THE INVISIBLE MAN

A surveillance team had been focusing their cameras and listening devices on the Java Bean since February. Officers had been tailing Renu. They had clocked him meeting a few people, often speaking in Tamil. They had seen him hand over cash and memory sticks to others, who would pull up in cars before shooting off again. They even stum- bled across a second DarkMarket user who also frequented the Java Bean. But it was Renu they wanted. They had taken pictures of his screen with a telephoto lens. One of Jameson's colleagues had infil- trated DarkMarket as an ordinary member and so they were able to monitor a lot of JiLsi's postings. In addition, Mularski was feeding them invaluable intelligence. But they did not yet have definitive proof that Renukanth Subramaniam was JiLsi. For that they would need to arrest him.

The various police forces had resolved to move against him in the second week of June. Some measure of agreement had finally been reached between the Secret Service and the FBI – 12th June was D-Day. That plan was then wrecked by the anonymous emails sent to Matrix001. If JiLsi's arrest was botched, then there was a good chance that word would get out through DarkMarket in a matter of minutes, and many years of painstaking preparation would have been in vain.

And then Jameson's worst fears were realised – a couple of days after Matrix's arrest, JiLsi went AWOL. One morning JiLsi had been walking not to the Java Bean, but to the nearby Wembley Park station, heading for the centre of London. As he passed IKEA on the North Circular, London's traffic-clogged inner ring road, he noticed a peculiar- looking man. Or was it a woman? He couldn't decide. Androgynous was perhaps the best description. He continued on his way to Wembley Park. Just as he was walking towards the underpass by the Tube station, he noticed a long-haired man on the bridge above who was watching him and talking on his phone.

After hopping on the Jubilee Line into town, JiLsi changed onto the Piccadilly at Green Park before finally getting out at Leicester Square, but, as so many people do at that station, he used the wrong exit and had to double-back towards the square itself.

His heart froze: Mr Androgyny was right there. And going across Leicester Square, packed with tourists and street artists, Renu almost bumped into Mr Long Hair. There was no doubt about it now – he was under serious surveillance.