ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE: 2:17 P.M., SATURDAY

So whose bright idea was this anyway?” asked Sarah Bancroft. “Yours or Adrian’s?”

Gabriel looked at the woman seated opposite him in the passenger cabin of the CIA Gulfstream V. She had shoulder-length blond hair, skin the color of alabaster, and eyes like a cloudless summer sky. Dressed as she was now, in a cashmere pullover, trim faded jeans, and shapely leather boots, she was dangerously attractive.

“It was definitely Adrian’s.”

“You, of course, balked at the suggestion.”

“Absolutely.”

“Why did you cave?”

“It was either a knuckle dragger from the Clandestine Service or you. Naturally I chose you.”

“It’s good to know one is wanted.”

“I didn’t want anyone. Adrian insisted we include someone from the Agency and you seemed like the least harmful option. After all, we trained you. You know some of our personnel and you know how we operate. You know the difference between a bodel and a neviot officer. You speak our language.” He frowned. “Well, almost. I suppose the fact you don’t speak Hebrew is an advantage. It means we can still talk about you behind your back.”

“I can only imagine the things you all said about me.”

“Rest assured it was all complimentary, Sarah. You were the quickest study any of us had ever seen. But then we always knew you would be. That’s why we chose you in the first place.”

Actually, it was Adrian Carter who had chosen her. You find the painting, Carter had said. I’ll get you the girl. The painting Gabriel had found was a lost masterpiece by van Gogh called Marguerite Gachet at Her Dressing Table, which had vanished after Vincent’s death into the private collection of a Paris lawyer. Carter had managed to find a lost masterpiece of his own, a European-educated, multilingual art historian who was working as a curator at the Phillips Collection museum in Washington, D.C. Gabriel had used her to penetrate the business entourage of a Saudi billionaire terrorist financier named Zizi al-Bakari, and her life had never been the same since.

“You know, Gabriel, if I’m not mistaken, that might well have been the first compliment you ever paid me. During my preparation for the al-Bakari operation you barely said a word to me. You left me in the hands of your instructors and the other members of your team. Why was that?” Greeted by silence, she answered her own question. “Maybe you had to keep your distance. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to send me into Zizi’s camp. Who knows? Maybe you liked me a little too much.”

“My feelings for you were strictly professional, Sarah.”

“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.” She was silent for a moment. “You know, after the operation ended, I missed you all terribly. You were the first real family I ever had.” She hesitated, then added: “I even missed you, Gabriel.”