The Black Widow (Gabriel Allon #16) - Daniel Silva Page 0,146
don’t do suicide missions, Gabriel had said after her return from the caliphate. We don’t trade our lives for theirs. She placed her thumb atop the trigger switch and, testing the resistance, pressed it lightly. Saladin, watching her, smiled.
“You are very brave, Maimonides,” he said to her in Arabic. “But then I always knew that.”
He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Natalie, fearing he was reaching for a gun, pressed harder on the switch. But it was not a gun, it was a phone. He tapped the screen a few times, and the device emitted a sharp hissing sound. Natalie realized after a few seconds that the sound was water rushing into a basin. The first voice she heard was her own.
“Do you know who that woman is?”
“How did she get into the country?”
“On a false passport.”
“Where did she come in?”
“New York.”
“Kennedy or Newark?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did she get down to Washington?”
“The train.”
“What’s the name of the passport?”
“Asma Doumaz.”
“Have you been given a target?”
“No. But she’s been given hers. It’s a suicide operation.”
“Do you know her target?”
“No.”
“Have you met any other members of the attack cells?”
“No.”
“Where’s your phone?”
“She took it from me. Don’t try to send me any messages.”
“Get out of here.”
Saladin, with a tap on the screen, silenced the recording. Then he regarded Natalie for several unbearable seconds. There was no reproach or anger in his expression. It was the gaze of a professional.
“Who do you work for?” he asked at last, again addressing her in Arabic.
“I work for you.” She did not know from what reservoir of pointless courage she drew this response, but it seemed to amuse Saladin. “You are very brave, Maimonides,” he said again. “Too brave for your own good.”
She noticed for the first time that there was a television in the room. It was tuned to CNN. Three hundred invited guests in evening gowns and tuxedos were streaming from the White House East Room under Secret Service escort.
“A night to remember, don’t you think? All the attacks were successful except for one. The target was a French restaurant where many prominent Washingtonians are known to eat. For some reason, the operative chose not to carry out her assignment. Instead, she climbed into a car driven by a woman she believed to be an agent of the FBI.”
He paused to allow Natalie a response, but she remained silent.
“Her treachery posed no threat to the operation,” he continued. “In fact, it proved quite valuable because it allowed us to distract the Americans during the critical final days of the operation. The end game,” he added ominously. “You and Safia were a feint, a deception. I am a soldier of Allah, but a great admirer of Winston Churchill. And it was Churchill who said that in wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.”
He had addressed these remarks to the television screen. Now he turned once more toward Natalie.
“But there was one question we were never able to answer satisfactorily,” he continued. “Whom, exactly, were you working for? Abu Ahmed assumed you were an American, but it didn’t feel like an American operation to me. Quite honestly, I assumed you were British, because as we all know, the British are the very best when it comes to running live agents. But that also turned out not to be the case. You weren’t working for the Americans or the British. You were working for someone else. And tonight you finally told me his name.”
Again, he tapped the screen of his mobile phone, and again Natalie heard a sound like water running into a basin. But it wasn’t water, it was the drone of a car fleeing the chaos of Washington. This time, the only voice she heard was her own. She was speaking Hebrew, and her voice was heavy with sedative.
“Gabriel . . . Please help me . . . I don’t want to die . . .”
Saladin silenced the phone and returned it to the breast pocket of his magnificent suit jacket. Case closed, thought Natalie. Still, there was no anger in his expression, only pity.
“You were a fool to come to the caliphate.”
“No,” said Natalie, “I was a fool to save your life.”
“Why did you?”
“Because you would have died if I hadn’t.”
“And now,” said Saladin, “it is you who will die. The question is, will you die alone, or will you press your detonator and take me with you? I’m wagering you don’t have the