He screamed at her in rage for having the indecency of choosing life over death and moved a step closer to fire again. Then the door came crashing inward as though it had been blown away by the concussion of a bomb blast. It slammed against Muhammad’s back and knocked him to the ground. The gun was still in his hand. He rose onto one knee and leveled it at her once more as two men came flashing through the doorway, their faces hidden by balaclavas and night-vision goggles. They shot Muhammad. They kept shooting him until they had no more rounds to fire.

THEY CUT AWAY the handcuffs and the shackles and spirited her past the tattered bodies of the dead. Outside she climbed childlike into Gabriel’s arms. He bore her across the snowy clearing and down the track to the road, where Lavon and Moshe were waiting with the cars. The silence of the forest was shattered by her wailing.

“I had to tell them things.”

“I know.”

“They hit me. They told me they were going to kill me.”

“I know, Sarah. I saw the room.”

“They know about you, Gabriel. I tried to—”

“It’s all right, Sarah. It’s our fault. We let you down.”

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, Sarah. Don’t.”

“I saw him again.”

“Who?”

“Bin Shafiq.”

“Where was he?”

“In Zurich. He’s not finished, Gabriel.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s going to hit the Vatican again.”

36. Zug, Switzerland

Zug, Switzerland

TWO OF NAVOT’S WATCHERS managed to make it south over the Italian border before the weather closed the mountain passes. The other two went east into Austria. Navot himself joined with Moshe and went to Paris to throw a security net around Hannah Weinberg. Gabriel took Sarah to the private airstrip outside Zug. They sat like lovers as he drove, Gabriel with his arm around her shoulder, Sarah with her wet face pressed against the side of his neck. It was 4:30 when the plane rose into the clouds and disappeared. Carter and Gabriel were not on it.

“All right, Gabriel, I’m listening.”

“Sarah saw bin Shafiq in Zurich. He told her he was going to hit the Vatican again.”

Carter swore softly beneath his breath.

“Your president is in Rome today, is he not?”

“He is indeed.”

“What time is he due at the Vatican?”

“High noon.”

Gabriel looked at his wristwatch.

“There’s a shuttle between Zurich and Rome that leaves on the hour. If we hurry, we can be on the seven-o’clock plane.”

“Drive,” said Carter.

Gabriel started the car and headed for Zurich. Carter called CIA Headquarters and asked to be connected to the chief of the U.S. Secret Service.