Monique placed a jeweled hand lightly on Zoe’s arm. “There’s something I need to discuss with you, Zoe. Might we have a brief word in private?”

Zoe hesitated, unsure of what to do, then agreed.

“Wonderful,” said Monique. “Come this way.”

She led Zoe across the ballroom through a pair of towering doors, then down a marble hallway lit by chandeliers. At the end of the hallway was a small, ornate parlor that looked like something Zoe had seen on a tour of Versailles. Monique paused at the doorway and, with a smile, gestured for Zoe to enter. Zoe never saw the hand that immediately clamped over her mouth or the one that ripped the clutch from her grasp. She tried to struggle, but it was useless. She tried to scream but could barely breathe. As the bodyguards carried Zoe from the room, she managed to twist her head around and cast a pleading glance toward Monique. But Monique never saw it. She had already turned and was making her way back to the party.

MARTIN WAS standing at the center of the main reception room, surrounded as usual. Monique went to his side and slipped an arm proprietarily around his waist.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine, darling,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “But if you ever betray me again, I’ll destroy you myself.”

CHAPTER 66

66

MAYFAIR, LONDON

A chapel silence had fallen over the London ops center by the time Gabriel’s last message arrived. Adrian Carter and Graham Seymour, Anglicans both, sat with heads bowed and eyes closed as if in prayer. Shamron and Navot stood shoulder to shoulder, Navot with his wrestler’s arms folded across his chest, Shamron with his cigarette lighter twirling anxiously between his fingertips. Chiara was in the fishbowl, scrolling through the contents of Martin Landesmann’s hard drive.

“Martin wouldn’t dare kill them in the house,” said Carter.

“No,” Shamron agreed. “First he’ll have them driven into the Alps. Then he’ll kill them.”

“Perhaps your team can intercept them on the way out of Villa Elma,” Seymour said.

“May I remind you that there are almost two hundred black luxury automobiles lined up in Martin’s drive, all of which will be departing at roughly the same time? And then, of course, Martin has access to the lake and several very fast boats.” Shamron paused. “Anyone know where we can get a boat on a freezing December night in Geneva?”

“I have friends in the DAP,” Carter said without much conviction. “Friends who’ve occasionally been helpful in our efforts against al-Qaeda.”

“They’re your friends,” Navot said, “not ours. And I can assure you that the DAP would love nothing more than to rub our noses in a very big pile of shit.”