Stone suddenly had a cold realization.
“You’re taking Linda with you?”
“Of course I am, Eric. After all, she is my property, bought and paid for.”
“But you can’t!” Stone pleaded.
“Oh, but I can — and I will!”
“She won’t go.”
“Chameleon will do whatever I tell her to do. And in time, so will Linda Smart.”
“She would die first!” Stone spat.
“Whatever.”
Cartwright shrugged dismissively. He aimed the gun at Stone and checked his watch again.
“I’m sorry Eric, but I’m growing tired of this conversation, and now your time is up — quite literally. Please put your hands behind your head.”
Stone stared hard into Cartwright’s eyes, but then he complied. He had no other choice.
“My Linda won’t go — I know it!” Stone said with as much conviction as he could muster.
Cartwright considered his comment, weighing it up in his head.
“You’re wrong, Eric. She will do exactly as I say. Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”
He turned towards Linda and spoke very clearly. “Chameleon, take this gun and kill Eric Stone.”
Linda turned towards Cartwright and slowly reached for the gun. For a moment, Stone saw that he had an opportunity to charge, but somehow he was unable or unwilling to attack Linda. Like an automaton, she slowly turned the gun towards Eric.
“Linda,” he pleaded, “you don’t have to do this!”
The gun wavered very slightly.
“Chameleon!” Cartwright said firmly, “You have my instructions — now do as I have asked.”
The gun swung back towards Eric. Linda’s eyes were wet with tears.
“Linda!” Stone pleaded again. “Don’t do this. I love you and you love me — for your own sake, don’t do it!”
The tears were flowing freely now, and her lips were moving silently. Over and over, she seemed to be mouthing ‘I love you’. For the first time Cartwright realized that he might be losing control, he thumped Linda on the shoulder to gain her attention and screamed into her ear.
“Chameleon, I am your master. You must do as I say. SHOOT THE BASTARD!”
Linda locked eyes with Eric. He realized that they were no longer the dull lifeless eyes of Chameleon, but the bright emerald green eyes of Linda Smart.
“Shoot the bastard?” she asked.
“SHOOT THE BASTARD!” Cartwright screamed in her ear.
“Shoot the bastard?” she asked again, looking deep into Eric’s eyes.
Praying that he was right, Stone nodded and spoke a single word.
“Yes.”
Linda turned the gun towards Cartwright and fired. Stone sprang to his feet and quickly grabbed the gun from her unresisting fingers. He swung around to point the weapon at Cartwright, but there was no need. He lay on the floor in a spreading pool of his own blood. The bullet had struck his neck from the side, destroying his windpipe. A steady stream of arterial blood spurted from the opposite side of his throat. His lips were moving as he attempted to form words, but there was no sound. Stone leaned forward and made eye contact.
“Charles Rathbone was a war hero, and my friend. This is his retribution.”
Soon the blood slowed and The Fixer lay dead. For the first time in days, Eric Stone relaxed. Like a snake without its head, the Wrecking Crew was no more. It was over.
Stone gently slipped his arm around Linda’s shoulder and pulled her close. She turned and looked at him with tear-reddened eyes.
“Eric, you came!”
Linda looked around in confusion, she gasped when she saw Cartwright’s bloody corpse.
“Oh my God! What happened?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain later. For now you’re safe — that’s all that matters.”
He held her tightly and kissed her head.
“I love you, Linda Smart.”
Linda hugged him back.
A Scottish voice spoke from the doorway.
“Drop yer gun, or I’ll shoot ye deed.”
Stone’s shoulders slumped. He realized that he had forgotten about the skinny man that had been smoking at the front of the house. With a sigh of resignation, he dropped the gun.
“Turn around,” Gordon McIntosh said.
Linda and Stone slowly turned to face the door. As they did, Stone casually removed his hand from Linda’s shoulder and surreptitiously searched the desk behind for anything that he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed around something that seemed heavy and made of glass. It felt like a large paperweight, not an ideal weapon, but a good projectile. He decided that it would have to do. If he was going to save Linda, he had to do something, even if it cost his own life. It was time to act. Stone smiled and pointed to the door behind the skinny Scotsman.
“Look, a duck!” he said.
“What?” Gordon frowned, temporarily confused.
“DUCK!” Stone shouted, as he shoved Linda aside and simultaneously threw the weapon.
The Kilner jar sailed across the room and shattered against Gordon’s gun — showering him in liquid. Instantly aware of the lethal chemicals on his clothes, the Wrecking Crew’s arsonist tried desperately to rub them off. After a few seconds, he realized that there was no fire, and with a self-conscious smile, he again pointed the gun at Eric.
“It looks like I got lucky,” he said. “It must have been a bad batch of—”
There was a blinding flash of light as the chemicals dripping to the floor finally mixed to a critical formula. Gordon screamed horribly and tried to run outside, as the flames engulfed his body. In his panic, he missed the door, colliding heavily with the wall. He staggered backwards and then fell to the ground. The heat from the flames was incredible. Stone pulled Linda behind the desk for cover and looked around desperately for some means of escape. The fire was spreading rapidly, fuelled by air from the open door. In seconds it had already engulfed the entire width of the office, thick smoke was billowing across the ceiling. To Stone there seemed to be no escape, but Linda pulled his arm and pointed to the bookcase behind the desk.
“There’s a door!” she said.
“Where?”
“Look.” She pointed to a slightly worn arc on the plush office carpet. “There must be a secret door.”
Stone jumped forward and started to tug desperately at the shelves, but the door would not move. He could feel the radiated heat of the fire burning his back and hair.
“There must be a hidden catch,” Linda shouted above the roar of the flames.
Stone searched frantically, but he could find nothing. He began kicking at the shelves but they seemed impervious to even his most powerful strikes.
“I’ve found it!” Linda yelled from under the desk, “There’s a switch under here.”
She flicked the switch and the door swung smoothly open. It was the door to a small room, no more than a cupboard, containing some office supplies and a little safe. Stone looked at the flames and shrugged, it would have to do. He grabbed Linda by the hand and dragged her inside. There was no internal handle, so Eric couldn’t quite pull the door shut, but at least it provided some protection from the searing heat of the fire.
“We need to get out of here!” Linda said as the smoke started to seep around the door.
The fire outside was now so fierce that the cupboard was brightly lit. Stone thumped each of the walls in turn, but they were all constructed from solid brick. He quickly searched along the shelves but the only tools he could find were pens, pencils, and a stapler. He looked up — and hoped. Bracing his feet against the shelves on either side, he climbed up until he could reach the ceiling. He gave it an experimental thump with his fist, it sounded hollow. It was just drywall.