatening our two governments with embarrassment and
humiliation. Given that she has such powerful allies I suspect that
the FBI and CIA will pressure MI5 to let her go. First, because she
knows too much, and second, because any future President who looked
favourably on them would be an important ally for the secret
services.”

Their main
courses arrived and although no-one was hungry any longer they ate
anyway. There was simply nothing more to say.

***

Just as the
disenchanted group in Virginia were beginning their meal, Barry
Mitchinson’s laptop beeped. An incoming email had been received.
The MI5 man opened the attachment headed Affidavit and read the
un-redacted version of the documents. His mouth gaped open as he
discovered that he was named as a rogue agent who had authorised
the killing of the Hokobus and who had also ordered the killing of
Gillian Davis.

Of course,
this was all true, but no-one should have known anything about any
of it. Bloody hell, this was supposed to be a secret service, a
secret service that couldn’t keep a bloody secret!

The phone
rang. Maureen Lassiter was on the other line. She was crying. Her
sobs were so frequent that he could hardly understand a word she
was saying.

“
Look at the
attachment,” she sobbed, before becoming incoherent
again.

Barry flicked
over to the last page and read down the list. When he reached the
last item he dropped the phone and threw his head in his hands.
Maureen Lassiter heard him screaming, “No, no, no!” followed by an
insane rant which concluded with the words, “I’m going to kill the
bitch!”

***

Maureen hung
up the phone and stared in disbelief as her future evaporated in
front of her eyes, almost a million pounds disappearing from sight
like a bad magic trick.

There, on the
bottom line of the attachment, was the information that she and
Barry had thought was totally secret:

“
Britannic
Investment Group, Isle of Man: Manx Bank & Trust

a/c nr.
08136541, password: Alleviate, passcode:
19-24356-98734-34285-A-Q.

Balance: GBP
974,645.00”

It had gone.
All of it. It was now safely secured in the coffers of Her
Majesty’s Treasury.

Chapter
6
3

Notting Hill,
London, two days earlier.

With help from
Doc, Gil had had tracked back the last payment made to the
Chameleon, the one which had been made by the Maratis. According to
the Chameleon’s online statement, the payment originated from the
National Bank of Marat. The details of the account number and
account holder were shown clearly on the statement, as required by
international law. Armed with this information, and the time of the
transaction, Doc made a polite enquiry of the bank’s lightly
protected, daily suspense account database. As Doc later explained
to Gil, the reason these bank records are only protected by a
simple firewall is that they are ‘read only’ and they contain less
data than is printed on cheques and bank debit cards. He joked that
the information on the database wouldn’t be of any use to a
Nigerian spammer, for instance. This is because access to this
suspense account database does not allow the reader to alter or
amend any records. Nor does it help a hacker gain access to the
triple firewalled, independently wired and much more secure,
transactional banking system.

Nonetheless,
and as expected, the database contained a back up copy of all the
day’s transactions, in and out. A quick look down the list produced
the information Doc had been seeking. Minutes after the $1 million
was transferred to the Chameleon, the same account was debited
£100k in favour of Britannic Investments in the Isle of Man. It had
been credited to account number 08136541. Doc was now on the
prowl.

***

Barry
Mitchinson proved to be a hard man to hack. Doc tried
unsuccessfully for hours before accepting defeat. It wasn’t that
Barry’s system was secure; it was simply the case that he was
seldom online and one can’t hack an unconnected computer. The
breakthrough came when Gil suggested that Doc might have more
success with a different approach.

Doc owned one
suit, and it had to serve for weddings, funerals and the occasional
court appearance. It was looking a little worn, but with a new
white shirt and tie and heavy rimmed glasses, Doc looked the part
as he rang the doorbell.

A tearful
Eloise Ter Haar answered the door and looked enquiringly at the
rather odd young man in the suit.

“
Eloise Ter
Haar?” he asked.

“
Or Eloise
Mitchinson,” she hastily replied, “yes.”

“
Graham
North, Security Services IT Breaches Division.” He held up a
warrant card that looked real enough at a quick glance but which in
reality was photoshopped from an internet image. Doc felt that the
leather card holder, £7 from Amazon, lent it an air of
authority.

“
I’m afraid
my husband no longer lives here. I don’t know where he is. But
let’s discuss this inside. To the neighbours you’ll look like a
bailiff.”

Doc sat down
with the very attractive middle aged woman. He had always preferred
women of his own age but suddenly he could see the attraction of a
more mature woman. Even in her tearstained condition she looked
sophisticated and sexy. He wondered briefly whether, given her
vulnerable emotional state, he might have a chance of getting to
know her a little better. His wandering attention was halted by her
sultry but quivering voice.

“
What exactly
can I do for you, Mr North?”

Doc explained
that a computer at that IP address had attempted to access a
restricted server in MI5, and that he was here to investigate. He
also explained that it was an offence and that it carried jail
time. He wasn’t actually sure that was the case but it sounded
ominous and had the desired effect. Eloise swore that she had never
tried to access the MI5 server, that she was innocent and that Doc
must believe her, she had just lost a close personal friend who had
committed suicide and her husband had left her for a hussy who
lured him away with perverted sex.

Doc lost his
train of thought for a moment as visual images raced across his
still adolescent brain.

“
Don’t worry,
Eloise, the chances are that your husband’s computer is trying to
link in to the server automatically when you log on. I take it you
have a shared computer?”

She
nodded.

Eloise led Doc
upstairs, her tight pencil skirt swaying with her hips as she
ascended the steep staircase. She turned to ensure he was
following, and smiled when she saw where his gaze was
centred.

Eloise showed
Doc the large screen Apple Desktop PC and switched it
on.

“
Please do as
you like with it. I don’t need any more trouble in my
life.”