“Have you ever stopped to consider they might be the same thing? After all, this is Switzerland we’re talking about. The DAP exists not only to protect the interests of the Swiss Confederation but of its financial oligarchy as well. And not necessarily in that order.”

“And don’t forget,” Shamron said, “Landesmann owns Zentrum Security, which is filled with former officers of the DAP. That means we can’t go to Martin on bended knee. If we do, he’ll be able to rally the Swiss government to his defense. And we could lose everything we’ve worked for.”

“The centrifuges?” Seymour drew a heavy breath and stared at the row of digital clocks at the front of the ops center. “Let me make something very clear, gentlemen. Her Majesty’s Government has no intention of allowing harm to come to a prominent British subject tonight. Therefore, Her Majesty’s Government will go to the Swiss authorities independently, if necessary, to secure a deal for Zoe’s release.”

“A separate peace? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you my patience has limits.”

“May I remind you, Graham, that you’re not the only one with a citizen at risk? And may I also remind you that by going to the DAP you will be exposing our entire operation against Martin?”

“I’m aware of that, Ari. But I’m afraid my girl trumps your agent. And your operation.”

“I didn’t realize we were the only ones involved in this,” Navot said acidly.

Seymour made no response.

“How long will you give us, Graham?”

“Six a.m. London time, seven a.m. Geneva.”

“That’s not long.”

“I understand,” Seymour said. “But it’s all the time you have.”

Shamron turned to Navot.

“I’m afraid the Geneva team has outlived its usefulness. In fact, at this point they’re our biggest liability.”

“Withdrawal?”

“Immediate.”

“They’re not going to like it.”

“They don’t have a choice.” Shamron pointed at the technicians and analysts crowded around the computers in the fishbowl. “For the moment, our fate is in their hands.”

“And if they can’t find anything by six o’clock?”

“We’ll make a deal.” Shamron crushed out his cigarette. “That’s what we do. That’s what we always do.”

IN THE finest tradition of Office field commands, the message that arrived on Gabriel’s computer twenty seconds later was brief and entirely lacking in ambiguity. It came as no surprise—in fact, Gabriel had already instructed the team to prepare for such an eventuality—but none of that made the decision any easier.

“They want us out.”

“How far out?” asked Eli Lavon.

“France.”

“What are we supposed to do in France? Light candles? Keep our fingers crossed?”

“We’re supposed to not get arrested by the Swiss police.”