She walks through the hall and into the living room without taking off her shoes or coat.

‘He’s drinking it!’ George says.

Klara reluctantly goes over to the window. She can see the BMW, see the man sitting behind the wheel again.

‘What if you got the dose wrong?’ she says. ‘What if you kill him?’

‘The glass is always half empty with you,’ George mutters. ‘You don’t die from a few roofies. He’ll just get a little fuzzy and disoriented, that’s all. Which means his friends will come and check on him. Focus on him drinking the coffee. This is a fucking triumph!’

*

George has completely abandoned the idea of going to work. They barely speak, just fiddle with their phones. Klara throws a glance over at him on a regular basis, and she can feel him doing the same. Last night and this morning linger in the room like a force field, but neither of them knows how to handle it.

After about forty-five minutes George turns his wrist and looks at his oversized watch. ‘Should have worked by now, I’d think,’ he says, standing up.

‘Okay,’ Klara says. ‘This is what we do: I head out, and if he catches on, I try to get rid of him in the subway or something. Then I meet Karl myself.’

George shakes his head.

‘Not a chance,’ he says. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘I don’t want to have to think about you too, George. Stay here, I’ll call you afterwards.’

‘But what if something happens? You know, if something goes wrong?’

‘If something goes wrong?’ she says. ‘What would you do then? Grab another cup of coffee?’

She walks over to him and strokes his cheek. It’s the first time she’s touched him since they woke up in his bed this morning.

‘This is my problem, George,’ she says. ‘I want to take care of it myself. For Gabriella. Do you have a hat I can borrow? Anything that might change my appearance would be good.’

George roots around in a box in the hall and finds a light-grey hat in thin wool. He pushes it down over her ears.

‘At least be careful,’ he says. ‘Promise me.’

She nods. George’s blue eyes. She can’t look away from them. Slowly she rises up onto her tiptoes and kisses him on the mouth. ‘I promise,’ she says, disappearing through the door towards whoever is following her, towards whoever it is that got Gabriella arrested.

21 November

Beirut/Brussels

The grey van drives slowly through the barriers, approaching where Jacob sits on the back of Bashir’s motorcycle.

‘Please drive!’ Jacob begs, folding up the visor of his helmet. ‘I have to get out of here!’

Bashir turns around and folds down Jacob’s visor. ‘Calm down,’ he says sternly. ‘If we drive away now, we attract their attention. Just sit still and shut up.’