The Consultant

2 | The Chameleon

Somewhere in the alleyways of Brazil, outside a club.

"Is Bones in?" asked a man with a large hoodie covering his face.

"Depends on whoz askin'," growled the bald, beefed up bouncer, his entire structure blocking the door. Both his hands were covered in tattoos of snakes, dragons and all sorts of creepy stuff.

There was the usual chaos at The Saldana Club. The night life of Brazil was as vibrant and lively as their annual carnival. The club goers included people from all age groups. The people in the club were busy indulging in a variety of activities -- kissing, romancing, hooking up and a great deal more.

This was practically the scene in every club.

But this club was famous for another attraction: DRUGS.

The drugs served here were specially grown and imported. These drugs were costlier yet better than the ordinary drugs. They helped you get high and remain in that state for days together.

There were other things too, for which The Saldana Club was famous or let's just say 'infamous'. The club was the zone for many gang wars, hub of human trafficking and the spot for drug dealings. But these things seldom affected the owner Jimmy 'Bones' Cruz.

"Business is good, so I am good," was his usual line.

Today was no different.

"Tell Bones, its Ruiz. Here to offer a truce," said the man in the hoodie.

The beefy bouncer disappeared inside the club and returned after a few seconds and roughly pushed the man through the entrance. "The man in the red suit at the back of the club," growled the bouncer.

"As if I don't know, who Bones is," Ruiz muttered as he walked towards the back of the club passing many intoxicated youngsters, who had no idea what was about to happen.

Being in his own thoughts about what was going happen, Ruiz crashed headlong into a waiter.

"s**t man! Can't you see where you are going, oldie!" hissed Ruiz.

"Really sorry sir. I'll clean the---" started the waiter who looked like he was in his sixties, before Ruiz cut him.

"Forget it, oldie!" sneered Ruiz and made his way along the dance floor.

Ruiz pulled back his hood and smiled when he saw Bones sitting guarded by his minions. No one could save Bones from what was to come, not even God.

"Ah! Ruiz, mi amigo. Come. Sit," said Bones.

Once Ruiz was seated sat, Bones said, "So, what brings the traitor to his master. Surely not fate, eh amigo?"

Ruiz smiled and said, "I am no traitor, Bones. I just got a better opportunity in the form of my new boss. I am not here to fight, but to offer you a deal on behalf of THE CHAMELEON."

"What does that pest want?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"What?!?!" asked a baffled Bones.

"Boss will be here in a few minutes."

"Impossible! My men are all around the place. They have orders to finish him off, if they so much as lay their eyes on him."

"You would be stupid, if you had not given those orders. But its not that easy to find him. You very well know, he can hide in plain sight."

At the same time as if on que, the whole club erupted with the sounds of gunshots and people shouting and screaming. The disco music playing in the background gave a creepy sort of dramatic effect to the scene that was unfolding.

Ten minutes passed.

The bouncers out of the club, the people in the club, the minions guarding Bones, all were dead.... except him.

The happy going, lively dance club up to a few minutes ago was converted into a war zone, full of blood and dead bodies. This all happened in a matter of seconds, even before Bones could move from his place.

He sat frozen in his seat with a zombie-like expression on his deadly pale face.

The old waiter from before, now had a gun in one hand and was staring down at Bones.

"What do you want?" asked Bones trying to keep his voice from quivering.

"You are more intelligent than I thought.... I need the consignment of drugs in your possession, that have just arrived from the U.S."

"I can't let you have them. They are worth $500 million," Bones managed to answer.

"You are a true crime veteran who lives by a f*****g code, aren't you? You value your dignity more than your life. Okay, then! As it is I know the location of your consignment, it was easy locating it, by the way. I don't need you alive any more. So, do you have any last wish?"

"Who are you?" Bones asked, his lips trembling.

"Finally! The question I was waiting for!"

Removing the mask that helped him take on the disguise of an old and weak waiter; sitting in front of Bones now was the creator of this mess, 'The Chameleon'.

"No one even in their wildest dreams, would ever imagine an old scared waiter to be the most wanted criminal of the great United States of America, right?" he asked in a dramatic tone.

"So how do I look? Eh? Handsome, right?"

"Yeah, you do look handsome. Like those underwear models on TV," Bones answered, trying to be cheeky.

"I love your sense of humour but alas..."

"What?" Bones croaked.

"I don't let the people who have seen my face live."

A single gunshot echoed in the silent club, that marked the end of Bones.

The bullet pierced Bones' skull exactly in the center, preventing major loss of blood; but not death.

Suddenly the Chameleon started shouting out orders to his gang members, "The show's over, boys! Get the bloody doctors down here! I want all the viable organs from all these dead bodies here to be removed, be it their eyes, kidneys, heart or even the f*****g skin on their bodies! Don't leave a single organ! Alive they were useless to us, but at least in their death let them be useful. The black market for organs' is growing day by day, that too with guaranteed profits. So, Chop, Chop! guys. Move your fat asses!"

After the gruelling challenging work of almost five hours, including their careful removal and storage, the organs were ready to be transported.

"Boss, we are done," Ruiz called out.

As The Chameleon was about to leave in his car with his newly collected booty, he turned back to take one last look at the scary scene he was leaving behind. He chuckled and said,

"This is my gift to you, amigo."

~