“You have one chance to tell the truth, Zoe. Otherwise, Mr. Danilov is going to die. And if he dies, you die. Because we can’t have witnesses lying around, can we? Confess your sins, Zoe. Tell me the truth.”

Mikhail was wincing with pain. But this time he didn’t try to hide his message to Zoe. He was shaking his head violently from side to side, shouting something into the duct tape covering his mouth. This earned him two more blows with the butt of the gun. Zoe closed her eyes.

“Last chance, Zoe.”

“Put the gun down.”

“Only if you tell me the truth.”

“Put the gun down.” She opened her eyes. “Put it down, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Tell me now.”

“Stop, damn it. You’re hurting him.”

“I’m going to do much worse if you don’t start talking. Tell me the truth, Zoe. Tell me you’re a spy.”

“I’m not a spy.”

“So why did you help them?”

“Because they asked me to.”

“Who did?”

“British intelligence.”

“Who else?”

“Israeli intelligence.”

“Who’s in charge of the operation?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who’s in charge, Zoe?”

“I don’t know his real name.”

“You’re lying, Zoe. Tell me his name.”

“His name is Gabriel.”

“Gabriel Allon?”

“Yes, Gabriel Allon.”

“Was he in Geneva tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Answer me, Zoe. Was he in Geneva tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Were there others?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me their names, Zoe. All of them.”

CHAPTER 72

72

MAYFAIR, LONDON

The digital clock at the front of the London ops center read 05:53:17. Less than seven minutes remaining until Graham Seymour’s deadline. Shamron stared at the numbers despondently as if trying to mentally blunt their advance. It was odd, he thought, but in his youth time had always seemed to slow to a crawl at moments like these. Now the clock was roaring along at a gallop. He wondered whether it was yet another consequence of growing old. Time was his most implacable foe.

Regrettably, Shamron had lived through many such Office catastrophes and knew how the next few hours were likely to unfold. Once upon a time, the Europeans might have been expected to turn a blind eye. But no more. These days, they no longer had much use for the enterprise known as the State of Israel, and Shamron knew full well that the operation against Martin Landesmann was not going to go over well in the halls of European power. Yes, the British and Americans had been along for the ride, but none of that would matter when the arrest warrants were issued. Not one would bear an American or British name. Only Israeli names. Yossi Gavish, Dina Sarid, Yaakov Rossman, Rimona Stern, Gabriel Allon…They had carried out some of the greatest operations in the history of the Office. But not tonight. Tonight, Saint Martin had beaten them.