“I can’t decide whether you’re a very courageous man or a fool,” she said. “You could have walked away from me in Marseilles. You could have saved yourself.”

“She’s my wife,” he said. “She’ll always be my wife.”

“And you’re willing to die for her?”

“You’re going to die for her, too.”

“At seven o’clock?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you make up this time? Why seven o’clock?”

“You don’t know anything about the man you’re working for, do you? I feel sorry for you, Palestina. You’re a very foolish girl. Your leader has betrayed you, and you’re the one who’ll pay the price.”

She lifted the gun to hit him again, but thought better of it. Gabriel kept his eyes on the road. The door was ajar.

THEY STOPPED FOR GAS south of Chalon. Gabriel filled the tank and paid with cash given to him by the girl. When he was behind the wheel again, she ordered him to park next to the toilets.

“I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

She was gone only a moment. Gabriel slid the car into gear, but the girl removed the satellite phone from her bag and ordered him to wait. It was 2:55 P.M.

“We’re going to Paris,” he said.

“Oh, really?”

“He’ll send us one of two ways. The Autoroute splits at Beaune. If we take that cutoff, we can head straight into the southern suburbs. Or we can stay to the east—Dijon to Troyes, Troyes to Reims—and come in from the northeast.”

“You seem to know everything. Tell me which way he’s going to send us.”

Gabriel made a show of consulting his watch.

“He’ll want to keep us moving, and he won’t want us at the target too early. I’m betting for the eastern route. I say he sends us to Troyes and tells us to wait there for instructions. He’ll have options if he sends us to Troyes.”

Just then the telephone rang. She listened in silence, then severed the connection.

“Get back on the Autoroute,” she said.

“Where are we going?”

“Just drive,” she said.

HE ASKED FOR PERMISSION to turn on the radio.

“Sure,” she said affably.

He pressed the power button, but nothing happened. A slight smile appeared on her lips.

“Nicely played,” said Gabriel.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Surely you’re joking.”

“Actually, I’m quite serious.”

“I’m Palestina,” she said. “I have no choice.”

“You’re wrong. You do have a choice.”

“I know what you’re doing,” she said. “You’re trying to wear me down with your suggestions of death and suicide. You think you can make me have a change of heart, that you can make me lose my nerve.”