Avenger bs-3

by Andy McNab

  Deveraux smiled more broadly than Elena had ever seen her smile before. She knew the smile was false, fake, but then so much about Deveraux was false and fake.

  'It's just a temporary thing,' said Deveraux. 'And anyway, Elena and I are spending most of our time getting to know each other.' She looked at Elena, who didn't miss the hint of warning in her eyes. 'Aren't we, Elena?'

  Elena's smile was a lot less convincing, but she did her best. 'Mmm.'

  'That's why we decided on taking this little holiday together. To get to know each other even better.'

  Dave Brooker was leaning against the old range cooker that dominated the kitchen. Both his hands were wrapped around a huge blue and white striped mug. 'Where was it you said you were going?'

  'I didn't,' said Deveraux quickly. 'But we're going to Paris and then on to Rome. Rome is so beautiful at this time of year, don't you think?'

  Dave took a mouthful of his tea and swallowed noisily. 'Oh, yeah, beautiful,' he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. 'Smashing.'

  Dave didn't go in for bullshit, but he saw the look that Jane flashed towards him. He knew it well: it meant 'Behave!' He took another sip of tea and then asked another question. 'What was it you said you do?'

  'Do?'

  'For a living.'

  'Oh, I'm in publishing.'

  Dave didn't look impressed, but Jane did. 'How exciting.'

  Deveraux shrugged modestly, as if it were no big deal. 'Not really.'

  'Have you heard anything from my dad?' said Elena, looking directly at Jane and avoiding Deveraux's stare.

  Far more was being said by looks and stares in the Foxcroft kitchen than by words.

  'No, darling, I'm afraid we haven't,' said Jane, leaning forward to give Elena a comforting squeeze on the arm. 'Dave and I think he must have gone back to Nigeria. It's a shame for you, I know, but he's probably happier there. And what about Danny – have you heard from him? You two were so close.'

  This time Elena did pick up Deveraux's warning look and she shook her head.

  'He could be anywhere,' said Dave. 'We haven't heard a word since he went off with his granddad. What was it, six months ago?'

  'Seven,' said Jane. 'We do miss him. I often wonder what he's up to.'

  At that moment Danny was standing across the road from the back wall of the Foxcroft garden and staring up at the second floor and his old bedroom window. The curtains were open and he could just glimpse a vividly coloured poster on the bedroom wall. He couldn't see clearly enough to make out what was on the poster, but the colours told him that it wasn't one of his.

  He couldn't have expected it to be. Someone had taken over the room that had been Danny's for so many years and made it his own. That was right. Things move on and change, but for Danny the change had been almost total; there was little of his old life to hang on to now.

  Only Elena. He forced back the waves of nostalgia and concentrated on the future. Elena had done so much for him and his grandfather over the past seven months. Now it was his turn to do as much for her.

  Danny recognized that some of what Elena had written online to Black Star had been for real. Genuine. She was hurting. She hadn't got any family to turn to. It was up to him to look after her.

  He took a final look at his old bedroom window and then turned away from Foxcroft and began walking back to the car.

  Deveraux had decided it was time for her and Elena to make their exit. She finished her tea. 'Well, it's been lovely seeing you both but we need to make our way to the Passport Office. The traffic in Victoria can be awful.' She held the passport application form towards Dave. 'If you wouldn't mind…?'

  Dave picked up a pen lying on the kitchen worktop. When he had signed the application form and one of the photographs, Elena stood up, went over to Jane and hugged her.

  'Here's your birth certificate,' said Jane, handing it to her. 'Enjoy your holiday. And please be careful.' She turned to Deveraux. 'All these terrible bombings going on in the world. You don't know where they'll strike next.'

  'I know,' said Deveraux, taking one of Elena's hands in hers. 'But don't worry, I'll look after her.'

  They left quickly and Deveraux said nothing more until they were well away from Foxcroft. 'You were supposed to avoid mentioning your father.'

  Elena shrugged her shoulders but didn't reply.

  They turned a corner into the street where they had parked the car. Up ahead, they could see Danny standing on the pavement.

  Deveraux sighed. 'Why do both of you find it so difficult to obey simple orders?'

  It wasn't until they got much closer that they spotted the look of panic on Danny's face. Instinctively Deveraux's hand went towards the 9mm Sig pistol that was in the side pocket of her handbag.

  But then, as they reached Danny, they saw exactly why Danny was panicking.

  The Nissan. It was gone.

  14

  Elena was scared. For the first time it looked as though she was really starting to crack under the pressure of the past few weeks. 'Black Star, he's found us.'

  'Shut up!' hissed Deveraux. She turned angrily to Danny. 'What happened? Tell me. Quickly!'

  Danny knew there was no point in even attempting a lie. 'I just wanted to have a look at Foxcroft. It's been a long time. I was only gone fifteen minutes. Twenty max.'

  'And you left the keys in the car?'

  'No, I've got them.' Danny held up the key fob. 'Had them with me all the time.'

  A blue Vauxhall Corsa slipped into the space until recently occupied by the Nissan. The young driver switched off the engine, got out of the car and pressed his key fob. The Corsa's rear lights flashed, the doors locked and the driver walked away quickly.

  Deveraux was still glaring at Danny. 'You did lock the vehicle before you left?'

  Danny didn't reply. He didn't need to: the look on his face told its own story.

  'Bloody amateurs,' growled Deveraux and glanced at Elena. 'And you! Pull yourself together!'

  'Look, I'm sorry,' said Danny quickly. 'I know I messed up-'

  'Messed up!' hissed Deveraux. 'You're a disaster. I should never have agreed to you being part of this operation. I cannot depend on you and that means you put the entire mission at risk. You're out!'

  'No!' Elena moved to Danny's side and grabbed his arm. 'If he doesn't go, then I don't! No way! I'm not going without Danny!'

  Deveraux said no more. She just punched a number into her Xda to arrange for a replacement vehicle to be delivered to her.

  They took a taxi to the Passport Office. Elena was just in time for her appointment, and while she went through the form-filling procedure with an inquisitive official, Deveraux finalized the arrangements for returning to Oxford.

  Danny hung around, saying little, looking as guilty as he felt and anticipating the lecture on sticking to SOPs he would no doubt receive from his grandfather when they got back to the hotel.

  By early afternoon they were on the M40, heading out of London in a dark blue Vectra. The atmosphere was tense; hardly a word was spoken.

  At around 2:30 Deveraux took a call informing her that the Nissan had been found wrapped around a lamppost in Wandsworth.

  'Joyriders,' she growled, looking back at Danny.

  Danny smiled weakly. 'At least they got it back.'

  Deveraux didn't even bother to reply.

  15

  Pointer kept a silver-framed photograph of his late son Chuck by the side of his computer.

  In the head-and-shoulders shot Chuck looked every bit the conventional all-American boy. His body was angled slightly to the right, but his head was turned back towards the camera so that his strong and confident gaze was directed straight at the lens.

  His fair hair was parted neatly. His eyes sparkled with humour and good health, and his broad, winning smile was a tribute to the wonders of the dental brace and the expert work of the family's orthodontist.

  Chuck looked great. A real picture of health.

  Pointer had just pi
nned another photograph to the wall behind the computer. It was of Elena.

  Pointer had had little difficulty in hacking into the UK Passport Service's computer system. It was a relatively simple exploit for a hacker with his skills. As always, he had spoofed his ID and then, with his formidable expertise, had gained root access of the system. Firewalls were no barrier to an expert hacker like Black Star; he had written his own scripts to negotiate his way through or around them.

  He found the most recent passport applications and then scrolled through the alphabetical list until he found Elena's, and with it the photograph that had been scanned into the system. All the information was speedily downloaded onto his own computer. Along with the photograph.

  It was good for Black Star to study the face of his latest Angel, even though the photograph itself was far less impressive than the one of his son.

  Passport photographs rarely did the sitter much justice, and this one was no exception. Elena was staring directly into the camera, her face expressionless, giving little away.

  But Black Star felt he already knew everything he needed to know about his latest Angel.

  And he knew exactly what to expect the next time he was online with Elena.

  I'M SORRY, I HAVE TO WAIT A WEEK TILL MY PASSPORTS DELIVERED.

  NO PROBLEM, GOLA. THINGS THIS SIDE TAKE A LITTLE ORGANIZING. BUT EVERYTHING WILL BE READY FOR UR ARRIVAL!!!

  This side!' said Deveraux. 'He's talking about America!'

  'Not necessarily,' said Dr Jacobson. 'Could be Europe.'

  Deveraux was sitting next to Elena. 'Ask him.'

  CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE I'M GOING?

  NOT YET, GOLA, BUT I PROMISE U, UR GONNA BE FAMOUS!!!

  'Bastard,' breathed Danny.

  Elena typed in her next question without waiting for further instructions.

  WILL I GET TO MEET YOU???

  'I didn't tell you to ask him that,' said Deveraux quickly. 'Don't write anything more. And that's an order!'

  'I need to know,' said Elena quietly as she stared at the screen.

  The operations room was completely silent apart from the slight hum of electricity coming from Elena's laptop. They waited.

  WE'LL CERTAINLY MEET UP SOMEDAY, GOLA. NO DOUBT ABOUT THAT.

  Elena turned to Danny. 'You're right, he is a bastard.'

  YOU STILL FEELING STRONG???

  Tell him you're OK,' said Deveraux.

  Elena's hands went back to the keyboard.

  FEELING STRONGER EVERY DAY!!!

  THAT'S GREAT. B READY 2 LEAVE THE DAY AFTER OR PASSPORT ARRIVES. INFORMATION WILL COME 2 U SOON. AND GOLA, THIS IS IMPORTANT: U MUST TAKE THE HARD DRIVE FROM UR COMPUTER AND DESTROY IT JUST BEFORE U LEAVE. GOT THAT?????

  Deveraux nodded to Elena.

  YEAH, NO PROBLEM. I'LL DO IT.

  TERRIFIC. GOTTA GO! B IN TOUCH AGAIN SOON, BYE 4 NOW!!!

  16

  The training had to continue. With just a week to make final preparations there was still a lot to be covered. Both Fergus and Deveraux knew that much would depend on Danny, wherever the mission eventually took place. And Deveraux had made it perfectly clear to Fergus as the days passed that she was still far from satisfied with his grandson's progress.

  Danny's tradecraft skills needed to be sharpened, and Fergus had set him a foot surveillance test. His task was to stake out the Oxford city centre bus station, ping Marcie Deveraux and then follow her as she spent the morning in the city.

  Before the exercise began, Fergus took Danny to one side. He wasn't gentle with his last-minute instructions. 'Look, you've fucked up more than once, Danny, and losing the car didn't help. I know you can do the job but Deveraux still wants you out. So don't let me down today, and don't let yourself down. Get out there and show Deveraux she's wrong.'

  Danny nodded, but he left for the bus station feeling anxious and uncertain.

  For the purpose of the exercise, Deveraux was playing the role of Elena. Danny's job was to follow and watch, because if Deveraux stopped and spoke to anyone and then gave the GO signal, it would mean the person she was with was Black Star.

  Danny's first task was to ping Deveraux at the bus station. He sat on a bench by the news stand with a copy of the Big Issue in his hands and a pair of earphones in his ears. As always, when on surveillance, he had to appear as natural as possible: he couldn't be seen to be actually looking for someone.

  He glanced at the magazine and rocked his head slightly, as if listening to the music coming from his iPod. In reality the machine in his jacket pocket was not even switched on – he had to be completely in tune with the sights and sounds of everything going on around him.

  The air brakes of a bus sounded and the doors opened as passengers stepped down from the vehicle. Deveraux wasn't going to make this easy for him, so Danny paid special attention to every black woman he saw. They had done this exercise several times before, and each time Deveraux had changed her appearance as the target. Different clothes, different hairstyle, maybe a hat. And then she would make the follow more difficult by walking slowly, or faster than usual. Sometimes she would stop dead in her tracks and turn round, looking for anything suspicious.

  Fergus had told Danny many times that a good ping and pick of the target always led to a good follow. If the ping was messed up, it usually meant that the whole surveillance 'serial' was a series of stumbling cock-ups.

  Danny looked over the top of his Big Issue and pinged a tall black woman. She hadn't got off one of the arriving buses but had appeared from a side road. She was dressed in jeans, a nylon bomber jacket and a black baseball cap. Her head was down but Danny had followed Deveraux often enough to know her purposeful walk, however much she attempted to disguise it.

  He waited for her to pass from left to right before beginning the follow. As Deveraux crossed the busy road and headed for the town centre, Danny was thirty metres behind her. It was the correct distance: any more than thirty metres and he could easily lose her in the crowd; any closer and she might just as easily realize that she was being followed.

  Deveraux kept to the right-hand side of the road, so Danny crossed to the left. It was the best position, allowing a little more distance and giving a better view.

  It had started well and Danny remembered to keep his eyes down on Deveraux's feet and the blue Nike trainers she was wearing rather than on the back of her head. That way, if she were to turn back suddenly, they were less likely to make accidental eye contact, which would blow the operation.

  Danny knew that he had to remain third party aware too. And in these training exercises the third party included his grandfather, who seemed to have a knack for being in the right place when things went wrong for Danny.

  Fergus knew the route Deveraux was taking and Danny was only too aware that his grandfather was being driven to different vantage spots so that he could watch his progress.

  Deveraux was walking more slowly. Danny did the same – and checked out what was ahead of him so that if she stopped completely, he would have a reason for doing the same. He was in luck: there was a row of shops immediately ahead. Or was it just luck? His grandfather and Deveraux had devised this operation; they would want to see how he reacted to every change in the situation.

  As Deveraux came to a halt at a bus shelter, joining two other people, Danny turned and checked out the kettles and radios in the window of a small electrical goods shop. He had his back to the target now, and she was unsighted, so he quickly moved back a little so that the area around the bus shelter was reflected in the window.

  The target had been unsighted to him for two or three seconds, long enough to move away. Cars and trucks were passing, and the window Danny was looking into was smeared and grimy. His view was far from perfect but he could just make out the three figures inside the bus shelter. He reckoned that Deveraux's eyes would be burning into his back, just waiting for him to make the error of turning round to check that she was still there.

  But Danny knew better than that, and he also
knew that he couldn't stand staring at kettles indefinitely. He reached into a pocket of his bomber jacket and took out his mobile phone. It was switched off, but Danny acted as though he was answering a call as he continued to watch Deveraux's reflection in the grimy window.

  She must have been satisfied with what he was doing because after another minute she was foxtrot again. After a few seconds, pretending to end the call, Danny was also on the move.

  Soon after, Deveraux made another attempt at tricking him. He watched her take a right turn, and instead of following immediately, he walked past the junction and saw that she was still on the right-hand side of the road, passing a row of houses. He turned back and followed, still on the opposite side to Deveraux. She took another right, and Danny immediately became suspicious. Two right turns meant that Deveraux was heading back in the direction she had come from.

  As Danny reached the next junction, he saw Deveraux take a third right. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was looping her track, checking to see whether she was being followed. For all Danny knew, she would be round the next corner, with Fergus sitting in a car nearby waiting for him to fall into the trap.

  'You don't fool me, Marcie,' whispered Danny as he walked slowly back to the main road. He slipped into a phone box and went through the motions of pretending to make a call while he kept his eyes on the junction where his target was due to appear.

  The phone box was good cover from both the third party and the target. When Deveraux appeared – if she appeared – she would see only a shadowy shape there.

  Danny waited and began to grow anxious when Deveraux failed to arrive at the junction. Maybe he'd got it wrong; maybe the whole route was anti-surveillance. But his grandfather had told him many times that surveillance was not an exact science. No one could cover all the options. It was a question of weighing up those options and then making a decision. Danny was starting to think he had made the wrong decision, but then Deveraux finally appeared at the junction. He'd got it right.