Holmes was standing beside me. 'What sort of night?

'Bloody.'

He was watching me steadily in the backwash from the floodlit mission boards. 'Flaying yourself, I assume.'

'Why don't you bugger off?' He meant well, but that wasn't the point. I didn't want to talk about it.

That was an hour ago, and she hasn't shown up.

At the board for Stingray one of the new people was looking edgy, leaning forward over the console. 'Do you think it's a trap?

In a moment: I don't know. Yes, by his tone, he thought it was a trap, but didn't want to say so, didn't want to make it real. The name on the board was Flecke, shadow executive in the field, and in a way I wasn't surprised: he was a world-class womaniser and therefore a target for any kind of honey trap the opposition wanted to set up. He'd been warned more than once about this, and Ferris had refused to work with him on Pagoda in Bangkok, said he could endanger the mission.

'If it's a trap, what are your options? Have you got any support out?' No. The voice coming from the speaker sounded a little tight now. I came here alone.

Holmes left me and went over to the central console and picked up one of the phones, presumably to ask the Chief of Signals to get here. With a new man at the board and Flecke out there in Thailand caught in a trap they'd need Croder to take over.

'Are you under surveillance at the moment?'

I can't tell. This is the market area, with people milling about.

Holmes came back from the phone and looked at me and said, 'Come on, I need a break,' and we went down to the Caff together, because he needed to do this and if I didn't let him he'd be miserable.