Chapters (71)
- PART O NE DEATH OF A PROPHET
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- PART T WO THE LAND OF STRANGERS
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- PART T HREE THE SACRIFICE OF ISAAC
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- PART F OUR THE BRIDGE OVER JAHANNAM
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- PART F IVE A WEDDING BY THE LAKE
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- A UTHOR’S N OTE
- A CKNOWLEDGMENTS
“I almost got you killed.”
“Oh, that.” She looked down and made a church steeple of her ringless fingers. “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. It was a beautiful operation. I’ll let you in on a little secret. The Agency isn’t as good as the Office. Our operations are like bricks and mortar. Yours are like…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Like art,” she said. “They’re like one of your grandfather’s paintings.”
“My grandfather was a German Expressionist,” Gabriel said. “Some of his paintings were rather chaotic and violent.”
“And so are your operations.”
Sarah reclined her seat and propped one boot on the armrest of Gabriel’s chair. An image flashed in Gabriel’s memory: Sarah, in a black veil, chained to a torturer’s table in a chalet in the mountains of Switzerland.
“You’re looking at me that way again,” she said.
“Which way is that?”
“The way you used to look at that van Gogh we sold Zizi. You used to look at me and Marguerite Gachet the same way. You’re assessing me. You’re looking for losses and abrasions. You’re wondering whether the canvas can be brought back to life or whether it’s beyond repair.”
“What’s the answer?”
“The canvas is fine, Gabriel. It doesn’t need any work at all. In fact, it’s quite suitable for hanging just as it is.”
“No more nightmares? No more sessions with the Agency psychologists?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” She looked down again, and a shadow seemed to pass over her eyes. “No one at Langley knows what Elizabeth Halton is going through better than I do. Maybe that’s why Adrian chose me for this assignment. He’s a former case officer. He knows how to push buttons.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
She looked up at him as the Gulfstream swept down the runway. “So where are we going?”
“First we’re going to make a brief stop in Tel Aviv to assemble my team. Then we’re going to Amsterdam to have a quiet word with a man who’s going to help us find Elizabeth Halton.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Probably not.”
“Tell me about him,” she said.
Gabriel waited until the plane was airborne. Then he told her everything.