The New Girl (Gabriel Allon #19)(17)

“I doubt that ransom note was written by a jihadist.”

“For now, those are our only suspects.”

“The Iranians, the Qataris, and the ulema? Come now, Khalid. You can do better than that. What about all the relatives you pushed aside to become crown prince? Or the one hundred prominent Saudis and members of the royal family you locked away in the Ritz-Carlton? Please remind me how much you managed to extort from them before letting them leave. The figure slips my mind.”

“It was one hundred billion dollars.”

“And how much of it ended up in your pocket?”

“The money was placed in the treasury.”

“Which is your pocket by another name.”

“L’état, c’est moi,” said Khalid. I am the state.

“But some of the men you fleeced are still very rich. Rich enough to hire a team of professional operatives to kidnap your daughter. They knew they could never get to you, not when you’re surrounded day and night by an army of bodyguards. But Reema was another story.” Greeted by silence, Gabriel asked, “Have I left anyone out?”

“My father’s second wife. She opposed changing the line of succession. I placed her under house arrest.”

“Every Jewish boy’s dream.” The air was suddenly very cold. Gabriel turned up the collar of his suit jacket. “Why did you send Reema to school in Switzerland? Why not England, where you were educated?”

“The United Kingdom was my first choice, I must admit, but the director-general of MI5 couldn’t guarantee Reema’s security. The Swiss were much more accommodating. The headmaster at the school agreed to protect Reema’s identity, and the Swiss security service kept an eye on her from afar.”

“That was very generous of them.”

“Generosity had nothing to do with it. I paid the government a great deal of money to cover the additional costs of Reema’s security. They’re good hoteliers, the Swiss, and discreet. In my experience, it comes naturally to them.”

“And what about the French? Did they know Reema was spending weekends at that ridiculous chateau of yours in the Haute-Savoie?” Gabriel lifted his gaze briefly to the stars. “I can’t remember how much you spent on that place. Almost as much as you paid for that Leonardo.”

Khalid ignored the remark. “I might have mentioned it to the president, but I made no request of the French government for security. Once Reema’s motorcade crossed the border, my bodyguards were responsible for her protection.”

“That was a mistake on your part.”

“In retrospect,” agreed Khalid. “The people who kidnapped my daughter were quite professional. The question is, for whom were they working?”

“You’ve managed to make a lot of enemies in a short period of time.”

“We have that in common, you and I.”

“My enemies are in Moscow and Tehran. Yours are much closer. Which is why I want nothing to do with this. Show the demand note to the French, give them everything you have. They’re good,” said Gabriel. “I should know. Thanks to Saudi ideology and Saudi money, I’ve been forced to work closely with them on a number of counterterrorism operations.”

Khalid smiled. “Feel better?”

“I’m getting there.”

“I can’t change the past, only the future. We can do it together, you and I. We can make history. But only if you can find my daughter.”

Gabriel slowed to a stop and contemplated the tall robed figure standing before him in the starlight. “Who are you, Khalid? Are you the real thing, or was Omar Nawwaf right about you? Are you just another power-mad sheikh who happens to have a good public-relations strategist?”

“I’m as close to the real thing as Saudi Arabia will allow at this time. And if I am forced to renounce my claim to the throne, there will be dire consequences for Israel and the West.”

“That much I believe. As for the rest of it . . .” Gabriel left the thought unfinished. “You’re to say nothing to anyone about my involvement. And that includes the Americans.”

With his expression, Khalid made it clear he did not appreciate diktats from commoners. Exhaling heavily, he made a subtle change to the arrangement of his ghutra. “You surprise me.”

“How so?”

“You’ve agreed to help me. And yet you’ve asked for nothing in return.”

“One day I will,” said Gabriel. “And you will give me what I want.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“That’s because I am.”





12

Jerusalem


Gabriel’s motorcade was waiting on the tarmac at Ben Gurion Airport when the Gulfstream touched down a few minutes after midnight. Sarah accompanied him to Jerusalem. He dropped her at the entrance of the King David Hotel.

“The room is one of ours,” he explained. “Don’t worry, we switched off the cameras and the microphones.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” She smiled. “What are your plans?”

“Against all better judgment, I’m going to undertake a rapid search for the daughter of His Royal Highness Prince Khalid bin Mohammed.”

“Where do you intend to start?”