“I wish we’d pass a similar rule.”

“Can you imagine Shamron without his Turkish cigarettes?” Carter started walking again, trailing a plume of maple-scented smoke behind him like a steam engine. “I suppose we have two options. Option one, we pass along your information about Fawaz to the Dutch police and allow them to bring him in for questioning, with the FBI in close attendance, of course.”

“Option number two?”

“We pick him up for an off-the-record chat, in a place where the usual rules of interrogation don’t apply.”

“You know which option I would vote for.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Carter said. “I think you should go to Amsterdam and personally supervise the operation.”

“Me?” Gabriel shook his head. “I’m afraid my role in this affair is officially over. Besides, it’s not as if the CIA doesn’t have experience in these kinds of operations.”

“We do indeed,” Carter said. “But, unfortunately, we’ve screwed up quite a few of them—under my watch, I’m ashamed to say. The Europeans are no longer willing to turn a blind eye to our extralegal activities on their soil, and our own covert operatives are so afraid of prosecution at home and abroad that they no longer undertake sensitive missions without first consulting a lawyer. Our intrepid director has his finger firmly in the air and has detected that, for the moment, the wind is no longer at our backs. The days when we roamed Europe and the Middle East, breaking laws and limbs as we saw fit, are now over. The doors of the secret prisons are now closed, and we no longer deliver our enemies into the hands of men who dream up novel uses for rubber hoses and cattle prods. We’ve put away our brass knuckles. We’re a club fit for gentlemen from Princeton and Yale again, but that’s as it should be.”

“We like to keep our gentlemen from Princeton and Yale confined to King Saul Boulevard, where they can’t get into trouble.”

Carter walked in silence for a moment with his eyes on the pavement. “We’ve been preparing for something like this to happen for a long time. Our brethren at the FBI have overall responsibility for hostage recovery efforts under a scenario like this. We are gathering intelligence, of course, and liaising with allied services in Europe and the Middle East. We would regard you and your team as a black element of our larger multinational effort. You would, in effect, be a subcontractor of the Agency. It’s unconventional, but, given our past association, I think we can make it work.”

“I would need the approval of the prime minister.” Gabriel hesitated. “And, of course, Shamron would have to sign off on it.”

“I’ll set up a secure link to Jerusalem from my office. I promise no one will listen in.”