“I suspect they’re in the Negev by now. We have a secret prison there for the worst of the worst. It is the equivalent of a galactic black hole. Those who enter are never heard from again. Hanifah and Ahmed will be well taken care of.”

“You’re lying.”

“You’re probably right, Ishaq.”

“When we were negotiating over the phone, you told me you were an American. You told me that my family was going to Egypt to be tortured. Now you tell me they are in Israel. You see my point?”

“Have you attempted to make one?”

“You are not to be trusted—that is my point. But, then, that is not surprising. You are, after all, a Jew.”

“The patricide lectures me about the immorality of deceit.”

“No, Allon, it was you who murdered my father. I saved him.”

“I know my brain is a little fuzzy at the moment, Ishaq, but you’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“My father was once a member of the Sword of Allah, but he turned his back on jihad and lived the life of an apostate in the land of strangers. Then he compounded his offenses by throwing in his lot with you, the Jewish murderer of Palestinian mujahideen. Under the laws of Islam my father was condemned to Hell for his actions. I gave him a martyr’s death. My father is now a shaheed and therefore he is guaranteed a place in Paradise.”

The words had been spoken with such a profound seriousness that Gabriel knew further debate was pointless. It would be like arguing with a man who believed the earth was flat or that American astronauts had never landed on the moon. He felt suddenly like Winston Smith in Room 101 of the Ministry of Love. Freedom is slavery. Two and two make five. Murder of one’s father is divine duty.

“You were good in Denmark,” Gabriel said. “Very professional. You must have been planning that for a long time. I don’t suppose killing your own father was part of the original plan, but you improvised extraordinarily well.”

“Thank you,” Ishaq said earnestly.

“Why weren’t you there for the finale? And why wasn’t I killed along with him?”

Ishaq smiled calmly but made no response. Gabriel answered his own question.

“You and the Sphinx had other plans for me, didn’t you—plans that were laid the moment my picture appeared in the London papers after the kidnapping?”

“Who is this person you refer to as the Sphinx?”

Gabriel ignored him and pushed on. “The Sphinx knew that if the Americans didn’t release Elizabeth, eventually her father would take matters into his own hands. He knew that Robert Halton would offer the only thing he had: money. He also knew that someone would have to deliver the money. He waited for Halton to make the offer, then he seized the opportunity to take his revenge.”