Prince of Fire

equipment we needed for our journey. We also changed the name.”

“Who chose it?”

“I did,” said Shamron. “It means loyalty and faithfulness-”

“-and a devotion to duty or to one’s obligations or vows,” Gabriel said. “I know what it means. I also know why you chose it-the same reason why you told Shimon Pazner to take me to the ruins of the embassy.”

“I thought it was important that you see it. Sometimes, when one is in the middle of an operation like this, the enemy can become something of an abstraction. It’s easy to forget his true nature. I thought you might need a bit of a reminder.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time, Ari. I know the nature of my enemy, and I know what it means to be loyal.” Gabriel sat down at the table across from Shamron. “I hear Varash met after I came out of Cairo. I suppose their decision is fairly obvious.”

“Khaled was given his trial,” Shamron said, “and Varash delivered its verdict.”

Gabriel had carried out the sentences of such proceedings, but he had never actually been present at one. They were trials of sorts, but they were weighted profoundly in favor of the prosecution and conducted under conditions so secret that the accused did not even know they were taking place. The defendants were granted no lawyers in this courtroom; their fates were decided not by a jury of their peers but of their mortal enemies. Evidence of guilt went unchallenged. Exculpatory evidence was never introduced. There were no transcripts and no means of appeal. Only one sentence was possible, and it was irrevocable.

“Since I’m the investigating officer, would you mind if I offer an opinion about the case?”

“If you must.”

“The case against Khaled is wholly circumstantial, and tenuous at best.”

“The trail of evidence is clear,” Shamron said. “And we started down that trail based on information given to us by a Palestinian source.”

“That’s what concerns me.”

Yaakov joined them at the table. “Mahmoud Arwish has been one of our top assets inside the Palestinian Authority for several years now. Everything he’s told us has been proven correct.”

“But even Arwish isn’t certain the man in that photograph is Khaled. The case is a house of cards. If one of the cards turns out not to be true, then the entire case collapses-and we end up with a dead man on a French street.”

“The one thing we know about Khaled’s appearance is that it was said he bore a striking resemblance to his grandfather,” Shamron said. “I’m the only person in this room who ever saw the sheikh face-to-face, and I saw him under circumstances that are impossible to forget.” Shamron held up the photograph for the others to see. “The man in this photograph could be Sheikh Asad’s twin brother.”

“That still doesn’t prove he’s Khaled. We are talking about killing a man.”

Shamron turned the photograph directly toward Gabriel. “Will you acknowledge that if this man walks into the apartment building at 56 boulevard St-Remy, he is, in all likelihood, Khaled al-Khalifa?”

“I will acknowledge that.”

“So we put the building under watch. And we wait. And we hope he comes before the next massacre. If he does, we get his photograph as he enters the building. If our experts are damned sure he’s the same man, we put him out of business.” Shamron folded his arms across his chest. “Of course, there is one other method of identification-the same one we used during the Wrath of God operation.”

An image flashed in Gabriel’s memory.

“Excuse me, but are you Wadal Zwaiter?”

“No! Please, no!”

“It takes a very cool customer not to respond to his real name in a situation like that,” Shamron said. “And an even cooler one not to reach for his gun when confronted with a man who’s about to kill him. Either way, if it’s truly Khaled, he’ll identify himself, and your mind will be at peace when you pull the trigger.”

Shamron pushed his spectacles onto his forehead. “I want Fidelity in Marseilles by nightfall. Are you going to be on it?”

“WE’LL USE THE Wrath of God model,” Shamron began. “Aleph, Bet, Ayin, Qoph. It has two advantages. It will seem familiar to you and it works.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Out of necessity, we’ve made some minor alterations and combined some of the roles, but once the operation is set in motion, it will feel the same to you. You, of course, are the Aleph, the gunman. The Ayin teams, the watchers, are already moving into place. If Khaled comes to that flat, two of the watchers will switch to the role of Bet and cover your escape route.”

“And Yaakov?”

“You two seem to have established something of a rapport. Yaakov will be your deputy team leader. On the night of the hit, should we be so fortunate, he will be your driver.”

“What about Dina?”

“Qoph,” Shamron said. “Communications. She’ll consult with King Saul Boulevard on the identification of the target. She’ll also serve as Yaakov’s bat leveyha. You’ll remain concealed on the boat until the hit. When Khaled is down, everyone leaves town by separate routes and makes their way out of the country. You and Yaakov will travel to Geneva and fly home from there. Dina will take the boat out of port. Once she’s out in open waters, we’ll put a team aboard and bring it home.”

Shamron spread a map of central Marseilles over the table. “A slip has been reserved for you here”-he tapped the map with his stubby forefinger-“on the east side of the old port, along the Quai de Rive-Neuve. The boulevard St-Remy is here”-another tap-“six streets to the east. It runs from the Place de la Prefecture, south to the Jardin Pierre Puget.”

Shamron placed a satellite photograph of the street atop the map.

“It is, quite frankly, a perfect street for us to operate. Number 56 is located here, on the east side of the street. It has only one entrance, which means that we won’t miss Khaled if he comes. As you can see from the photograph, the street is busy-lots of traffic, people on the sidewalks, shops and offices. The entrance to Number 56 is visible from this large esplanade in front of the Palais de Justice. The park is home to a colony of derelicts. We’ve got a pair of watchers there now.”

Shamron adjusted the angle of the photograph.

“But here’s the best feature, the payage parking lot in the median. This space here is now occupied by a car rented by one of the watchers. We have five other cars. At this moment they’re all being fitted with miniature high-resolution cameras. The cameras transmit their images by scrambled wireless signal. You have the only decoder.”

Shamron nodded at Yaakov, who pressed a button. A large plasma-screen television rose slowly from the entertainment console.

“You’ll keep watch on the entrance from here,” Shamron said. “The watchers will rotate the cars at irregular intervals in case Khaled or one of his men keeps an eye on the payage. They’ve worked out the timing, so that when one car leaves, the next can pull into the same space.”

“Ingenious,” Gabriel murmured.

“Actually, it was Yaakov’s suggestion. He’s done this sort of thing in places where it’s much more difficult to conceal the surveillance teams.” Shamron lit a cigarette. “Show him the computer program.”

Yaakov sat down in front of a laptop computer and typed in a command. A virtual animation of the boulevard St-Remy and the surrounding streets appeared on the screen.

“Because they know your face, you can’t leave the boat until the night of the hit. That means you can’t familiarize yourself with the neighborhood. But at least you can do it here. Technical created this so you can walk the boulevard St-Remy from right here in the salon of Fidelity.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Granted,” said Shamron, “but it will have to suffice.” He lapsed into a contemplative silence. “So what happens when you see an Arab man, mid-thirties, entering the apartment house at Number 56?” He allowed the question to hang on the air for a moment, then answered it himself. “You and Dina will make a determination whether it could be him. If you make such a determination, you’ll send a flash to King