CARTER DROVE Gabriel to Dulles Airport and shepherded him through security. They sat together in a special diplomatic lounge and waited for the flight to be called. Carter passed the time by watching the evening news. Gabriel’s attention was focused on the man seated on the opposite side of the lounge: Prince Bashir, the Saudi ambassador to the United States.

“Don’t even think about it, Gabriel.”

“Public confrontations aren’t my style, Adrian.”

“Maybe not, but Bashir rather enjoys them.”

As if on cue the Saudi rose and walked across the lounge. He stood over Gabriel but did not extend his hand. “I hear you made quite a spectacle of yourself on Capitol Hill this morning, Mr. Allon. Jewish lies and propaganda but amusing nonetheless.”

“The testimony was supposed to be secret, Bashir.”

“Nothing happens in this town that I don’t know about. And it’s Prince Bashir.” The ambassador looked at Carter. “Were you responsible for this circus today, Adrian?”

“The senators issued the subpoena, Your Royal Highness. The Agency had nothing to do with it.”

“You should have done something to prevent it.”

“This isn’t Riyadh, Mr. Ambassador.”

Bashir glared at Carter, then returned to his seat.

“I guess I won’t be eligible for the Saudi retirement plan.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” said Carter.

Ten minutes later Gabriel’s flight was called. Carter walked him to his gate.

“Oh, I nearly forgot something. The president called while you were talking to Sarah. He wanted to say thank you. He said he’ll catch you another time.”

“Tell him not to worry about it.”

“He also said he wanted you to move forward on that matter you discussed on the South Lawn.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

“Are you sure the president used those words?”

“Positive,” said Carter. “What did you two talk about that night, anyway?”

“Our conversation was private, Adrian, and it will remain so.”

“Good man,” said Carter.

They shook hands, then Gabriel turned and boarded the plane.

40. Tiberias, Israel

Tiberias, Israel

THE NEXT NIGHT WAS SHABBAT. Gabriel slept until early afternoon, then showered and dressed and drove with Chiara to the Valley of Jezreel. They stopped briefly at Tel Megiddo to collect Eli Lavon, then continued on to the Sea of Galilee. It was nearly sunset by the time they reached the honey-colored limestone villa perched on a ledge overlooking the sea. Shamron greeted them at the front door. His face looked thin and drawn, and he moved with the help of a cane. It was olive wood and very handsome.

“The prime minister gave it to me this morning when I left the rehabilitation center in Jerusalem. I nearly hit him with it. Gilah thinks it makes me look more distinguished.” He showed them inside and looked at Gabriel. “I see you’re wearing my jacket. Now that it’s clear I’m going to live for a very long time, I’d like it back.”