Moscow Rules

will be extremely well compensated. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Mademoiselle?”
     
     
    “I think so.”
     
     
    “Very good. Now, get into the car, please. And try not to look so frightened. It will only upset the children. And that is the last thing they need at a time like this.”
     
     
    At Moscow’s Sheremetyevo 2 Airport, Chiara was standing at her post at the check-in counter when the status window on the departure board switched from ON TIME to DELAYED. Ten feet away, in the crowded passenger lounge, 187 weary voices groaned in unison. One brave soul, a bearded Orthodox Jew in a dark suit, approached the counter and demanded an explanation. “It’s a minor mechanical problem, ” Chiara explained calmly. “The delay shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.” The man returned to his seat, skeptical he had been told the truth. Chiara turned and looked up at the board: DELAYED . . .
     
     
    Walk away, Gabriel, she thought. Turn around and walk away.
     

 
    60
     
     
    MOSCOW
     
     
    The clouds opened up at the same instant Gabriel’s earpiece crackled with the sound of Uzi Navot’s voice.
     
     
    "We’re history.”
     
     
    "What are you talking about?”
     
     
    “The Old Man just issued the order to abort.”
     
     
    “Tell him I want ten more minutes.”
     
     
    “I’m not telling him anything. I’m following his order.”
     
     
    “You go. I’ll meet you at Sheremetyevo.”
     
     
    “We’re out of here. Now.”
     
     
    “I’m not leaving.”
     
     
    “Get off the radio and into your car.”
     
     
    Gabriel and Peled rose in unison and walked calmly from the park in the driving rain. Peled headed to the Volga; Gabriel, to Bolotnaya Square. Navot and Lavon joined him. Navot was wearing a waxed cap but Lavon was hatless. His wispy hair was soon plastered to his scalp.
     
     
    “Why are we here?” Navot demanded. “Why are we standing in the rain in this godforsaken park when we should be in our cars heading to the airport?”
     
     
    “Because I’m not leaving yet, Uzi.”
     
     
    “Of course you are, Gabriel.” Navot tapped the PDA. “It says right here you are: ’Abort at 5 P.M. Moscow time and board flight at SVO.’ That’s what the message says. I’m quite certain it’s not a suggestion. In fact, I’m sure it is a direct order from the Memuneh himself.”
     
     
    Memuneh was a Hebrew word that meant “the one in charge.” For as long as anyone in the Office could remember, it had been reserved for a single man: Ari Shamron.
     
     
    “You can stand here in the park and shout at me until you’re hoarse, Uzi, but I’m not leaving her behind.”
     
     
    “It’s not your call, Gabriel. You made a promise to Shamron in Paris. If she doesn’t come out of that building within the allotted period of time, you leave.”
     
     
    Gabriel wiped the rain from his tinted glasses. “You’d better get moving, Uzi. The traffic to Sheremetyevo can be terrible this time of night.”
     
     
    Navot seized Gabriel’s upper arm and squeezed it hard enough for Gabriel’s hand to go numb.
     
     
    “What do you intend to do, Uzi? Drag me to the car?”
     
     
    “If I have to.”
     
     
    “That might cause a bit of a spectacle, don’t you think?”
     
     
    “At least it will be brief. And unlike your desire to stay here in Moscow, chances are it won’t be fatal.”
     
     
    “Let go of my arm, Uzi.”
     
     
    “Don’t tell me what to do, Gabriel. I’m the chief of Special Ops, not you. You’re nothing but an independent contractor. Therefore, you report to me. And I am telling you to get into that car and come with us to the airport.”
     
     
    Eli Lavon carefully removed Navot’s hand from Gabriel’s arm. “That’s enough, Uzi. He’s not getting on the plane.”
     
     
    Navot shot Lavon a dark look. “Thanks for the support, Eli. You Wrath of God boys always stick together, don’t you?”
     
     
    “I don’t want him to stay behind any more than you do. I just know better than to waste my breath trying to talk him out of it. He has a hard head.”
     
     
    “He’ll need it.” The rain was now streaming off the brim of Navot’s hat onto his face. “Do you know what’s going to happen if I get on that plane without you? The Old Man will line me up against the wall and use me for target practice.”
     
     
    Gabriel held up his wristwatch so Navot could see it. “Five o’clock, Uzi. Better be running along. And