Gabriel smiled. “I see you’ve been watching the Sergei Morosov interrogation.”
“With great interest. I especially enjoyed the part about the British defector who worked with Lenin’s doppelgänger to plant a mole in the heart of British intelligence.” Shamron lowered his voice. “I don’t suppose any of it is true.”
“All of it, actually.”
“Were you able to find her?”
“The other woman?”
Shamron nodded, and Gabriel nodded in response.
“Where?”
“In the files of Graham Seymour’s father. He worked in Beirut in the early sixties.”
“I remember,” said Shamron. “It must have been interesting reading.”
“Especially the parts about you.”
Shamron reached for his cigarettes but stopped himself. “And the child?”
Gabriel tore a sheet of paper from the notepad on the counter and wrote out Rebecca Manning’s name and position at MI6. Shamron read it gravely.
“It’s the same job as—”
“Yes,” said Gabriel. “The exact same job.”
Shamron returned the note and pushed the Zippo lighter across the tabletop. “Perhaps you should burn that.”
Gabriel went to the basin and touched the corner of the paper to the flame of the lighter.
“And the final act?” asked Shamron. “I suppose it will take place in Washington.”
Gabriel dropped the charred paper into the basin but said nothing.
“And what about the Americans? Have you written them into your script? Oh, no,” Shamron said hastily, answering his own question, “that wouldn’t do, would it? After all, the Americans know nothing about any of this.”
Gabriel opened the tap and carefully washed the ashes down the drain. Then he sat down again and slid the lighter across the table. “Go ahead, Ari. I won’t tell your mole.”
Shamron tore the cellophane from the packet of cigarettes. “I suppose Graham wants proof that she’s actuallyspyingfor the Russians.”
“He does have a point.”
“And he needs you to run the operation for him because he can’t trust anyone in his own service.”
“With some justification,” said Gabriel.
“Unless I’m mistaken, which is almost never the case, you probably made noises about not wanting any part of it. And then you promptly agreed.”
“That sounds familiar, too.”
“Actually, I can’t say I blame you. Burgess, Maclean, Philby, Aldrich Ames... they pale in comparison to this.”
“It’s not why I’m doing it.”
“Of course not. Heaven forbid you should ever take pleasure in any of your achievements. Why spoil your perfect record?” Shamron tapped a cigarette from the packet. “But I digress. You were about to tell me why you’re risking antagonizing Israel’s closest ally by running an unauthorized operation in Washington.”
“Graham has promised to grant me full access to the debriefing once she’s in custody.”
