The Mark of the Assassin

right now."
    Monica pulled a frown of irritation that made clear she would not be
    swayed by arguments based on emotion. "If you were so concerned about
    your security," she said tonelessly, "you should have requested backup
    from us."
    "I didn't want to go in there with some heavy squad that Awad and his
    team could make a mile away." That was only part of the truth; he wanted
    as few people as possible from London and headquarters involved in the
    operation. He had worked in the field, and he had worked at
    headquarters, and he knew Langley leaked like a sieve. "It sounds as
    though Awad and his team identified your good friend Graham Seymour,"
    Monica said contemptuously. "Why would you assume that?" Michael asked.
    Wheaton fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat and Carter, four thousand
    miles away in Langley, did the same thing. Monica Tyler did not take
    well to questions from staff; even rather senior officers like Michael.
    She had the certainty of conviction that is an unfortunate by-product of
    innocence. "Why else did one of their gunman attempt to kill you? And
    why else would Awad set off a bomb strapped to his body?"
    "You're assuming the gunman was Sword of Gaza. I think that assumption
    is wrong. The shooter made no attempt to spare Awad's life. He tried to
    kill me by killing Awad first. The woman was standing behind me the
    entire time. If they wanted me dead, she could have done it, and I would
    have never known what hit me. And when the shooting started, she went
    after the gunman first, not me."
    "She eventually went after you."
    "Yes, but only after Awad set off the explosion. I believe she assumed
    the gunman was one of ours."
    "Did you see his face?"
    "No, his head was covered by a balaclava."
    Monica leaned over and whispered in Carter's ear. Carter raised his
    hands and moved them about his head and face. Michael realized he was
    explaining to Monica exactly what a balaclava was. Monica paused for a
    moment, studying her hands, then said, "What did Awad say to you before
    the trouble began?"
    Michael went through the details of the conversation in painstaking
    detail. He had been trained to commit large amounts of information to
    memory, and when he worked in the field he had a legendary ability to
    produce nearly verbatim transcripts of meetings with agents. Carter used
    to call him "the human Dictaphone." Michael told them everything Awad
    had said--about Heathrow, about the air strikes, about Hassan Mahmoud's
    expulsion from the group--with one glaring omission. He did not tell
    them about the photographs of Mahmoud's meeting in Cairo with Eric
    Stoltenberg. "Do you believe he was telling the truth?" Monica asked.
    "Yes, I do," Michael said flatly. "I've always been skeptical about the
    Sword of Gaza claim of responsibility. I've made no secret of that.
    But if it wasn't the Sword of Gaza, who was it? And why would they make
    a false-flag claim?"
    And who the hell tried to kill Muhammad Awad and me aboard that ferry
    today? Carter and Monica conferred quietly for a moment. Wheaton glared
    at Michael professorially over his half-moon reading glasses, as though
    Michael had just given the wrong answer to a critical question on an
    oral exam.
    "There's something else we need to discuss with you, Michael," Monica
    said. Then she added gravely, "It's very serious in nature." There was
    something in her boardroom tone that immediately set Michael on edge.
    "Early this morning, an officer from British SIS paid a visit to a
    defector named Ivan Drozdov. It seems Drozdov missed his weekly
    check-in, something he never does, and SIS became worried. The officer
    broke into his cottage and found him dead. Shot to death. SIS and local
    police immediately investigated. Yesterday, Drozdov was seen in a local
    cafe with a man matching your description. SIS would like to know if you
    went to see him yesterday. And, frankly, so would we."
    "You know the answer is yes, because you had me under surveillance from
    the time I left London until I returned to Heathrow."
    "If you were under surveillance, it was not ordered by me or anyone at
    headquarters," Monica shot back. "It wasn't London Station," Wheaton
    said. "What the hell were you doing meeting with Drozdov without our
    authorization or the authorization of SIS?" Monica asked. "And by the
    way, what did you talk to him about?"
    "It was a personal matter," Michael said. In the video monitor he could
    see Adrian Carter looking at the ceiling, blowing air