Daniel Silva - The Kill Artist

“I still don’t know what you want from me, Yusef.”

“The passport control officers of all Western countries use what’s known as profiling to single out travelers for closer scrutiny. Unfortunately, because of ”Arab terrorism,“ Arab men traveling alone are subject to the harshest scrutiny of all. Therefore, this man prefers to travel under a Western passport and with another person-a woman.”

“Why a woman?”

“Because a man and women traveling together are less suspicious than two men. This man needs a traveling companion, a partner, if you will. I’d like you to go with him on this trip.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. The meeting this man needs to attend could change the course of history in the Middle East and for the Palestinian people. It is vital that he arrive at his destination and be allowed to attend this meeting and represent the views of a great number of Palestinians.”

“Why me?”

“For one reason, your appearance. You are a very attractive, very distracting woman. But also because of your passport. This man-and I’m sorry, Dominique, but I’m not allowed to tell you his name-prefers to travel on a French passport. You will be posing as lovers, a successful businessman and his younger girlfriend.”

“Posing as lovers?”

“Yes, just posing as lovers. Nothing more, I assure you. This Palestinian leader has nothing on his mind except the welfare and the future of the Palestinian people.”

“I’m a secretary in an art gallery, Yusef. I don’t do things like this. Besides, why should I stick my neck out for you and the Palestinian people? Find a Palestinian woman to do it.”

“We would use a Palestinian woman if we could. Unfortunately a European woman is required.”

“We, Yusef? What do you mean by we? I thought you were a student. I thought you were a waiter, for God’s sake. When did we become involved with a man who has to travel under an assumed name to a meeting that will change the course of history in the Middle East? So much for complete honesty, eh, Yusef?”

“I’ve made no secret of my political beliefs. I’ve made no secret of my opposition to the peace process.”

“Yes, but you did make a secret of the fact you were involved with people like this. What is he, Yusef? Is he some kind of terrorist?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dominique! The people I’m involved with would never commit an act of violence, and they condemn any group that does. Besides, do I really strike you as some sort of terrorist?”

“So where is he going? How would it work?”

“Are you saying you’ll do it?”

“I’m asking you where your friend is going and how it would work-nothing more.”

“I can’t tell you where he’s going.”

“Oh, Yusef, please. This is-”

“I can’t tell you where he’s going because even I don’t know. But I can tell you how it would work.”

“I’m listening.”

“You’ll fly to Paris -to Charles de Gaulle Airport. You’ll meet the Palestinian leader in the terminal. Only he and a few of his closest aides know where he’s going. You’ll accompany him to the gate and board the airplane. The destination may be the site of the meeting, or you may have to take another flight-or a train, or a ferry, or drive. I don’t know. When the meeting is over, you’ll return to Paris and go your separate ways. You’ll never see him again, and you’ll never mention this to another person.”

“And what if he’s arrested? What happens to me?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ll be traveling on your own passport. You’ll say that this man invited you to come on a trip with him and that you accepted. Very simple, no problems.”

“How long?”

“You should plan for a week but expect less.”

“I can’t just leave the gallery for a week. I’m not due any time off, and Isherwood will fall to pieces.”

“Tell Mr. Isherwood that you have a family emergency in Paris. Tell him it’s unavoidable.”

“What if he decides to fire me?”

“He won’t fire you. And if it’s money you’re concerned about, we can arrange something for you.”

“I don’t want money, Yusef. If I do it, it will be because you asked me to do it. I’ll do it because I’m in love with you, even though I don’t quite believe you’re really the person you appear to be.”

“I’m just a man who loves his country and his people, Dominique.”

“I need to think about it.”

“Of course you need to think about it. But while you’re making your decision it is critical that you not discuss this with anyone.”

“I understand, I suppose. When do you need an answer?”

“Tomorrow night.”

When the tape ended Shamron looked up.

“Why so glum, Gabriel? Why aren’t you jumping for joy?”

“Because it sounds too good to be true.”

“You’re not going to start this again, are you, Gabriel? If they thought she was working for us she’d already be dead, and Yusef would be going to ground.”

“That’s not the way Tariq plays the game.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Maybe he wants more than a low-level agent like Jacqueline. You remember the way he killed Ben-Eliezer in Madrid. He set a trap, baited it, lured him there. He left nothing to chance. Then he shot him in the face and walked out as if nothing had happened. He beat us at our own game, and Ben-Eliezer paid the price.”

“He beat me. That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it, Gabriel? If I had been more cautious, I would never have let Ben-Eliezer walk into that café in the first place.”

“I wasn’t blaming you.”

“If not me, then who, Gabriel? I was the head of operations. It happened on my watch. Ultimately, his death is my responsibility. But what would you have me do now? Run and hide, because Tariq has beaten me before? Fold up my tent and go home? No, Gabriel.”

“Take Yusef. Walk away.”

“I don’t want Yusef! I want Tariq!” Shamron slammed his thick fist against the arm of the chair. “It makes perfect sense. Tariq likes to use legitimate women for cover. He always has. In Paris it was the young American girl. In Amsterdam it was the whore who liked heroin. He even used one-”

Shamron stopped himself, but Gabriel knew what he was thinking. Tariq had used a woman in Vienna, a pretty Austrian shopgirl who was found in the Danube the night of the bombing with half her throat missing.

“Let’s assume you’re right, Gabriel. Let’s assume Tariq suspects Jacqueline is working for the Office. Let’s assume he’s setting a trap for us to walk into. Even if that is the case, we’ll still have the upper hand. We decide when to force the action. We pick the time and place, not Tariq.”

“With Jacqueline’s life hanging in the balance. I’m not prepared to take that chance. I don’t want her to end up like all the others.”

“She won’t. She’s a professional, and we’ll be with her every step of the way.”

“Two weeks ago she was working as a model. She hasn’t been in the field in years. She may be a professional, but she’s not prepared for something like this.”

“Allow me to let you in on a little secret, Gabriel. No one is ever completely prepared for something like this. But Jacqueline can look after herself.”

“I don’t like their ground rules either. We’re supposed to let her go to Charles de Gaulle and get on a plane, but we don’t know where the plane is going. We’ll be playing catch-up from the moment the game begins.”

“We’ll know where they’re going the moment they go to the gate, and we’ll be watching them the moment they step off the plane at the other end. She won’t be out of our sight for a minute.”