“No windows or cameras in here. Private interrogation suite?” Elias looked straight at her from across the table. His prison, although he didn't know it, was across town from the domestic drama at the Andersons. He had been kept several hours already. This was illegal detention, and the company knew it; he doubted they had informed the police, and he suspected he'd never see a trial.
Multinational corporations policed themselves. They were going to deal with him in private, he knew; maybe they'd kill him, maybe they wouldn't. It was a risk of his business; what you got for being caught dressed as an air force colonel on the sub-levels of a military contractor, attempting to walk out the door with their latest technology.
“This is a private interview suite.” She was sat opposite, a perfect femme fatale, not a hair out of place, lipstick and blush measured to accentuate her magnificent cheekbones and lips, eyebrows plucked to precise lines.
Already he was analysing her. She understood her beauty, used it as a weapon in boardroom politics. She knew it was important to dress well, too. Her suit was tailor made, her shoes Italian, her blouse an expensive cut. She had pale skin and lethal black hair, and spoke with a precise diction that suggested private schooling. She looked as thought she were in her early 30s but looked after herself – she was probably older. Without question she was an executive – a powerful one, with a million-dollar paycheck.
“Is that what this is? A private interview?” He kept his voice measured, listening instead to her register. If he wanted, he was sure he could copy it. That's what he did; mimic anyone, to perfection. Man or woman, changing his voice was just a matter of control. Appearance was harder, but he'd slipped across too many borders, as too many people, to consider it a major problem.
“Of sorts,” she said. “A job interview, to be accurate.” Icy, all business. In thirteen words he knew her personality, her psychological profile, the way she carried herself. Her body shape was entirely different to his of course, a perfect hourglass he could never replicate. But as an academic exercise, he found it interesting to map her identity.
“You know you're keeping me here against the law?” he asked, a measured taunt. “Generally a job interview doesn't involve illegal detention.”
“Illegal? Come now. So is breaking into a restricted access area, impersonating a military officer, corporate espionage, and attempting to steal a prototype guidance chip. Who put you up to it? Hmm?” She tilted her head, like an apex predator sizing up its next meal. “Hmm? No answer? No matter. We are far more interested in you than who your current employer happens to be. We know exactly who you are.”
Elias smiled passively. Of course they did. He'd been caught through the worst possible luck imaginable; their servers had been reset and passwords altered. Otherwise he'd have been in and out without a moment's thought. He'd done it a thousand times before, to hundreds of companies across the world. That's why he'd attracted that stupid name in some circles. Chameleon? Lizards that changed colour? It didn't even scratch the surface of his talents. Psychology, profiling, misdirection, acting and makeup. He made his money on elaborate cons and daring thefts – if he said so himself.
“Do tell.”
“A corporate spy for hire, known for extensive use of disguise and impersonation. No job too big or small, as long as you get your rather exorbitant fee. Suspected in countless acts of theft, espionage, sudden changes of corporate policy, embarrassing incidents that harm reputations... and that doesn't even go into the long list of international incidents you are believed to have perpetrated. You tend to use non-lethal means; assuming a fitting identity through extensive use of prosthetics or character acting. You even use non-lethal means when cornered, too, it seems. What did we find on you when we caught you in the labs?” she paused as she looked at her file. “Gas and flashbangs, unlikely to cause any permanent damage. How touching.”
“There are rules,” Elias said calmly. “Business is business. But when it comes to people, I like to exercise a little respect for life. Call me old fashioned, but not enough people play the game properly anymore, miss?”
“Ms. Bell. Veronica Bell. I'm the vice-president of corporate intelligence.”
She smiled, pencil-thin, and leaned forward. Her fingers slid over the desk, her body revealing just enough cleavage. She was using seduction as a weapon; that meant she wanted something. He knew it was coming, knew every step in her repertoire already. Seduce, entice, an offer, then an ultimatum.
“You are quite a talent, Elias. Which is why we want you to work for us. Exclusively. We need an infiltrator, someone who can be anybody we want them to be. Sometimes your job might be to replace someone for a few days, sign a document, grant us a contract. At other times it will be to obtain our rivals' information. Standard corporate espionage. We could get someone second-rate, but we want you and your rather unique talents; we only take the best. I'm to make you an offer you will not refuse.”
Suddenly it all made sense. An unfortunate server outage? The disinterest in his employer? It had been a set-up. They just wanted him here, now, to join them. He felt like an idiot. “Join, or I'll disappear?”
“Something like that. But I think you will appreciate the job. The pay is outstanding, the benefits... exceptional. We will even offer you an upgrade to your equipment.”
“Sounds like I don't have a choice.” He was playing along now; at least until they let him out. The upgrade was something else he hadn't seen coming. Usually corporations couldn't dream to match his own tools. This one seemed confident they had something he'd never seen.
Her fingernails traced the top of his hands. Then, without warning, something penetrated his skin. It still burned as he recoiled in agony. Blood oozed from a tiny, precise wound. She smiled, pulling back her hand to reveal a micro-injector in her palm.
“That was insurance. I just implanted a chip, no larger than a grain of sand, allowing us to track you. We couldn't exactly let you go without it. As I told you, this is an interview, and we require a demonstration of your skill to make sure we have the right man.”
Elias nursed his hand, glaring angrily across the table. “Thanks for the warning. No what do I have to do?”
“Simple: walk out the front door. What you do then is up to you, but we want you to report back here, to my office on the 7th floor, at 11am tomorrow morning. That's it: leave now, then slip back in undetected. All staff have been given your description, and are to shoot on sight, or alert a guard to shoot you on sight, if you are seen out of custody.”
“And the upgrade?”
She smiled, and pulled out a pen from her inside pocket. It was black, unremarkable, save for a little button and a strange symbol. Elias looked at it with confusion. It didn't look like any technology he was familiar with.
“The ultimate disguise kit. Point and fire. The subject will be unharmed, as long as you shoot them again once you're finished with the disguise. That's all there is to it.”
Elias' confusion continued. What the hell was she talking about? “That thing?”
“This thing. Oh, it's quite a surprising tool. We obtained it from... well, that doesn't matter. There are some unique applications. I'll let you see for yourself. To describe its effects would be an injustice.”
“Fine. Tomorrow, 11am, with just a pen to escape. I can do that.”
“Outstanding. Now, listen carefully. The next person to come into this room will be one of our nursing staff, who will treat that little injury. I will leave the nurse's personnel file on the desk. You may consider that an opportunity to brush up on some key details.”
“What does the pen do?” Elias asked, picking it up curiously.
She smiled, icy-calm, as only someone who held all the cards could be. “I suggest you use it to find out. Remember though; this freedom is an act of faith on my part. If you are not in my office for 11am tomorrow, the chip I implanted will allow our agents to find you. And they will kill you without hesitation; no second chances. Now, either use the pen at your medical, or take it back to your cell with my compliments. I'm sure curiosity, survival instinct, or sheer inevitability will get the better of you.”
Elias shrugged, looking at the pen. A strange feeling passed over him, as if someone had just handed him a gun. He glanced back at his captor. Veronica was too arrogant and confident. She thought he was still going to be thinking about the pen by the time she left the room. What would happen, he wondered, if he just used it now?
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