Andy McNab - Avenger

Her mind was racing. She had at least remembered Danny's instruction to pick up a giveaway magazine on her way into the coffee shop. She opened Welcome to New York, the Big Apple at a random page and attempted to look as though she was casually flicking through as she enjoyed her breakfast. Then she closed the magazine, took a pencil from her jacket pocket and began to write on the front cover, hoping it looked like she was just making a note of something of interest within its glossy pages.

Danny reached behind the drinks dispenser on the eighth floor and found there was nothing attached to the Velcro. Elena had obviously taken his message last night, but for some reason had not left one of her own with Black Star's latest orders.

He had begun to worry when he went out early, bought a pretzel and a coffee from a stall on the street corner as a cover for checking the rubbish bin, and saw that there was no new 'DLB live' marker.

But he was still checking the DLB, assuming that Elena had gone off SOPs and had left a message without leaving a marker. But there was nothing. He was starting to flap as he checked his watch. It was 08:20 – ten minutes until his scheduled contact – and he had no idea if she would be there.

At 08:00, exactly on schedule, he had taken a call from Deveraux, who prevented him from asking about Fergus by giving him a string of orders about where to deliver the BlackBerry once it was in his hands. The ear-bashing he'd had from her about his activities at Columbus Circle the previous evening still smarting, Danny listened in silence.

'And there's something else,' she went on before Danny could mention his grandfather. 'You are to take over surveillance of Elena today; I need the other two for something else. I want to know where Elena is, what she's doing and who she meets. Surveillance, Danny, that's all. Report to me.'

She hung up without mentioning Fergus. The morning had not begun well.

Danny decided to risk going off SOPs and walked past Elena's room to see if there were clues to whether or not she had followed any of his instructions from last night. He began to feel a little better as he approached the door. The DO NOT DISTURB sign was plainly visible.

As he passed by, he stopped and went down on one knee, pretending to retie his trainer laces. The sound of droning voices just filtered through the door. It had to be C-SPAN; politicians always sounded boring.

So Elena had acted on his instructions. But why hadn't she left a message of her own? Maybe she had; maybe the container had slipped away from the Velcro and fallen on the floor behind the vending machine.

Danny got up and went back to the DLB. He pushed himself up against the wall and attempted to look behind the machine. All he could see was electrical wiring and the casing for the dispenser's cooling system.

'Come on, Elena, where is it?' he whispered. He dropped to his knees and reached as far as he could along the gap between the wall and the back of the machine, but still found nothing.

He crawled around to the side and slid his right hand underneath the machine. Still nothing. Gradually he moved round to the front, each time sliding his hand as far as he could beneath the dispenser in the increasingly vain hope of finding the plastic film canister.

And then the door opened and a middle-aged man walked in. He stared at Danny, looking puzzled. 'Lost something?'

Danny smiled weakly; his hand was pushed in so hard it was almost jammed under the machine. 'I dropped my money – a quarter.'

'A whole quarter?' said the man, feigning horror. 'And you can't find it?'

Danny shook his head, feeling as stupid as he looked, and pulled his hand out from under the machine. 'I don't have any more cash, not until I go to a cash point.'

'Well, it's lucky I was passing and saw you scrambling about on the floor,' said the man, reaching into a pocket. 'We can't have you going thirsty, can we? You look as though you need a drink after all that effort.' He held out a coin.

'No. No, I couldn't,' said Danny, scrambling to his feet. 'It's really nice of you, but-'

'Look, I insist,' said the man firmly. 'We Americans pride ourselves on being hospitable to our overseas visitors.' He grinned. 'Specially our poor relations from across the pond.'

He pressed the coin into Danny's hand. 'You Brits just kill me,' he said with a smile, then turned and headed back into the corridor. Danny had no alternative but to slip the money into the machine while he waited for the man to reach the elevators. He checked his watch again: 08:26 – only four minutes until he was meant to make the contact.

Quickly he ran to the fire escape and hurtled down the stairs, taking three or four at a time, desperately hoping that Elena would be waiting for him in the coffee shop. If she wasn't, none of Deveraux's orders of last night could be carried out, and Danny had a pretty good idea who would be getting the blame for the cock-up.

But as he ran down towards the lobby, it wasn't Deveraux he was worried about, or even himself. It was Elena; he had promised he would be there for her at all times.

In the coffee shop Elena was kicking herself for being so dumb, and mentally running through her options. But so much relied on everyone following SOPs, sticking to the training, following the practised moves. And she'd blown it right at the beginning. She started to feel sick again. Perhaps, she thought, if Danny turned up, everything would be sorted. She checked her watch; it was 08:31. Danny was late.

Elena's breakfast things had been cleared away. She couldn't sit around for much longer; Black Star had given her precise instructions on the timing of her first shopping venture. She glanced towards the entrance of the crowded coffee shop and almost smiled: Danny was there, with a bottle of water in one hand. He was breathing deeply and Elena saw a bead of sweat trickle down one side of his face.

As soon as she was certain that Danny had seen her, she got up and walked quickly out of the restaurant. She couldn't go back now. She had to keep going. And hope.

Danny looked over to the place where Elena had been sitting and instantly spotted the magazine on the tabletop. It was folded down the centre, just as he had instructed.

He began to move towards the table; slowly, not rushing, remembering his grandfather's training: be third party aware and always have a reason for doing whatever you do.

Casually he sauntered towards the table. It was free; he would take it. But then, when he was just a couple of metres away, a woman came bustling by. She reached the table and slid her tray onto it, then turned and smiled at Danny. 'Mine, I think.'

Danny was completely unfazed. 'Sure – I just left my magazine behind.' He reached out and grasped the folded magazine firmly, feeling the BlackBerry Elena had tucked inside. As he picked up magazine and BlackBerry, he grinned at the woman. 'Have a nice day.'

He moved away, heading for his RV. He left the hotel, carefully slipping the BlackBerry out of the magazine and into his jacket pocket. And as he continued along the street, he unfolded the magazine and saw Elena's handwriting on the front. He smiled with relief; he knew where she was going.

'Next time, Elena,' he breathed, 'stick to SOPs!'

Deveraux's plan for uncovering Black Star's identity and location was three-pronged, with each member of her team playing a role in the high-speed operation.

Elena was central to the operation. She was the focus for Black Star and, through her, Deveraux was certain she could reach him.

The first part of the plan was to get hold of the BlackBerry that Black Star had given Elena. All the information stored in its memory needed to be downloaded and analysed. And even if that information gave no clues to the location of Black Star, the technical experts on hand at the British Consulate still had a job to do. Deveraux wanted to be able to see and read every future online conversation between the target and his latest recruit. The experts could fix that.