The Defector

gleaming stainless steel boxes, then at Becker. The tinted lenses of his spectacles shone with the reflection of the bright fluorescent lights, rendering his small dark eyes invisible.
    “I’m going to need a favor from you, Konrad. A very big favor.”
    “Since I would like to keep my bank, Herr Allon, how can I help?”
    “Call your security guard and your secretary. Tell them to take the next couple of days off.”
    “I assume you’re going to replace them?”
    “I wouldn’t want to leave you in the lurch, Konrad.”
    “Anyone I know?”
    “The secretary will be new to you. But you may recall the security guard from another life.”
    “Herr Lange, I take it?”
    “You do have a good memory, Konrad.”
    “That’s true. But then a man like Oskar Lange is not so easy to forget.”

51
    ZURICH
    GABRIEL LEFT the bank shortly after eight and walked to a busy café on the Bahnhofstrasse. Seated at a cramped table in the back, surrounded by depressed-looking Swiss moneymen, were Sarah and Uzi Navot. Sarah was drinking coffee; Navot was working his way through a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. The smell of the food turned Gabriel’s stomach as he lowered himself into an empty chair. It was going to be a long time before he felt like eating again.
    “The maids arrived an hour after we left,” Navot murmured in Hebrew. “The bodies have been removed, and they’re giving the entire house a good scrubbing.”
    “Tell them to make sure those bodies never turn up. I don’t want Ivan to know Chernov has been taken out of circulation.”
    “Ivan won’t know a thing. And neither will Petrov.” Navot put a forkful of eggs on his toast and switched from Hebrew to German, which he spoke with a slight Viennese accent. “How’s my old friend Herr Becker?”
    “He sends his best.”
    “Is he willing to help?”
    “ Willing might be too strong a word, but we’re in.”
    In rapid German, Gabriel described the procedures for client access to safe-deposit boxes at Becker & Puhl. The briefing complete, he signaled the waiter and asked for coffee. Then he requested that Navot’s dishes be removed. Navot snatched a last morsel of toast as the plate floated away.
    “Which girl gets the secretary job?”
    “She has to speak English, German, and French. That leaves only one candidate.”
    Navot looked briefly at Sarah. “I’d feel better about getting Langley’s approval before sending her in there.”
    “Carter gave me the authority to use her in whatever capacity I needed. Besides, I used her in an operational role last night in Geneva.”
    “And all she had to do was play the jilted lover for a few seconds. Now you’re talking about placing her in close proximity to a former KGB assassin.”
    Sarah spoke for the first time. “I can handle it, Uzi.”
    “You’re forgetting that Ivan has pictures of you from his house in Saint-Tropez last summer. And it’s possible he’s shown those pictures to his friend Petrov.”
    “I packed a dark wig and fake glasses. When I put them on, I barely recognize myself. And no one else will, either, especially if they’ve never met me in person.”
    Navot was still skeptical. “There is one other thing to consider, Gabriel.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Her weapons training. More to the point, her lack of weapons training.”
    “I trained her. So did the Agency.”
    “No, you gave her very basic training. And the Agency prepared her for a desk job in the Counterterrorism Center. There’s not a lot of gunfire on a typical day at Langley.”
    Sarah spoke up in her own defense. “I can handle a gun, Uzi.”
    “Not like Dina and Rimona. They both served in the army. And if something goes wrong in there . . .”
    “They won’t hesitate?”
    Navot made no response.
    “I won’t hesitate either, Uzi.”
    “You sure about that?”
    “I’m sure.”
    The waiter delivered Gabriel’s coffee. Navot handed him a packet of sugar.
    “I suppose the secretary job is now filled.”
    “It is.”
    “Who do you have in mind for the security guard?”
    “The language requirements are the same: English, French, and German. He also needs a bit of muscle.”
    “That narrows the field considerably: you and me. And since there’s no doubt whatsoever that Petrov knows your face, it means you can’t go anywhere near that bank.”
    “If you don’t—”
    “I’ll do it,” Navot said quickly. “I’ll take care of it.”
    “You’re the strongest person I know,