Portrait of a Spy

into the garden, Lavon noticed her hand resting discreetly on Gabriel’s elbow. She paused once, as if compelled to do so by the gravity of her words, and a second time at the edge of the dormant fountain at the center of the garden. There she sat for several minutes, trailing her hand, childlike, across the surface of the water, as the last light retreated from the sky. After that, they were largely lost to Lavon. He saw Gabriel place his hand briefly along Nadia’s cheek, then nothing more until they came walking up the footpath toward the house again with Nadia clinging to Gabriel’s elbow for support.
    Upon their return to the drawing room, Gabriel summoned the rest of the team, and the party resumed. At Gabriel’s insistence, they spoke of anything but their shared past and their uncertain future. For now, there was no global war on terror, no new network that needed dismantling, no cause for concern whatsoever. There was only good wine, good conversation, and a group of good friends who were not really friends at all. Nadia, like Gabriel, remained largely a passive observer of the feigned bonhomie. Still posed for her portrait, her eyes moved slowly from face to face, as though they were pieces of a puzzle she was trying to assemble in her mind. Occasionally, her gaze would settle on Gabriel’s hands. He made no attempt to conceal them, for there was now nothing left to hide. It was clear to Lavon and the rest of the team that Gabriel no longer harbored any doubts about Nadia’s intentions. Like lovers, they had consecrated their bond with the sharing of secrets.
    It was a few minutes after seven when Gabriel gave the signal that the party was at an end. Rising to her feet, Nadia seemed suddenly light-headed. She bade them all good night; then, with Zoe at her side, she headed across the darkened forecourt to her car where Rafiq al-Kamal, guardian of her father, was waiting to reclaim her. During the drive back to Paris, she once again spoke without pause, this time about her new friends, Thomas and Jenny Fowler. Gabriel monitored the conversation by way of Zoe’s BlackBerry. The next morning, he watched the winking icon as it moved from the Place de la Concorde to Charles de Gaulle Airport. While waiting for her flight, Zoe phoned her producer in New York to say that, at least for now, the al-Bakari exclusive was off. Then, in a sultry whisper, she said to Gabriel, “Time to say good-bye, darling. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else.” Gabriel waited until Zoe was safely on board the aircraft before disabling the software on her phone. The light flashed three more times. Then she vanished from the screen.

Chapter 33
Seraincourt, France

    T HE OPERATION BEGAN IN EARNEST at 10:15 the following morning, when Nadia al-Bakari, heiress, activist, and agent of Israeli intelligence, informed her senior staff that she intended to form a partnership with Thomas Fowler Associates, a small but highly successful private equity firm based in London. That afternoon, accompanied only by her security detail, she traveled by car to Mr. Fowler’s private home north of Paris for the first round of direct negotiations. Later, she would characterize the talks as productive and intense, both of which happened to be true.
    She came the next day, and the day after as well. For reasons Gabriel did not share with the others, he dispensed with much of the usual training and focused mainly on Nadia’s cover story. Learning it was not difficult, for it corresponded largely to the facts. “It’s your story,” said Gabriel, “with only the slightest reordering of the salient details. It’s a story of murder, vengeance, and hatred as old as the Middle East. From now on, Nadia al-Bakari is no longer part of the solution. Nadia is just like her father. She’s part of the problem. She’s the reason why the Arabs will never be able to escape their history.”
    Yossi assisted Nadia on superficial performance issues, but for the most part, she relied on Sarah for guidance. Gabriel was initially apprehensive about the renewal of their friendship, but Lavon saw their bond as an operational asset. Sarah was a timely reminder of Zizi’s evil. And unlike Rena, Nadia’s murdered childhood friend, Sarah had stared the monster in the eye and defeated him. She was Rena without chains, Rena resurrected.
    Nadia proved to be a quick study, but Gabriel had expected nothing less. Her preparation was made easier by the fact