“WHO WAS the first to interview you? The CIA man or the Jew?”

“The American.”

“What sorts of things did they ask you?”

“We talked in general terms about the war on terrorism.”

“For example?”

“He asked me what I thought should be done with terrorists. Should they be brought to America for trial or killed in the field by men in black?”

“Men in black?”

“That’s what he called them.”

“Meaning special forces? CIA assassins? Navy SEALs?”

“I suppose.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

And so she told him, one small spoonful at a time.

THEY STOOD in a circle along the riverbank while Navot quickly told Gabriel everything he knew.

“Are there more guards on the grounds or just the two at the front gate?”

“I don’t know.”

“How many inside the house?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you see where they took her?”

“No.”

“Has there been any other traffic on the road?”

“It’s a very quiet road.”

“It’s not enough information, Uzi.”

“I did the best I could.”

“I know.”

“As I see it you have only two options, Gabriel. Option number one: carry out another reconnaissance operation. It will take time. It’s not without risk. If they see us coming, the first thing they’ll do is kill Sarah.”

“Option two?”

“Go straight in. I vote for option two. Only God knows what Sarah’s going through in there.”

Gabriel looked down at the snow and deliberated a moment. “We go in now,” he said. “You, Mikhail, Yaakov, and me.”

“Hostage rescue isn’t my thing, Gabriel. I’m an agent-runner.”

“It’s definitely not Eli’s thing, and I want at least four men. Moshe and Eli will stay with the cars. When I send the signal, they’ll come up the road and get us.”

“WHEN DID the Jew come?”

“I can’t remember the precise time.”

“Approximate?”

“I can’t remember. It was about a half hour after I arrived, so that would make it around seven, I suppose.”

“And he called himself Ben?”

“Not right away.”

“He used another name at first?”

“No. He had no name at first.”

“Describe him for me, please.”

“He’s on the small side.”

“Was he thin or fat?”

“Thin.”

“Very thin.”

“He was fit.”

“Hair?”

“Yes.”

“Color?”

“Dark.”

“Long or short.”

“Short.”

“Was any part of his hair gray?”

“No.”

Muhammad calmly laid his pen on his notebook. “You’re lying to me, Sarah. If you lie to me again, our conversation will end and we will go about this by other means. Do you understand me?”

She nodded. “Answer me, Sarah.”

“Yes, I understand you.”

“Good.”

“Now give me a precise description of this Jew who called himself Ben.”

35. Canton Uri, Switzerland

Canton Uri, Switzerland

LET’S RETURN TO THE appearance of his hair. You say it was short,

Sarah? Like mine?”

“A little longer.”