The car was an S-Class Mercedes, Hamburg registration, black as a hearse. It appeared at the top of the street as Reza Nazari was rising to his feet and slid sedately past the darkened shops before stopping outside Die Bank. A valet approached, but the man in the front passenger seat waved him away. The driver was clinging to the wheel with both hands as though he had a gun to his head, and in the backseat a man held a mobile phone tensely to his ear. From the esplanade across the street, Keller could see him clearly. Wide cheekbones, fair hair thinning on top. A Moscow Center hood, if ever there was one.

“It’s him,” said Keller into the microphone of his secure radio. “Tell Reza to stay inside the restaurant. Let us put him down now and be done with it.”

“No,” snapped Gabriel.

“Why not?”

“Because I want to know why he changed the plan. And I want Quinn.”

The radio crackled as Gabriel keyed out. Then the door of the restaurant swung open and Reza Nazari stepped into the street. Keller frowned. The best-laid plans, he thought.

Alexei Rozanov was still on the phone when Nazari lowered himself into the backseat. As the car shot forward, he glanced toward the esplanade where the two men sat astride their motorbikes. They made no attempt to follow, at least not one that Nazari could detect. He seized the armrest as the car rounded a corner at speed. Then he looked at Alexei Rozanov as the Russian terminated his phone call.

“What the hell is going on?” asked Nazari.

“I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be sitting in a restaurant in Hamburg.”

“Why not?”

“Because we have a problem, Reza. A very serious problem.”

57

HAMBURG

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, he’s still alive?”

“I mean,” replied Alexei Rozanov pointedly, “that Gabriel Allon is still walking the face of the earth.”

“His death was in the newspapers. The Office confirmed it.”

“The newspapers know nothing. And the Office,” added Rozanov, “was obviously lying.”

“Has your service seen him?”

“No.”

“Heard his voice?”

Rozanov shook his head.

“Then how do you know?”

“Our information comes from a human source. We’ve been told that Allon survived the explosion with only superficial injuries and was taken to an MI6 safe house.”

“Where is he now?”

“Our source doesn’t know.”

“When did you learn about this?”

“A few minutes after my plane landed in Hamburg. Moscow Center advised me to cancel our meeting.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s only one reason why Gabriel Allon would fake his own death.”

“He intends to kill us?”

The Russian was silent.

“You’re not really worried, are you, Alexei?”