“None of any consequence.” She smiled. “Are you going to take me to dinner?”

“Actually, I had a better idea. Let’s go back to my flat. I’ll make dinner for us.”

Jacqueline felt a stab of panic. He seemed to sense her unease because he tilted his head and asked, “Is something wrong, Jacqueline?”

“No, nothing,” she said, managing a weak smile. “Dinner at your place sounds wonderful.”

Gabriel crossed the street, a nylon rucksack over his shoulder. Inside were the duplicate telephone and clock radio. He looked up toward the listening post. Karp had switched on the light, a signal meaning it was safe to proceed. They planned to do all their communication with light signals, though Gabriel carried a cell phone in case of an emergency.

He walked up the steps of Yusef’s building and removed the set of duplicate keys from his pocket. He selected the key for the front door, slipped it into the chamber, turned. It stuck. Gabriel swore softly beneath his breath. He jiggled it back and forth, tried again. This time the lock opened.

Once inside he walked across the lobby without hesitation. It was a doctrine that had been pounded into him by Shamron during the Black September operation: hit hard and fast, don’t worry about making a bit of noise, get away quickly. After his first job, the assassination of the Black September chief in Rome, Gabriel was flying to Geneva within an hour of the killing. He hoped this operation would go as smoothly.

He mounted the stairs and climbed quickly toward the second floor. Descending toward him were a group of young Indians: two boys, a pretty girl. As they passed him on the first-floor landing, Gabriel turned his face and pretended to be working the zipper on the rucksack. As the Indians continued down the stairs, he risked a glance over his shoulder. None of them looked back. He waited on the second-floor landing a moment and listened as they crossed the lobby and headed out the front entrance. Then he walked to Yusef’s flat: number 27.

This time the keys worked perfectly on the first try, and within seconds Gabriel was inside the flat. He closed the door and left the lights off. He reached into the rucksack and removed a small flashlight. He switched it on and quickly played the beam around the floor next to the door, looking for a telltale-a scrap of paper or any other innocent-looking small object that would alert Yusef that the flat had been entered. He saw nothing.

He turned and shone the light quickly around the room. He resisted the impulse to search Yusef’s flat. He had watched him from a distance for several days, developed a natural curiosity about the man. Was he neat and orderly, or a slob? What kind of food did he eat? Did he have debts? Did he use drugs? Did he wear strange underwear? Gabriel wanted to search his drawers and read his private papers. He wanted to look at his clothing and his bathroom. He wanted to see anything that might complete the picture-any clue that might help him better understand how Yusef fit into Tariq’s organization. But now was not the time for that kind of search. Too risky, the odds of detection too great.

The beam of the flashlight settled on Yusef’s telephone. Gabriel crossed the room, knelt beside it. He removed the duplicate from the rucksack and quickly compared it with the original. Perfect match. Jacqueline had done her job well. He pulled the wire from Yusef’s phone and exchanged it for the duplicate. The cord connecting the handset to the base on Yusef’s telephone was worn and stretched, the cord on the duplicate brand-new, so Gabriel quickly switched the cords.

He glanced out the window toward the listening post. Karp’s signal light was still burning. It was safe to continue. He shoved Yusef’s phone into the rucksack as he moved from the sitting room into the bedroom.

As he passed the bed, he had a disturbing image of Jacqueline’s naked body writhing in rumpled sheets. He wondered whether his curiosity about Yusef was purely professional. Had it become personal as well? Did he now consider the Palestinian something of a rival?

He realized he had been staring at the empty bed for several seconds. What in the hell has got into you?

He turned around, focused his attention on the clock radio. Before unplugging it, he checked the settings. The alarm was programmed to go off at 8:00 A.M. He turned on the radio: BBC Radio Five, volume low.

He shut off the radio, pulled the power cord out of the wall.

At that instant his cell phone rang.

He stood and looked out the window. The signal light was out.

He had been so unnerved by the image of Jacqueline on the bed that he had forgotten to keep an eye on the listening post. He answered the phone before it could ring a second time.

Karp said, “Get the fuck out of there! We have company.”

Gabriel crossed the room toward the window and looked out.

Jacqueline and Yusef were getting out of a taxi. What happened to dinner?

He turned around. Now he had a serious problem. He had unplugged Yusef’s clock radio. He had to plug it back in and reprogram it before leaving. Otherwise Yusef would suspect someone had been in the flat.

He calculated how long it would take them to come upstairs. A few seconds to open the front entrance… a few more seconds to cross the lobby… about forty-five seconds to climb the stairs and walk down the hallway to the door. He had nearly a minute.

He decided to do it.

He took the duplicate clock radio from the rucksack and plugged it in. The red display lights flashed 12:00… 12:00… 12:00… He almost had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. The future of the operation depended on whether he could set an alarm clock quickly enough to avoid being caught. Ari Shamron had persuaded him to come back and help restore the glory of the Office, but now it was going to be just another fiasco!

He began pressing the hour-setting button. The numbers advanced, but his fingers were trembling from the adrenaline, and he mistakenly set it for nine o’clock instead of eight. Shit! He had to go through the entire twenty-four-hour cycle again. The second time he got it right. He set the current time, then switched on the radio, tuned it to Radio Five, and adjusted the volume.

He had no idea how long it had taken.

He snatched up the rucksack, killed the flashlight, moved from the bedroom to the front door. As he walked he pulled his Beretta from the waistband of his trousers and slipped it into the front pocket of his coat.

He paused at the front door and pressed his ear against it. The corridor was quiet. He had to try to get out. There was noplace in the flat where he could hide and reasonably expect to slip out again. He pulled open the door and stepped into the corridor.

He could hear footfalls in the stairwell.

He placed his hand around the grip of the Beretta and started walking.

In the taxi Jacqueline had forced herself to calm down. Her job had been to keep Yusef away from the flat, but if she had objected to his idea of eating dinner at home, he might have become suspicious. The chances of Gabriel being in the flat the moment they returned were next to nothing. The entire job would take only minutes. The odds were good that he had already planted the bugs and was gone. There was another, more reassuring possibility: Gabriel had expected Yusef to meet her at the gallery at six-thirty and then take her to dinner. Perhaps he hadn’t even entered the flat yet. He would notice that they had returned early, and he would call it off and try another time.

They crossed the lobby, started up the stairs. A man passed them on the second-floor landing: Gabriel, head down, rucksack over his shoulder.

Jacqueline flinched involuntarily. She regained her composure, but not before Yusef noticed that she was rattled. He stopped and watched Gabriel walking down the stairs, then looked at Jacqueline. He took her by the arm and led her to the door. When they entered the flat, he looked around the room quickly, then walked to the window and watched Gabriel walking away through the darkness.