Though her role in Geneva was to be largely one of entrée, Zoe had to be prepared for the worst possible outcome. As a result, her rapid training focused largely on learning a tragic story. It was the story of a handsome Russian named Mikhail Danilov who had swept her off her feet. A man who had preyed on her vulnerability and deceived her into inviting him to Martin Landesmann’s gala. This story, Gabriel reminded her at every turn, would be Zoe’s only protection in the event the operation went badly. Thus the stroll along New Bond Street, the outing to Covent Garden, and the time-consuming afternoon film in Leicester Square. “Store every sordid detail in that formidable memory of yours,” Gabriel said. “Learn it as though you reported it and wrote it yourself.”

Unlike most crash preparations, the information did not flow just one way during those final sessions in Highgate. In fact, in a curious reversal of roles, Zoe was able to contribute significantly to the planning since she was the only one among those present to have ever set foot in Martin’s enchanted lakeside residence. It was Zoe who described the entry protocol at Martin’s front gate on the rue de Lausanne and Zoe who briefed the team on the probable disposition of Martin’s security guards inside the mansion. Shamron was so impressed by her presentation that he told Navot to consider putting her on the Office payroll permanently.

“Something tells me our British partners might not appreciate that,” Navot replied.

“Partnerships between intelligence services are like marriages based on physical attraction, Uzi. They burn brightly for a time and almost always end badly.”

“I didn’t realize you were a relationship counselor, boss.”

“I’m a spy, Uzi. The mysteries of the human heart are my business.”

The presence of so many powerful personalities in so confined a space might well have been a recipe for disaster. But for the most part, the atmosphere during those three intense days of preparation remained civil, at least when Zoe was present. Gabriel retained control over operational planning, but Navot took the Office’s seat at the interagency meetings in Thames House. In many respects, it was a coming-out party for Navot, and those who witnessed his conduct during the gatherings came away impressed by his seriousness of purpose and his command of the issues. All agreed that the Office looked to be in good hands for years to come—unless, of course, Navot’s promising career were to be derailed by a disaster on the shores of Lake Geneva.