“How did she end up in the illegals program?” asked Gabriel.

“In much the same way I did.”

“Her father was KGB?”

“Her mother, actually.”

“And the father?”

“He was a German intelligence officer who’d been targeted for sexual entrapment. Katerina was the offspring of the relationship.”

“Why didn’t the mother have an abortion?”

“She wanted the baby. They took it from her. And then they took her life.”

“And the scar?”

Madeline didn’t answer. Instead, she picked up the photograph again—the photograph of the girl she had known as Katerina standing on a balcony in Lisbon.

“What was she doing there?” she asked. “And why did she leave a bomb on Brompton Road?”

“She was in Lisbon because her controllers knew we were watching the apartment.”

“And the bomb?”

“It was meant for me.”

She looked up sharply. “Why were they trying to kill you?”

Gabriel hesitated, and then said, “Because of you, Madeline.”

A silence fell between them.

“What did you think would happen,” she said finally, “if you killed a KGB officer on Russian soil and then helped me to defect to the West?”

“I thought the Russian president would be angry. But I didn’t think he would set off a bomb on Brompton Road.”

“You underestimate the Russian president.”

“Never,” replied Gabriel. “The Russian president and I have a long history.”

“He’s tried to kill you before?”

“Yes,” said Gabriel. “But this is the first time he’s ever succeeded.”

Her blue-gray eyes flashed over him quizzically. And then she understood.

“When did you die?” she asked.

“Several hours ago, at a British military hospital. I fought hard, but it was no use. My injuries were too severe.”

“Who else knows?”

“My service, of course, and my wife has been quietly notified of my passing.”

“What about Moscow Center?”

“If, as I suspect, they’ve been reading MI6’s mail, they’re already raising glasses of vodka to my demise. But just to make sure, I’m going to make it abundantly clear.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Say nice things about me at my funeral. And take more than one bodyguard when you go walking on the beach.”

“There were two, actually.”

“The fisherman?”

“We’re having roast sea bass for dinner.” She smiled and asked, “What are you going to do with all your free time now that you’re dead?”

“I’m going to find the men who killed me.”

Madeline picked up the photograph of Katerina on the balcony. “What about her?” she asked.

Gabriel was silent for a moment. Then he said, “You never told me about the scar on her arm.”

“It happened during a training exercise.”

“What kind of training?”

“Silent killing.” She looked at Gabriel and added darkly, “The KGB starts early.”

“You?”