Code Name: Chameleons

By John Lavernoich

A respected judge's children have been kidnappedand it's up to the female detectives of Chameleons, Inc. to rescue them.

But it's only the beginning of a whirlwind adventure that soon pits Chameleons, Inc. against the super-criminal responsible for the kidnappingand a deadly plot to take over the world. Can five female detectives stop this criminal mastermind from taking over the worldand at the same, uncover the shocking secret behind him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 1, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469717371

John Lavernoich

JOHN LAVERNOICH is a free-lance writer who has written various articles for several publications, including the Comics Buyer's Guide. CODE NAME: CHAMELEONS is Mr. Lavernoich's first novel. Mr. Lavernoich currently lives in Winsted, CT.

Book preview

One

Tuesday, April 2nd, 8a.m. EDT: Washington, D.C., like many American cities, had much to offer. The fact that it was also the nation’s capital gave it added prestige. However, Washington, like other cities, also had its share of problems. In Washington’s case, its problems weren’t limited to City Hall and the ghetto streets; those who lived and/or worked in the city, even on this grey morning, were all too aware of that fact. They also knew that no matter how many problems you solve over a indefinite period of time, new ones come to take their place.

Theo Marcos, a nattily-dressed tall man with slick black hair, sat on a park bench in Washington’s National Mall, as he read his copy of this morning’s Washington Post. His attention was turned to the front page, especially the lead headline story. The main headline was in large bold letters: VIRGINIA CRIME LORD GIVEN LIFE SENTENCE. The sub-headline below it told why: LANG ORDERED MURDERS OF U.S. POLITICIANS.

Man, thought Marcos, Dr. Olympus’s gonna go nuts when he learns that Lang’s going up the river!

Lang, of course, was Alonzo Brutus Lang, one of Virginia’s most feared crime bosses—and Marcos was one of his most loyal and trusted lieutenants. Marcos knew that Lang ordered the murders of several U.S. politicians who represented Virginia—the same politicians who supported a powerful anticrime bill that had yet to be passed by Congress. Marcos also knew that the anti-crime bill would cause headaches—for Lang and his ilk—in the long run.

Several weeks ago, Marcos was out west on mob business. Only forty-eight hours after Marcos left, Lang was arrested on several charges of Murder One. By the time Marcos returned from his business trip the day before, Lang was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison without any chance of parole. Marcos’ greatest fear had come true—Lang, who had avoided both arrest and prosecution for twenty years, thanks to not only his quick and devious thinking, but also his associates and crooked lawyers, was now behind bars.

Within minutes, Marcos got up from the park bench, as he took along his copy of today’s paper, and began to walk down one length of the National Mall. Soon, Marcos approached a trash-can, threw the newspaper into it—and then walked away.

If I were one of the mooks who put Lang away, thought Marcos, I wouldn’t have much of a future to look forward to!

Oh, well—I’m sure glad I didn’t squeal on Lang. And besides, whomever Dr. Olympus picks as his next target’s no concern of mine!

Two

Tuesday, April 23rd, 6:30p.m. EDT—three weeks later: the sky was a bit brighter on this clear evening in Georgetown, VA, considering the fact that Daylight Savings Time was almost approaching the end of its first month. It was already springtime, but everybody—including those who lived in suburbia—was already looking forward to the summer months that lay ahead.

Inside the Rhyser house, in the living room, ten-year-old Mark Rhyser and his eight-year-old sister Lena were sitting on the sofa, as they watched the TV. Soon, Mark and Lena’s father, Philip Rhyser, entered the living room, wearing a three-piece suit—the kind he usually wore on weekdays, even though he had to wear a black robe over it. That wasn’t unusual, considering the fact that he was a Virginia district judge.

Mark—Lena, said Judge Rhyser, Your mother and I’ll be leaving soon. Hopefully, you two did your homework before you decided to watch TV.

Sure we did, said Mark, who along with Lena noticed their father’s presence.

I wish we were going out with you and Mom, said Lena.

So do I, said Judge Rhyser, But where we’re going, it’s strictly adults-only. Besides, it’s the first free night I’ve had in several weeks. And you know me—even when I’m home on most weeknights, I’m still working as far as reviewing important cases are concerned.

We understand, Dad, said Mark, We know how important your job is.

Don’t worry, kids—the next free night I get, we’ll go on a family outing.

Soon, the doorbell rang, as Judge Rhyser’s wife Wilma, wearing a pink dress and jacket, came downstairs and answered the front door. Connie Ryan, a sixteen-year-old girl who was one of the Rhysers’ next-door neighbors entered the Rhyser house, carrying a large pizza box—Connie’s knapsack, which contained her schoolbooks, was strapped to her back.

Hello, Connie, said Mrs. Rhyser.

Hi, Mrs. Rhyser, said Connie, Have Mark and Lena eaten yet?

No—but I’m betting that you brought over that pizza as a precautionary measure.

You’re right, Mrs. Rhyser. Hopefully, the kids’ll like pepperoni and sausage.

Don’t worry, Connie—they will. With that, Mrs. Rhyser led Connie into the living room, where they joined Judge Rhyser, Mark, and Lena.

Wow, said Mark excitedly, Pizza!

Ditto, said Lena.

Well, Connie, chuckled Judge Rhyser, I guess you won’t have any trouble with the kids tonight.

Don’t worry, Judge Rhyser, said Connie, as she placed the pizza box on the coffee table, I won’t.

Remember to behave nicely for Connie, said Mrs. Rhyser, We’ll see you in the morning.

You won’t see them when you get home tonight? How come?

Mark and Lena are going on a field trip tomorrow morning, explained Judge Rhyser, All the more reason for them to go to bed early.

Knowing Mark and Lena, said Connie, I’ll bet that they’ll be in bed by 8p.m.

Well, kids—good-bye—and good night. See you first thing tomorrow morning. Judge and Mrs. Rhyser kissed Mark and Lena good-bye—then Connie escorted the married couple to the garage via the kitchen, where she was going to get some plates and napkins to bring back into the living room, so that she and the kids could eat dinner.

* * * * *

A minute later, the automatic garage door opened, as the Buick LaSabre carrying the Rhysers pulled out of the Rhyser house’s two-car garage, then the driveway, and onto the residential street—within seconds, the automatic garage door was lowered shut. Soon, the Rhysers drove off to their appointed dinner date with some old friends—unaware of the nightmare that awaited them when they got home.

Three

Tuesday, April 23rd, 9:45p.m. EDT: It was already dark, as the Buick LaSabre carrying the Rhysers started to pull into the drive-way—at the same time, the automatic garage door was raised open, as the car entered the Rhyser house’s two-car garage. Once the car entered the garage, the automatic garage door was lowered shut. Soon, Judge and Mrs. Rhyser entered their home—particularly, the kitchen via the garage. All was quiet—too quiet.

Connie, yelled Mrs. Rhyser, We’re home! But there was no answer. Suddenly, Mrs. Rhyser was worried—and for a good reason. Philip—you don’t—?

Maybe Connie’s asleep, said Judge Rhyser, who began to show a hint of worriment in his voice, Still—! Soon, Judge and Mrs. Rhyser headed in the direction of the living room.

I don’t like this, Philip, said Mrs. Rhyser worriedly, What if some thief came in and—?

We’ve got the best home security technology to protect us from all types of criminals, said Judge Rhyser, But I’ll be shocked if the worst has happened.

Judge and Mrs. Rhyser entered the living room, where everything in it was still intact. However, they soon reacted with shock to what they saw: namely, Connie Ryan lying dead on the floor—her body drained of all her blood. Taped to the front of her sweater was a sealed envelope addressed to Judge Rhyser.

M-M-My god, said Mrs. Rhyser, as Judge Rhyser rushed over to Connie’s corpse. Judge Rhyser then got down on his knees, and felt Connie’s left wrist in order to check her pulse.

Connie’s dead, said Judge Rhyser grimly, who then noticed that Connie’s skin color was now a ghastly white, I’d hate to think what’d happen to Mark and Lena if—

MARK—LENA! screamed a teary-eyed Mrs. Rhyser, as she ran out of the living room, and started to head upstairs, while Judge Rhyser got up and followed her.

Mark’s bedroom was already dark by the time Mrs. Rhyser had gotten upstairs. Soon, Mrs. Rhyser opened the door, and turned on the light switch—upon entering, she soon saw that Mark’s bedroom was still intact, including his untouched bed, indicating that there was no evidence that a violent struggle took place. But there was no sign of Mark. Mrs. Rhyser, now joined by Judge Rhyser, then headed to Lena’s bedroom—after opening the door and turning on the light switch, she saw that Lena’s bedroom was just like Mark’s—intact and untouched. And like Mark, Lena was also missing.

Soon, Mrs. Rhyser started to cry, as Judge Rhyser comforted her. Like his wife, Judge Rhyser was both shocked and worried. While the Rhysers prayed for the safe return of their children, they didn’t know that their personal nightmare was about to get even worse in ways that they couldn’t imagine.

Four

Tuesday, April 23rd, 11:20p.m. EDT: Judge and Mrs. Rhyser—who were still coming to grips with not only their children’s mysterious disappearance, but also Connie Ryan’s death—sat in the office of police lieutenant Morton Wilson inside the Georgetown Police Dept. building. Earlier, Judge Rhyser had called the police in regards to not only Mark and Lena’s sudden disappearance, but also Connie’s death—in addition, Judge Rhyser also called Connie’s parents, Matthew and Maxine Ryan, to inform them of her death; needless to say, they took it very gravely. Lt. Wilson, a homicide detective who was at the Rhyser house earlier to question Judge and Mrs. Rhyser (who was still grief-stricken to even answer any questions), was just coming back from the local morgue, where he’d just learned the cause of Connie’s death—Judge and Mrs. Rhyser had arrived at police headquarters twenty minutes earlier to confer with Lt. Wilson.

Soon, Lt. Wilson, an African-American in his early-fifties, entered his office and sat down at his desk—in his right jacket pocket was the sealed envelope that was taped to Connie’s sweater and addressed to Judge Rhyser.

Well, Judge Rhyser—Mrs. Rhyser, said Lt. Wilson, The coroner examined Miss Ryan’s corpse—believe it or not, someone—or something—drained all the blood from her body. I’d say that a vampire was responsible—except that there were no teeth marks on her neck. And as we all know, vampires don’t exist.

But how? asked Judge Rhyser.

That we can’t answer—at least right now. One thing’s for sure—whoever’s responsible for killing Miss Ryan’s definitely a real pro.

I hope you’re faring better with finding Mark and Lena.

We’re trying—but considering what you told us earlier, that may be a bit difficult. Lt. Wilson then removed the sealed envelope