“I’ve been doing this for a long time, Ari. I know the nature of my enemy, and I know what it means to be loyal.” Gabriel sat down at the table across from Shamron. “I hear Varash met after I came out of Cairo. I suppose their decision is fairly obvious.”

“Khaled was given his trial,” Shamron said, “and Varash delivered its verdict.”

Gabriel had carried out the sentences of such proceedings, but he had never actually been present at one. They were trials of sorts, but they were weighted profoundly in favor of the prosecution and conducted under conditions so secret that the accused did not even know they were taking place. The defendants were granted no lawyers in this courtroom; their fates were decided not by a jury of their peers but of their mortal enemies. Evidence of guilt went unchallenged. Exculpatory evidence was never introduced. There were no transcripts and no means of appeal. Only one sentence was possible, and it was irrevocable.

“Since I’m the investigating officer, would you mind if I offer an opinion about the case?”

“If you must.”

“The case against Khaled is wholly circumstantial, and tenuous at best.”

“The trail of evidence is clear,” Shamron said. “And we started down that trail based on information given to us by a Palestinian source.”

“That’s what concerns me.”

Yaakov joined them at the table. “Mahmoud Arwish has been one of our top assets inside the Palestinian Authority for several years now. Everything he’s told us has been proven correct.”

“But even Arwish isn’t certain the man in that photograph is Khaled. The case is a house of cards. If one of the cards turns out not to be true, then the entire case collapses—and we end up with a dead man on a French street.”

“The one thing we know about Khaled’s appearance is that it was said he bore a striking resemblance to his grandfather,” Shamron said. “I’m the only person in this room who ever saw the sheikh face-to-face, and I saw him under circumstances that are impossible to forget.” Shamron held up the photograph for the others to see. “The man in this photograph could be Sheikh Asad’s twin brother.”

“That still doesn’t prove he’s Khaled. We are talking about killing a man.”

Shamron turned the photograph directly toward Gabriel. “Will you acknowledge that if this man walks into the apartment building at 56 boulevard St-Rémy, he is, in all likelihood, Khaled al-Khalifa?”

“I will acknowledge that.”