The policeman and the scientist looked at the assassin.

With the gun still in his hand, Sanderson spoke for them both. “That leaves you, sir. Now that we all know the truth of what’s going on … is there any way this can end well for you?”

Slaton pulled the diving hood back off his head, and the cool night air washed over him. It didn’t help—he was drowning under too many variables and intricate angles. He was a Jew as well, and could not deny a desire to help the homeland—in spite of what Israel’s guardians had done to him. But more important was Christine and their child. In a crushing moment, Slaton felt his life in Virginia slipping away. Perhaps he’d been a fool to even imagine a normal existence, but if he let go now he was sure it would be lost forever.

Looking grimly at his odd bedfellows, a Persian-Jew scientist and a Swedish policeman, he said, “All right, gentlemen. Here is how we will do it…”

Chapter 54

FIFTY-FOUR

The sorry state of Nurin’s psyche was certified when he looked down and realized that he was holding a lit cigarette in each hand. Hunched at the control desk in Mossad’s operations center, he discreetly doused one in an ashtray and took a long pull on the other.

There were three large video screens in front of him—one the direct feed from Veron’s Direct Action team, and the other two alternating between commercial news feeds, which had a tendency to loop the most spectacular clips. All showed the Armageddon-like scene that was the western reach of Lake Geneva. There was smoke and fire, and an army of first responders trying to cope with a maritime disaster—not a well-rehearsed scenario, Nurin supposed, for a traditionally neutral Alpine state.

“Still nothing?” Nurin barked.

“No sir,” replied the female communications manager seated to his left. “The DA team is searching on foot now, but no sign of Hamedi.”

“Dammit! Where the hell is he? Send the directive again—if they find him I want absolutely no contact. He is to be turned over to the Swiss authorities.”

“Sir, I’ve already sent that order twice—”

The woman stopped in midsentence, perhaps feeling Nurin’s stare. She began typing.