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Chapters (71)
  1. PART O NE DEATH OF A PROPHET
  2. Chapter 1
  3. Chapter 2
  4. Chapter 3
  5. Chapter 4
  6. Chapter 5
  7. Chapter 6
  8. Chapter 7
  9. Chapter 8
  10. Chapter 9
  11. Chapter 10
  12. PART T WO THE LAND OF STRANGERS
  13. Chapter 11
  14. Chapter 12
  15. Chapter 13
  16. Chapter 14
  17. Chapter 15
  18. Chapter 16
  19. Chapter 17
  20. Chapter 18
  21. Chapter 19
  22. Chapter 20
  23. Chapter 21
  24. Chapter 22
  25. Chapter 23
  26. Chapter 24
  27. PART T HREE THE SACRIFICE OF ISAAC
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Chapter 36
  40. Chapter 37
  41. Chapter 38
  42. Chapter 39
  43. Chapter 40
  44. Chapter 41
  45. Chapter 42
  46. PART F OUR THE BRIDGE OVER JAHANNAM
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. Chapter 49
  54. Chapter 50
  55. Chapter 51
  56. Chapter 52
  57. Chapter 53
  58. Chapter 54
  59. Chapter 55
  60. Chapter 56
  61. Chapter 57
  62. Chapter 58
  63. Chapter 59
  64. PART F IVE A WEDDING BY THE LAKE
  65. Chapter 60
  66. Chapter 61
  67. Chapter 62
  68. Chapter 63
  69. Chapter 64
  70. A UTHOR’S N OTE
  71. A CKNOWLEDGMENTS

It was shortly after dawn the next morning when they arrived at King Saul Boulevard in Tel Aviv. Gabriel stopped briefly at the Operations Desk to collect Eli Lavon’s first surveillance photographs and watch reports from Amsterdam, then led Sarah along a subterranean corridor to a doorway marked 456C. For many years the room was nothing but a dumping ground for obsolete computers and worn-out office furniture, often used by the night staff as a place for romantic trysts. Now it was known throughout King Saul Boulevard as Gabriel’s Lair. Affixed to the door was a faded paper sign, written in his own stylish Hebrew hand, that read: TEMPORARY COMMITTEE FOR THE STUDY OF TERROR THREATS IN WESTERN EUROPE. The sign had served him well through two tumultuous operations. Gabriel decided to leave it for now.

He opened the combination lock, then switched on the fluorescent lights and stepped inside. The room was precisely as he had left it a year earlier. One wall was covered by surveillance photographs, another by a diagram of a global business empire, and a third by a collection of Impressionist prints. Gabriel’s chalkboard stood forlornly in the corner, its surface bare except for a single name: SARAH BAN-CROFT. She followed him inside tentatively, as though entering a forgotten room from her childhood, and stared at the photographs: Zizi al-Bakari with his spoiled daughter, Nadia, at his side; Abdul and Abdul, his American-educated lawyers; Herr Wehrli, his Swiss banker; Mr. bin Talal, his chief of security; Jean-Michel, his French personal trainer and Sarah’s main tormentor. She turned around and looked at Gabriel.

“You planned it all from here?”

He nodded his head slowly. She looked around the room with her eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Somehow I expected something more…” Her voice trailed off, then she added: “Something more impressive.”

“This is the Office, Sarah, not Langley. We like to do things the old-fashioned way.”

“Obviously.” She looked at his chalkboard. “I haven’t seen one of those since I was in grade school.”