The Fallen Angel

solution to the problem.”
    “Killing me?”
    Massoud nodded. “But first, he wanted to get a sense of how much you knew about his operation. So he threw a dinner party in your honor. Then he tried to kill you as you were walking home.” He shook his head slowly. “Frankly, we weren’t surprised when the attempt on your life failed. The man Carlo sent to do the job might have been good enough to earn a living in Italy, but not in our world.”
    “So you decided to do it yourself.”
    “We looked upon the situation as a unique opportunity to cause a scandal for your service at a time it could least afford one. We also regarded it as a chance to exact some revenge over the damage you did to our nuclear program.”
    “How did you know we would find Girard?”
    “Let’s just say that we had great faith in your ability, though we never imagined you’d have a stolen Greek amphora in your back pocket. That was a masterstroke, Allon.”
    “I can’t tell you how much your approval means to me,” Gabriel said. “But you were about to explain how the two professional assassins you sent to St. Moritz to kill me muffed the job.”
    “We felt it was important that your body be clearly recognizable. If you’d been blown to bits, your service would have been able to deny you were ever there.”
    “How thoughtful of you.”
    The Iranian shrugged off Gabriel’s sarcasm.
    “So you killed one of Hezbollah’s top operatives in order to kill me under circumstances that were embarrassing to our service?”
    Massoud nodded. “Once Hezbollah’s links to Carlo’s smuggling network had been exposed, Girard had outlived his usefulness. He was expendable.”
    “So are you,” Gabriel replied. “We know a big attack is coming, and you’re going to help me stop it. Otherwise, I’m going to do to you what I did to those secret uranium-enrichment plants. I’m going to blow you to bits. And then I’m going to send you home to your masters in Tehran in a box.”
     
     
    He tried to wriggle out of the noose, but then, Gabriel expected nothing less. He denied, he deferred, he deflected, and, finally, he spun several fabrications that he hoped would satisfy his small but attentive audience. With his expression, Gabriel made it plain he had seen such performances before. His demands were clear and unyielding. He wanted verifiable details of the pending attack—the time, the place, the target, the weapons, the members of the action cell. Once the attack had been interdicted, Massoud would be quietly released. But if he refused to provide the information, or if he attempted to run out the clock, Gabriel would destroy him.
    “As your only friend in the world,” said Gabriel, “I would advise you to accept our generous offer. All you have to do is surrender the details of a single attack. In return, you’ll be free to maim and murder to your heart’s content.”
    “Rest assured, you’ll be at the top of my list, Allon.”
    “That’s why I would also advise you to accept a desk job at VEVAK headquarters in Tehran,” Gabriel countered. “Because if you ever set foot outside Iran again, my friends and I are going to hunt you down and kill you.”
    “How can I be sure you won’t kill me in any case?”
    “Because we’re not like you, Massoud. When we enter into an agreement, we mean it. Besides,” Gabriel added, “killing hostages in cold blood has never been our style.”
    Massoud’s gaze traveled over the photographs of his handiwork before settling once again on Gabriel.
    “I have no idea what day it is.”
    “It’s Friday,” answered Gabriel.
    Massoud’s expression darkened. “What time on Friday?”
    “That depends.”
    “Central European.”
    Gabriel woke his BlackBerry and looked at the screen. “Two-twelve a.m.”
    “Good,” Massoud said. “That means there’s still a bit of time.”
    “When is the attack?”
    “Tonight, shortly after sundown.”
    “The Sabbath?”
    Massoud nodded.
    “What’s the target?”
    “A city you know well, Allon. In fact,” the Iranian said, smiling, “we chose it in your honor.”

33
     
    VIENNA
     
    T HERE WAS A SIX-THIRTY A.M. flight from Copenhagen that arrived in Vienna midmorning. After entering Austria on an American passport that he had conveniently forgotten to return to Adrian Carter, Gabriel went to an airport café and read the morning papers for an hour until he spotted Mikhail, Oded, Yaakov, and Eli Lavon crossing the arrivals hall. He followed