Avenger (11 page)

The Japanese restaurant was nothing like anything else Elena had ever experienced. She had never eaten Japanese food; she'd had Chinese, but that was usually from south-east London takeaways with their paper menus, Perspex-covered countertops, bottles of soy sauce in display cases and piles of freebie calendars decorated with lanterns and dragons.

The restaurant of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel was like another world. Elena had followed Black Star's instructions and taken a cab to Columbus Circle. She walked into the Time Warner Center and took the escalator up to the mezzanine.

The entrance to the Mandarin was close by, but she paused and looked back through the huge glass windows to Columbus Circle itself. It was a huge concrete roundabout where at least six roads met and spewed traffic away in every direction. At its centre was a twenty-metre-high granite column, topped with a marble statue of Christopher Columbus. But Elena wasn't interested in Columbus; she was thinking of Danny, wondering if he was out there somewhere, looking out for her like he had promised.

Feeling very out of place, she walked into the Mandarin and took the elevator to the thirty-fifth floor of one of the two towers. She was welcomed at the door of the restaurant like a familiar and valued customer.

The restaurant was subtly lit and tastefully decorated, with panoramic views over Central Park and Manhattan Island. The tables were covered with white linen and immaculately laid, the cutlery nestling next to sparkling wine glasses. One wall of the room was entirely covered with rack upon rack of wine bottles.

Elena was shown to a secluded booth and informed that each course of her meal had been selected in advance.

As she waited for the first course, she glanced around the busy restaurant, feeling nervous and self-conscious. It was obviously the haunt of the wealthy and influential. Some diners were chatting loudly to each other, talking business deals; others were speaking on mobiles, texting, or even working on palm-top computers. Even though the working day was over in New York, it didn't mean that work ground to a halt.

Most tables had at least two diners, but Elena's eyes were searching for those eating singly. She picked out two men and one woman who were alone at their tables. The woman was elderly and heavily bejewelled. There was no way she was Black Star.

One of the men was young, mid to late twenties, using his chopsticks like they were welded to his hands, enjoying his meal down to the last few grains of rice.

The other man was older, dark-skinned and smartly suited. He was talking on a mobile phone but, like everyone else, appeared to be taking absolutely no notice whatsoever of Elena.

It was hopeless. Black Star was probably nowhere near the restaurant or even Columbus Circle, but even so, Elena constantly had the feeling that somehow he was watching her. Suddenly she became aware of English accents, loud English accents.

Across the room a group of mainly young men were seated around a large circular table. Their striped shirts and garish ties were as loud as their voices. Elena could hear them talking finance and deals and percentages and profit margins. It was obvious that they worked for one of the business organizations that had recently moved into the Columbus Circle complex.

One of the men, who appeared to have had too much to drink, began arguing with a waiter over a missing plate of prawns. 'Well, you make bloody sure they don't turn up on the bill when it arrives,' he said loudly. 'I'm in finance, you know. I check bills.'

Elena looked away. 'Prat,' she said to herself.

The waiter brought the first course; as he placed the dishes on the table, he saw Elena's look of confusion.

'Crab,' he said with a smile. 'Fennel and green almond mousseline, with blue crab consommé jelly.'

Elena tried to look as though she knew exactly what the waiter was talking about as she nodded her thanks. He smiled again and moved silently away.

The food looked and smelled good, but Elena wasn't really hungry. With her body on UK time, it felt too late to be eating. She picked at the starter but soon pushed away the plate with most of the food still remaining, then got the BlackBerry out of her bag.

As she logged on, the waiter reappeared and glanced at her plate with a look of disappointment. 'You don't like crab?'

Elena smiled. 'It was lovely. I'm just not very hungry.'

The waiter shrugged. 'That's a pity; there are many more courses to follow. Perhaps the chef's lobster will tempt you. Or the suckling pig.'

He gathered up the plates and moved away. Elena looked at her BlackBerry as Black Star's first message appeared on the screen.

Hi Cola, so wot d'u think???

Elena looked around the restaurant again; everyone appeared to be having a great time.

Its very nice.

She could almost feel the rage in Black Star's reply.

Nice!!!!!!! Sure its nice!!! Cos those guys there
r the haves. They got everything they want, they don't care about the likes
of u & me. Nothing ever went wrong 4 those guys. Look at them, smug, plenty
of money, no problems, they got everything they want. But did one of them
give u a second look, or even a smile????

The bile of Black Star's words hit Elena with a familiar jolt. This is what the last few months had been like, and the anger and hatred of their online conversations had gradually affected her mood. At first she had been a willing participant, but more recently – although she had never really admitted it to Dr Jacobson or even to herself – it had started to change the way she saw the world. And here it was happening all over again. She suddenly felt her spirits sink.

She looked around at her fellow diners, telling herself it was the tiredness that was making her feel so low, but then she found herself thinking that perhaps Black Star was right: they all looked ugly, wolfish, smug and self-satisfied in their own wealthy worlds. She tapped out her reply.

The waiter smiled.

Sure the waiter smiled – hes paid 2 smile.
And even he wouldnt stop 2 help if he saw u injured in the street. Just wanted
2 remind you what a crap world it is, Gola. But we'll show em, Gola. U r the
1 with the POWER!!!

Elena moved the BlackBerry slightly as the waiter returned with a dish of lobster and noodles. He placed the dish on the table and turned quickly away. All at once it did seem to Elena that his smile was false. That he'd decided he'd done his best to interest her in the food on offer; if she wasn't hungry, she shouldn't have turned up at the restaurant. Satisfied customers usually meant a good tip. She clearly wasn't a good prospect.

Ur right, this world is totally crap!!!

There was a delay of a few seconds, but then Black Star came back on a different tack.

Tell me, b4 u went into the Mandarin, did u c the
elevators to ur right???

Elena thought back to her arrival.

Yes.

Good, remember them. I'll let u finish yor meal
now. Will come back 2 u when u r at the hotel. I need 2 give u tomorrows shopping
list!!!

Rain was falling steadily, making the road surfaces black and shiny in the lamplight, and the bright neon signs seemed to illuminate almost every building, when Danny got out of the taxi on the Central Park side of Columbus Circle.

The cab drew away and he pulled up the collar on his jacket and moved back closer to the edge of the park to escape the light. He had learned to make the best use of shadow. He looked over at the Time Warner Center. The central area was like a wall of glass. Danny's eyes moved upwards as he took in the two towers on either side.

The two massive buildings, all steel and glass, mirrored each other in shape and design as they stretched upwards into the sky.

Danny had no intention of going into the restaurant, or even into the centre itself: that might compromise Elena. All he planned to do was wait until she emerged from the building and then follow her to the hotel, just to ensure she got back safely. There were plenty of yellow cabs cruising around this part of Manhattan. Danny would simply wait until Elena got into hers and then flag down another.

But in the meantime he needed to find a good vantage spot to watch for Elena as well as somewhere to shelter from the rain.

He kept his eyes on the entrance to the towers but moved slowly back towards the metre-high stone wall at the edge of the park, where the shadows were darker and the streetlights barely penetrated.

The rain was bouncing off the road and pavement and Danny didn't
hear or see a thing when two arms reached out and grabbed him. One was clamped
across his mouth and the other went round his middle, squeezing all the breath
from his lungs, as he was dragged back over the wall and deep into the darkness.

Somehow, when the head waiter helped Elena on with her jacket and said, 'We hope to see you again very soon,' she didn't quite believe him.

She had hardly been a great advertisement for the chef's undoubted skills, and the long-suffering waiter had looked almost relieved when she asked if he would mind calling her a cab.

The yellow taxi was waiting with its engine running and the rain bouncing off its roof. Elena hurried over and bent down towards the driver's half-open window.

'Hotel Pennsylvania, please. It's on Seventh and Thirty-third Street.'

'I know where hotel is,' said the driver gruffly in a heavy Eastern European accent. 'I drive cab, I know way around this town.'

Elena got into the back of the taxi and pulled the door shut without saying another word. It moved swiftly away, splashing through the kerbside puddles. She shifted into the middle of the back seat and pulled her jacket collar up around her neck, feeling very small and very alone. She would have given anything to have had Danny, even at his most annoying, sitting in the cab with her.

She glanced through the thick Perspex window between her and the driver and noticed the man's dark eyes staring at her from the rear-view mirror.

The loneliness tightened in her chest and a single fat tear rolled down her left cheek. Quickly she looked away, hoping that the driver had not seen.

'Listen . . . miss . . . I'm sorry, very sorry,' said the driver, looking in the mirror again. 'I'm not right to talk to you like that. I'm miserable man.'

Elena almost smiled as she wiped the back of her hand across her face. 'It's OK, it's not your fault. It's been a . . . a bad day.'

The driver nodded. 'You visit New York for first time?'

'Yes.'

'I drive you through Times Square. You must see. Don't worry, no extra charge, it's on the way.'

Too tired to argue, Elena just slumped back on the shabby, ripped seat.

They were soon at Times Square, but then, caught up in traffic, moved across it at a snail's pace. It was ablaze with light from the hundreds of neon signs and giant screens advertising everything from Coke to the latest Broadway shows and movie releases. Elena had been impressed by London's Piccadilly Circus but that was nothing compared to this.

Thousands of people thronged the pavements and streets; cabs and cars jostled for position with two-seater pedal taxis and gleaming white stretch limos. Every tenth car seemed to be a stretch limo in this part of town.

Voices shouted and traffic cops' whistles screamed. A woman stepped off the kerb and almost got run down.

That's what it would be like, Elena thought. One minute alive, the next . . . not. A bang. Pain. And then . . . nothing. All these people, scurrying from one place to another. And what for? If death is the end for all of us, does it matter how it happens?

Elena's driver glanced into the mirror again to see if his customer was looking any brighter. She wasn't; she seemed to be a million miles away, deep in her own thoughts.

'Where you from?'

'England. London.'

'England!' said the driver, lifting both hands from the steering wheel for a moment and returning them with a thump that made the vehicle swerve across to the centre of the road. A horn blared and the cab driver made the single-finger gesture as another car passed his with only centimetres to spare. 'Maybe I should have gone to England instead of come here when I leave Russia.'

'Russia?'

'I live in Moscow. Until I come here with my wife and my two children.'

'Why did you leave?'

The driver laughed. 'For better life. Ha! It is joke. In Russia I have good job as engineer in factory. Not much money, but no one honest has money in Russia. Russian mafia, they have all the money. So we come here, start again. I'm lucky even to get this job. Live in stinking apartment, work every hour, never see my wife and kids and not enough money to pay even doctor's bills.'

The vehicle cleared Times Square and soon after it pulled up near the Pennsylvania. Elena paid the fare, then, as the driver gave back her change, she pushed it all back into his hands.

'They have saying here in America,' he told her. '"Life is bitch, then you die."' He looked at the tip Elena had given him and smiled. 'You have good holiday, miss.'

Danny was in the back of a hire car cruising past the Pennsylvania as Elena walked into the building. His ribs still ached and his face felt as though there was an imprint of a hand across his mouth.

Mick was not exactly the caring, sharing new-man type; he had not been gentle as he pulled Danny over the wall, and Fran's words had been almost equally bruising once Danny had been bundled away from the surveillance area.

Fran was driving the vehicle and Mick was in the passenger seat; they carried on for a block before taking a left turn. 'You were told!' said Fran to Danny for the third time. 'You were told to stay away and you deliberately disobeyed orders. You could have compromised the operation.'

'Yeah, all right,' said Danny, pissed off with apologizing. 'But I didn't, did I? There was nothing to see.' He thought for a minute. 'I suppose I should have guessed that you two would be part of all this. Why didn't Deveraux tell us?'

The two agents exchanged a look. 'Because you didn't need to know until it was necessary,' said Mick. 'Who d'you think is here to take out the target when we get to him? You? Your little friend? It's our job. Taking care of business.'

Danny said nothing, but the thought struck him that maybe these two were not just here to take out Black Star. Maybe their business would not be concluded until they had also taken out Elena and him too. And what about his granddad? Maybe they had already . . . He pushed the thought from his mind; he didn't even want to go there.

Fran took another left; she was heading towards the rear of the Pennsylvania, and she was still fuming that Danny had risked compromising not only the surveillance, but the whole operation. She pulled the vehicle into the kerb, switched off the engine and turned in her seat to glare into Danny's eyes.

'Your granddad cost me a few busted teeth and Mick three cracked ribs last year. And he was also responsible for the deaths of two of our mates, with
your
assistance. So dropping you because you're fucking things up wouldn't cause me one moment's loss of sleep. You understand?'

Danny swallowed hard and nodded, but Fran hadn't finished.

'Good. So now you've had your horoscope read, you can get out!'

She started up the engine as Danny opened the door and got out. As soon as it was closed again, she shoved the vehicle into gear and roared away.

'Up yours,' said Danny as he headed for the hotel entrance.

Elena was close to exhaustion, but she had still remembered to check out the rubbish bin on the way into the hotel. The small red dot was easy to see, if you knew what you were looking for. It was about five centimetres below the rim of the bin, which was almost overflowing with discarded McDonald's cartons, drinks cans and paper cups.

When she reached the eighth floor, Elena went straight into the dispenser room, slipped some coins into the machine and pressed the button for bottled water. The machine thumped and the bottle thudded into the dispensing bay. Elena reached down and picked it up.

She stood still and listened. The only sounds came from the constant hum of the air conditioning and a slight buzz from the electric lighting.

Quickly she moved to the back of the machine and freed the small canister Danny had left for her. She opened it, pulled out the folded sheet of paper and read the instructions.

Elena sighed. Even Danny's note at the end was just another order. So much to remember all the time. She gave herself a mental shake; too tired to think now. She needed some sleep, then her brain would start working properly again.

She jammed the container into her jacket pocket and ripped the paper into small pieces before shoving them into her mouth, chewing and quickly swallowing. It tasted foul, but she knew that with a few swigs of water it would be over in seconds.

When she reached her room, she let the door slam and then walked over to the window without turning on the lights.

She felt certain that Black Star was watching her, waiting for her to go online to receive her next set of orders.

But Black Star would have to wait – for a few minutes at least.

The New York skyline was ablaze with light; the varying shades of yellow, white and pale blue marking out separate buildings, roads, towers. Maybe a million lights were shining on the city.

But Elena wasn't looking at the lights. Her eyes were fixed on the steady flow of rainwater that streamed down the window just centimetres from her face.

Like tears, a flood of tears, washing everything away.