by Andy McNab
He nodded as he listened to Danny's instructions. 'Good, I'll be there soon. Wait out.'
He closed down his mobile and flushed the toilet and then went back into the sitting room, where Deveraux was watching the messages between Black Star and Elena.
Pointer's hands were moving swiftly on the computer keyboard as he calmly sought to pinpoint the source of the attack on his machine. The technicians at the British Consulate may have been good, but compared to Pointer they were like kids at primary school . . .
Deveraux and Fergus had no idea that the hunted was becoming the hunter. Fergus was more concerned about Elena. 'We've got to pull her out of there now.'
'No,' said Deveraux. 'Not yet. Fran and Mick are tracing the Ramirez call through ECHELON. We'll find Black Star and get him soon. If we pull Elena out now, he'll know we're onto him. She has to continue.'
The ECHELON computer, which collected all the electronic information zipping around in space from phone calls, texts and e-mails and sent it back to earth to be stored in huge computer mainframes, was already pinpointing Herman's calls and tracing precisely where those calls had been received.
But Fergus was old school. Technology had moved on hugely since he had been active in the field, but first and foremost he still trusted his own skills, experience and instinct. 'That stuff she's making is totally unstable – it could detonate at any minute. We have to get her out.'
'No!' said Deveraux sharply. 'I command this mission, Watts, remember that. Elena is safe enough. The other IEDs remained stable until they were detonated. We're sure that the Williams incident in Pittsburgh was user error; nothing to do with the device. Black Star knows exactly what he's doing.'
Black Star did know exactly what he was doing. In every way. As Fergus and Deveraux fell silent and stared at the Xda on the table, they were totally unaware of the almost inaudible click that came from the machine.
In the bottom right-hand corner of the Xda was the lens of the inbuilt video camera. It could be used for making short video movies or for video conference calls. But Pointer had almost effortlessly hacked into the PDA and had found his own use for the camera.
As the Xda made the single, almost silent click, a video picture of Fergus and Deveraux staring at the machine appeared in the top right-hand corner of Pointer's computer screen. And not only could he see them, he could also hear every word they said, as soon as they spoke. It wasn't as good as the set-up in Elena's room – the range of the mic would only allow him to hear conversation close to the Xda – but it was adequate for his purposes.
'Good afternoon,' he said softly. 'Welcome to my world. And what, I wonder, have you got to say for yourselves?'
As if on cue, Fergus turned to look at Deveraux, and as he spoke, his words were perfectly clear.
'Once she's got enough crystals, he'll tell her how to use candles and Vaseline to make it into PE.'
Pointer smiled. 'Bravo. You obviously know what you're talking about, whoever you are.' His hands went back to the keyboard as he prepared to type out another message for Elena. 'But I think that from now on I will allow you to know only some of what I have to say to Elena. Just to keep you where I want you.'
He began to type.
Ur doin well, Gola. U ok???
Pointer watched Fergus and Deveraux exchange a look as they attempted to figure out Black Star's next move.
OK.
Elena waited and Fergus and Deveraux waited, but only Elena could hear the deep, calm voice that came from the speaker in the television set in her room.
'Hello, Elena. Don't be alarmed. It's me, Black Star. I'm here for you.'
She stared at the blank television screen. Pointer watched her carefully on his monitor. He knew the words would be so clear that it would seem almost as though Black Star was there in the room with her. He made his voice warm and comforting, although he knew it would not be what Elena had expected.
Elena didn't seem frightened, just startled. She smiled. 'Can you hear me too?'
'Sure I can. Hear you and see you. Are you OK with that?'
Elena nodded, clearly puzzled. 'You sound older than I thought you would.'
'Yeah, I know. Are you OK with that too?'
'Yes. But why are you speaking to me now, after all this time?'
As Pointer sat in his study staring into Elena's eyes, he felt a sudden flicker of doubt.
His enemies were closing in. Somehow they'd got close enough to target the communication between Elena's BlackBerry and the secure site. He didn't have time to find out how. Clearly their technical resources were almost as good as his.
He had to focus on Elena. He was so certain she was his. And yet he wanted to hear Elena say she would go through with it. She had to tell him.
'Two reasons,' he said softly. 'Firstly, we're very close now. I need to know that you really believe in what we've been talking about all these weeks. I need to know that you really want to do what we've been planning.'
He saw Elena hesitate, and then she smiled again.
'Yes, I do want to do it. So much.'
Pointer heard the confidence in her voice and saw conviction in her eyes. He smiled. 'I knew I could trust you, Elena, just like you've grown to trust me. So we're going to change things slightly from now on. Sometimes I'll speak to you like this, and then you reply just like you are now. But sometimes I'll send a message like we've been doing all along. And I'll tell you whether or not to send a message back through the BlackBerry. OK?'
Elena nodded. 'Yes. But why?'
Pointer's voice was calm and reassuring. 'Just a little extra security. We don't want anything to go wrong now we're so close.'
'No, said Elena, staring at the screen as though she was looking into his eyes. 'No, we don't.'
'Good. So this is what you need to do next . . .'
*
In the Four Seasons Fergus was becoming increasingly anxious as no further messages appeared on the Xda.
Like Deveraux, he liked to be in control – if not of the operation, then at least of his own part in it. But his role now was unclear; he'd flown across the Atlantic to help Elena and now he was doing nothing. Elena's life was in danger and he was sitting on his arse waiting for something to happen. That wasn't Fergus Watts; the time had come to push Deveraux into pulling Elena out.
'Look, Marcie,' he said loudly, causing Deveraux to turn and face him. 'You killed Joey; I understand that. In your position I would probably have done the same thing. But this isn't necessary. We'll get Black Star now; you said so yourself. Don't be responsible for the deaths of father and daughter. Get Elena out of there now.'
Back in The Hamptons, Pointer was about to click on the link on his computer that allowed him to speak to Elena. But he stopped and stared at Fergus and Deveraux. 'So, you know Elena.' His eyes focused on Deveraux. 'And you killed her father. How interesting. How very interesting.' His piercing eyes turned to Elena again. 'And you, my special Angel,' he whispered, 'you are part of it all. How much do you know?'
38
Marcie Deveraux's Xda rang. She turned to look through the picture window at the Manhattan skyline as she answered the call. 'Yes, Mick?'
'We've got him this time. His name is Pointer, Charles Pointer, and he's in The Hamptons. We're on the way.'
'So you managed to trace him through Ramirez's mobile phone.'
'Yeah.'
'Good. What do we know about Pointer?'
'Millionaire. Computer genius. Sold up his business five years ago. It's all being e-mailed to you.'
Deveraux could hear the screaming engine of Fran and Mick's hire car. She stared out of the window as Mick quickly gave her more details of what had happened at the East 96th Street penthouse.
'How long will it take you to get to Pointer?' she said when Mick had finished.
'The speed Fran's driving, ninety minutes max.'
'Good. Call me before you go sterile.'
Deveraux ended the call and turned round to bring Fergus up to sp
eed. But Fergus wasn't there. She ran to the bathroom and threw open the door. No Fergus.
He was nowhere in the penthouse. He had gone. Deveraux rushed back into the sitting room and was relieved to see the sheet of paper the consulate technician had left for her on the table. He had written down the number of Fergus's new mobile phone.
Deveraux snatched the paper from the tabletop and grabbed her Xda. She punched in the unfamiliar number.
Fergus was already outside the Four Seasons, being shown into a cab by a uniformed porter.
'Roosevelt Hotel first,' he said to the driver. 'And I need you to wait a couple of minutes and then take me on to the Hotel Pennsylvania. Quick as you can.'
His new mobile phone was ringing in his pocket. Deveraux's number. He killed the call. It rang again. Deveraux. He ignored it. He would have turned the phone off completely but he needed to keep it on in case Danny called.
As the taxi worked its way through the traffic, Fergus ran through possible options for when he got to the Pennsylvania.
His phone beeped. A text message from Deveraux.
GOT BS. CALL ME.
Fergus punched the shortcut for Deveraux's number.
'How dare you walk out on me!' she bawled. 'I ordered you to stay here!'
'I'm just doing what I came here to do,' said Fergus. 'I'll look after Elena while you deal with Black Star.'
'That's exactly what I have done! His name is Charles Pointer; he's holed up in The Hamptons. This will all be over in less than two hours.'
'So we pull Elena out now. I'll warn Danny I'm on my way and make the mix safe as soon as I get there.'
'No, Watts, you will not. Elena stays there, keeping Black Star company until Fran and Mick take him down. If you pull her out now, you will almost certainly be responsible for losing us Black Star and setting him free to kill again. Do not pull her out!'
Charles Pointer had heard only one side of the telephone conversations. But it was enough.
Herman was dead – he must be if they had his cell phone. His loyal servant, his only friend, the one person in the world who had understood and shared his grief at the loss of Chuck. He was gone. They had both known, without ever saying, that it would end this way for them. They had silently accepted it, and in one way Pointer was envious of Herman. It was over now for him. He was at peace.
Pointer realized then that what he too desired more than anything was peace. But his ultimate act of revenge had to be carried out. He would make certain that it happened, even if he was not alive to see it.
He had less than two hours. He would not run; he would not try to escape; it was probably impossible now, and besides, he no longer wanted to escape.
His mind was working quickly. It was obvious that he had been set up. He thought back to the way he had first encountered Elena as she sought help on the Deep Web. He had helped her hack into first the MI5 computer system and then the British government's Permanent Joint Headquarters mainframe computer at Northwood. She had been desperate to access top-secret information in the SECRET: ULTRA files stored on the mainframe.
Those exploits had been for real; Pointer had no doubt about that.
Quickly he ran through the sequence of events. Elena had been searching for information to clear her friend's grandfather of accusations of treachery.
The exploit had been a success; Elena had confirmed that when she made contact again on the Deep Web.
But what had happened in the interim?
Pointer smiled an ironic smile. He looked at the video picture of Marcie with admiration as he realized that, had he had more time, he would probably have rejected Elena as an Angel.
But he hadn't. He'd made a mistake, and even geniuses made mistakes.
It was all so clear now: Elena had been recruited by the very people she had battled against.
Send a hacker to catch a hacker. Clever, very clever.
And yet, perhaps not clever enough.
His eyes flicked to the picture of Elena as she worked on in the hotel room. His mistake was going to prove fatal for him, but not for his mission.
He was confident that Elena was his now. Not theirs. He knew he had turned her completely. His enemies had made their mistake by offering him up such a vulnerable target. This was no seasoned intelligence operative; this was an inexperienced teenager, full of doubts and conflicts, suffering from huge emotional pain after her father's disappearance. And he still had that card to play.
Could she even now be playing a double game? He watched her for a few minutes more. Elena was risking her life by just making the device, and she was doing it with total commitment, in exactly the same way as his other Angels had.
No. He pushed the doubt from his mind. Elena would carry out his mission. The watchers would not stop her, not now.
39
Fergus was finding the walk down the concrete fire escape stairs at the Pennsylvania difficult and painful. He had taken the elevator to the floor above Elena's and was making his way down to RV with Danny.
Danny was relieved and delighted to see his grandfather; suddenly it seemed far more possible that they would all get out of this alive.
But Fergus had no time for greetings. 'Is she still coming out to get ice?'
'Every fifteen minutes or so.'
Fergus pulled the clear plastic bag of dull white powder from his pocket and Danny's eyes widened as he saw it.
'Is that . . . ?'
Fergus nodded. 'Yeah, cocaine. Makes the PE inert. Something good coming from this shit, eh? I picked up this little trick in Colombia. I was buying it in Oxford, a bit at a time. There's other stuff that'll do the same job, but this is the easiest to get hold of. I hope she can use it.' He stared through the small window. 'Which one's her room?'
'Fifth door down to the left; right-hand side. The ice machine is on our side, about halfway towards her door.'
They were suddenly aware of voices and they quickly ducked down below the window as a group of German tourists passed the fire escape door and headed on, past Elena's room towards the lifts.
'The next time Elena comes out, I'll—' Fergus stopped mid-sentence as he stood up and looked through the window. Elena's door was opening. 'Stay here.'
As Elena closed the door behind her, a large paper cup in each hand, she looked up and saw Fergus emerge from the door to the fire escape. She smiled briefly, and then Fergus was glad to see that she remembered her training and ignored him completely. He limped slowly towards her with the bag of white powder tucked under his jacket.
As they got closer, he heard the ping of the elevator as it stopped at the eighth floor. It was round the corner, past Elena's room, but already he could hear the sound of people approaching.
Fergus ignored the excited female voices. They were speaking Italian; this place was like the United Nations. The brush contact was on – nothing would stop it now; this might well be the last ice trip. Fergus fixed his eyes on Elena's and kept moving.
They were just a couple of steps away from each other when the Italian tourists turned the corner and came in their direction. Fergus dropped the bag into one of Elena's paper cups. 'Mix it,' he said as they passed each other.