Andy McNab - Avenger

'Yes, well… it all takes time. It was Special Branch, simply doing their job. As far as they're concerned, he's still on the wanted list. While we attempt to get him out, our job is to get on with what we're here for, which means sticking to SOPs. Your grandfather would tell you that himself.'

That much was true enough – Fergus would certainly have told Danny to stick to SOPs – but Danny wasn't naive enough to believe Deveraux was giving him the whole picture. It was just too convenient. Fergus didn't trust Deveraux and Danny didn't either. But there was still the mission, and Elena, to think of.

Danny suddenly realized that if Fergus never made it out to New York, he would have to take on the responsibility of ensuring that he and Elena got out, once the mission was completed. But how could he do that? His grandfather had been taking care of all the arrangements. 'OK,' he said. 'But you'll let me know as soon as you hear anything?'

'Yes. But don't tell Elena about this in any DLB messages. She has a job to do, and with or without your grandfather, the mission goes ahead as planned.'

'Yeah, all right.'

'And Danny, I repeat, stick to SOPs – no Fergus Watts-style heroics.'

Deveraux ended the call and Danny sat back on his bed, trying to weigh up what he needed to do in his grandfather's absence, and he realized immediately that there was another thing he couldn't do: he couldn't provide the powder that made mix thirty-nine safe. Fergus was meant to get it in New York, and Danny didn't even know what it was. He just had to hope that Elena would never have to make the PE.

The plan for the scheduled brush contact was that Danny would leave the hotel, go and buy a city guide and then be back in reception exactly on time. He and Elena would carry out the brush contact as she walked away from the lifts and he walked towards them. Simple, but as they both knew, simplicity didn't always mean success.

Danny left his room, took the lift down to reception, walked out through the revolving doors, turned to his left and strode purposefully away down the street. Fifteen minutes to go. He knew that for now, despite his worries about Fergus, he had to remain focused on the job in hand.

It was still light, but up above the towering buildings the sky was heavy with darkening clouds that threatened a downpour before the night was through. The pavements were heaving with bodies, the traffic was nose to tail, and everywhere was noise and movement.

Danny was overawed by the size and spectacle of Manhattan. It was just like the movies. Only bigger. To his right was Madison Square Garden. Danny's sport was athletics; he had run long-distance and cross country for his county. He had no particular interest in boxing, but even he knew that many of the greatest fights in the history of the sport had taken place in that arena.

Danny kept walking for five minutes, passing at least one store where he could have stopped to buy a guide, but he was using up time, taking in the sights like any normal tourist. Always have a reason for doing whatever you are doing; it was one of the golden rules, an SOP.

Danny smiled as he passed a metal grille in the roadway where steam poured up from somewhere below. Just like the movies. He checked his watch again as he reached another store: nine minutes to go. He went inside, plucked a city guide from a revolving stand and went up to the counter to pay.

He was back outside and retracing his steps with seven minutes to go. Four and a half minutes later he was staring at the front of the hotel. His natural impulse to be there on time had caused him to walk a little quicker than before. He stopped, took the guide from his jacket pocket and opened it, staring at a page as though he was refreshing his memory on some city site of special interest.

He looked at his watch again, knowing that this must be the final time. Anyone seeing him checking his watch every thirty seconds or so might become suspicious.

Danny slipped the guide back into his pocket and went back into the hotel reception with less than a minute to go. It was still busy, with new arrivals at the desk and others going to and from the coffee shop. But as Danny's eyes scanned the area, he quickly realized that Elena was not there.

He went to the reception desk and picked up a couple of leaflets offering guided tours of the city. As he stood and pretended to read, he was counting down the seconds. Elena had still not appeared.

The doors to one of the lifts opened and five people stepped out. But not Elena. She was late: something must have happened to her. Danny's thoughts were racing. He couldn't just stand there indefinitely; he couldn't go up to one of the desk clerks and ask them to call Elena's room; but he had to make a decision.

Danny knew that SOPs demanded that if Elena didn't show, he should go away and return exactly thirty minutes later to try again. But just like not being able to reach his grandfather on the phone, it didn't feel right, not so soon after their arrival.

It was two minutes past contact time and Danny was about to walk back to the coffee shop when another lift arrived at the ground floor and the doors slid open. Elena was there, in a crowd of seven or eight people.

The brush contact was still on; late but still on. Danny dropped the leaflet back onto the desk and turned to walk towards the lift. As he neared Elena, he could just see the small black 35mm film container in her right hand. He thought back to the first time they had attempted this manoeuvre, when the canister had ended up tumbling to the ground. They couldn't afford a repeat of that disaster; they had no idea who might be watching, and there was also the hotel CCTV system. If an alert security guard saw the contact on a monitor screen, it could easily be taken as a drugs deal, and then Danny and Elena would be lifted and the operation would be compromised before it had even started.

The gap between them narrowed to less than two metres; there were just a couple more strides for them both. Danny's right hand was at his side; his fingers opened just enough to receive the canister. They had not once made eye contact.

And then they were side by side, and the canister slipped from Elena's right hand into Danny's. The exchange was as clean and smooth as a perfect baton change by a couple of Olympic sprinters.

Danny could feel the soft part of the Velcro that Elena had stuck all the way around the canister. He kept walking towards the lifts without looking back; he didn't see Elena go through the revolving doors and leave the hotel.

In her penthouse suite at the exclusive Four Seasons Hotel on East 57th Street, Marcie Deveraux gazed out through the picture window across the Manhattan skyline as she spoke into her Xda. 'She's going where?'

'A Japanese restaurant,' said Danny into his mobile as he re-read the note Elena had slipped into the canister. 'At the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle. He's made a reservation and she's on her way there now.'

Deveraux had heard of the new, highly acclaimed development on the south-west corner of Central Park, but had not yet visited it. The two massive towers housed expensive office space and a luxury hotel and were connected by a huge glass and steel central area with classy restaurants and shops. 'Give me the name of the restaurant,' said Deveraux into her Xda.

Danny was in his room at the Hotel Pennsylvania. He read out the name written on the paper.

'What else?' snapped Deveraux.

'Elena's sure there must be some sort of surveillance device in the room. She's sure he's watching her somehow.'

'Just as we thought. Continue.'

Danny was desperate for news of his grandfather. 'What about my granddad? What's happened?'

'There's nothing I can tell you at the moment.'