“I understand, sir.”
“Very well. You may proceed.”
With that he looked down and began to read his statement. In the far corner of the room, one man visibly winced. Hercules has come to the United States Senate, the man thought. And he’s brought a quiver full of arrows dipped in gall.
“CONGRATULATIONS, GABRIEL,” said Adrian Carter. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? We gave you the stage, and you put it to good use.”
“The senators needed to know about the true nature of the Saudi regime and its support for global terrorism. The American people need to know how all those petrodollars are being spent.”
“At least you kept Zizi’s name out of it.”
“I have other plans for Zizi.”
“You’d better not. Besides, you need to keep your eye on the ball right now.”
“Eye on the ball? What does this mean?”
“It’s a sports metaphor, Gabriel. Play any sports?”
“I don’t have time for sports.”
“You’re getting more like Shamron with each passing day.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Gabriel said. “Which ball should I be keeping my eye on?”
“Bin Shafiq.” Carter gave Gabriel a sideways glance. “Any sign of him?”
Gabriel shook his head. “You?”
“We may be on to something, actually.”
“Anything you want to tell me about?”
“Not yet.”
Carter drove across Memorial Bridge and turned onto the George Washington Parkway. They rode in silence for a few minutes. Gabriel looked out the window and admired the view of Georgetown on the other side of the river.
“I saw from your travel itinerary that you’re stopping in Rome on your way back to Israel,” Carter said. “Planning to undertake another assignment for the Vatican?”
“I just want to spend some time with Donati. When I left Rome, he still wasn’t conscious.” Gabriel looked at his watch. “Where are you taking me, Adrian?”
“You have a few hours before your flight. There’s a little place out in the Virginia horse country where we can have lunch.”
“How long before we get there?”
“About an hour.”
Gabriel reclined his seat and closed his eyes.
HE WOKE as they entered a small town called The Plains. Carter slowed as he negotiated the tiny central business district; then he crossed a set of old railroad tracks, and once again headed into the countryside. The road was familiar to Gabriel, as was the long gravel drive into which Carter turned two miles later. It ran along the edge of a narrow stream. To the left was a rolling meadow, and at the top of the meadow was a large farmhouse with a tarnished copper roof and a double-decker porch. When Gabriel had last visited the house, the trees had been empty of leaves and the ground covered in snow. Now the dogwoods were in bloom, and the fields were pale green with new spring grass.
A horse came across the pasture toward them at an easy canter, ridden by a woman with golden hair. The swelling in her face had receded, and her features had returned to normal. All except for the smudges of darkness beneath her eyes, thought Gabriel. In Sarah’s eyes there were still traces of the nightmare she had endured at the chalet in Canton Uri. She guided the horse expertly alongside the car and peered down at Gabriel. A smile appeared on her face, and for an instant she looked like the same beautiful woman he had seen walking down Q Street in Washington last autumn. Then the smile faded and with two precise jabs of her boot heel she sent the horse galloping across the meadow toward the house.
“She has good days and bad days,” Carter said as he watched her go. “But I’m sure you understand that.”
“Yes, Adrian, I understand.”
“I’ve always found personal grudges counterproductive in a business like ours, but I’ll never forgive Zizi for what he did to her.”
“Neither will I,” said Gabriel. “And I do hold grudges.”
THEY HAD a quiet lunch together in the cool sunlight on the back porch. Afterward Carter saw to the dishes while Gabriel and Sarah set out for a walk through the shadowed woods. A CIA security agent tried to follow them, but Gabriel took the agent’s sidearm and sent him back to the house. Sarah wore jodhpurs and riding boots and a fleece jacket. Gabriel was still dressed in the dark-gray suit he had worn to the Senate hearing. He carried the agent’s Browning Hi-Power in his right hand.
“Adrian doesn’t seem terribly pleased by your performance before the committee.”
“He isn’t.”
“Someone had to deliver the message about our friends the Saudis. Who better than you? After all, you saved the president’s life.”
“No, Sarah, it was you who saved the president. Maybe someday the country will find out what a debt they owe you.”
“I’m not planning to go public any time soon.”
“What are your plans?”
“Adrian didn’t tell you? I’m joining the Agency. I figured the art world could survive without one more curator.”
“Which side? Operations or Intelligence?”
“Intelligence,” she said. “I’ve had enough fieldwork for a lifetime. Besides, it will never be safe for me out there. Zizi made it very clear to me what happens to people who betray him.”
“He has a long reach. What about your security here in America?”
“They’re giving me a new name and a new identity. I get to pick the name. I was wondering whether you would allow me to use your mother’s name?”
“Irene?” Gabriel smiled. “I’d be honored. She was like you-a remarkably courageous woman. The next time you come to Israel, I’ll let you read about what happened to her during the war.”
Sarah paused to finger the blossom of a dogwood, then they walked on through the trees.
“And what about you, Gabriel? What are your plans?”
“I think you and I might be moving in opposite directions.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say anything more right now.”
She pouted and playfully swatted his arm. “You’re not going to start keeping secrets from me now, are you?”
“Now that you’re working for the intelligence service of another country, I’m afraid our relationship will have to take on certain…” He paused, searching for the right word in English. “Parameters.”
“Please, Gabriel. We share a bond that extends far beyond the rules of engagement governing contact between known operatives of other services.”
“I see you’ve started your training.”
“Little by little,” she said. “It helps to relieve the boredom of living alone on this farm.”
“Are you well, Sarah?”
“The days are all right, but the nights are very hard.”
“They will be for a long time. Working for the Agency will help, though. Do you know where they’re going to put you?”
“The Saudi desk,” she said. “I insisted.”
The woods shook with the rumble of distant thunder. Sarah asked about Julian Isherwood.
“At the moment his situation is very similar to yours.”
“Where have you got him?”
“Sarah.”
“Come on, Gabriel.”
“He’s tucked away in an old house near Land’s End in Cornwall.”
“And the gallery?”
“It’s closed at the moment. Your departure from London caused quite a scandal. The boys at the bar in Green’s restaurant miss you very much.”
“I miss them, too. But I miss your team more.”
“Everyone sends their best.” Gabriel hesitated. “They also asked me to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“We let you down, Sarah. It’s obvious that we were spotted by bin Shafiq or Zizi’s security men.”
“Maybe it was my fault.” She shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter. We all came out alive, and we got eleven of them in that house. And we foiled a plot to assassinate the president. Not bad, Gabriel.”