The English Girl: A Novel

course,” Zhirov said a little too confidently. “We’ve been watching you since the moment you set foot in Russia.”
    “Who’s we ?” asked Gabriel. “Volgatek? The SVR? The FSB? Or shall we just put aside the niceties and call you the KGB, which is exactly what you are.”
    “You’re dead, Allon—you and all your people. You’ll never leave Russia alive.”
    Gabriel’s smile was still firmly in place. “I’ve always found it best not to make hollow threats, Pavel.”
    “I couldn’t agree more.”
    “Then perhaps you should drop the pretense that you knew I was in Moscow, or that you knew Nicholas Avedon was my creation. You would have never made a move against him tonight without FSB backup if you’d known he was my agent.”
    “Who says I didn’t have backup?”
    “I do.”
    “You’re wrong, Allon. But then you have a long history of being wrong. The FSB is just waiting to make sure they’ve identified all the members of your team. You’ve got a few hours at most. Then you’ll be the one sitting in a cell with a broken nose.”
    “Then I suppose we should get started.”
    “On what?”
    “Your confession,” said Gabriel. “You’re going to tell the world how you kidnapped an English girl named Madeline Hart so Volgatek Oil and Gas could gain access to the North Sea.”
    Zhirov feigned surprise. “The English girl? Is that what this is about?”
    Gabriel shook his head slowly, as if disappointed by Zhirov’s response. “Come on, Pavel,” he said. “Surely you can do better than that. You plucked her from the coast road near Calvi a few hours after having lunch with her at Les Palmiers. A Marseilles lowlife named Marcel Lacroix took you to the mainland, where you handed her over to another Marseilles lowlife named René Brossard for safekeeping. Then, after collecting ten million euros in ransom from the British prime minister, you left her in the back of a car on the beach at Audresselles and lit a match.”
    “Not bad, Allon.”
    “Actually, it wasn’t all that difficult. You left plenty of clues to follow. But that was your intention. You wanted Madeline’s kidnapping and murder to appear to be the work of French criminals. But you made one mistake, Pavel. You should have listened when I warned you not to harm her. I told you exactly what would happen if you did. I told you that I would find you. I also told you that I would kill you.”
    “So why haven’t you? Why put your people at risk by kidnapping me and bringing me here?”
    “We didn’t kidnap you, Pavel. We captured you. And we brought you here because, in spite of your current circumstances, this is your lucky day. I’m going to give you something that doesn’t come along often in our business. I’m going to give you a second chance.”
    “What do I have to do for this second chance?”
    “Answer a few questions, tie up a few loose ends.”
    “That’s all?”
    Gabriel nodded.
    “And then?”
    “You’ll be free to go.”
    “Go where?” asked Zhirov seriously.
    “Back to Volgatek. Back to the SVR. Back to the rock you crawled out from under.”
    Zhirov managed a condescending smile. “And what do you think will happen to me when I return to Yasenevo after answering your questions and tying up your loose ends?”
    “I suppose you’ll be given vysshaya mera ,” Gabriel said. “The highest measure of punishment.”
    Zhirov gave a nod of admiration. “You know a great deal about my service,” he said.
    “Not by choice,” replied Gabriel. “And to be perfectly honest with you, Pavel, I couldn’t care less what your service does to you.”
    “You should,” said Zhirov through the same condescending grin. “You see, Allon, what you are offering me is a choice between death and death.”
    “I’m offering you a chance to see one more Russian sunrise, Pavel. And don’t worry,” Gabriel added. “I’ll make sure you have plenty of time in a nice quiet place to think up a good story to tell your masters at the SVR. Something tells me you’ll be all right in the end.”
    “And if I refuse?”
    “Then I’m going to personally put a bullet in the back of your neck for killing Madeline.”
    “I need some time to think.”
    Gabriel reapplied the duct tape to Zhirov’s eyes and mouth.
    “You have five minutes.”
    A s it turned out, ten minutes would elapse before Mikhail, Yaakov, and Oded carried Zhirov from the fallout shelter to the dining room, where they secured him tightly to a heavy