Page 12 of The New Girl

“Not everyone, but more are coming every day.” Dina pointed toward the far end of the square. “There’s a little place called La Brioche right over there. I recommend thepain au chocolat. They’re the best in Israel. Order enough for two.”

Sarah walked to the café. She made a few moments of small talk in fluent French with the woman behind the counter before ordering an assortment of pastries and two coffees, a café crème and an espresso.

“Sit anywhere you like. Someone will bring your order.”

Sarah went outside. Several tables stood along the edge of the square. At one sat Mikhail. He caught Sarah’s eye and nodded toward the man of late middle age sitting alone. He wore a dark gray suit and white dress shirt. His face was long and narrow at the chin, with wide cheekbones and a slender nose that looked as though it had been carved from wood. His dark hair was cropped short and shot with gray at the temples. His eyes were an unnatural shade of green.

Rising, he extended his hand, formally, as though meeting Sarah for the first time. She held it a moment too long. “I’m surprised to see you in a place like this.”

“I go out in public all the time. Besides,” he added with a glance toward Mikhail, “I have him.”

“The man who broke my heart.” She sat down. “Is he the only one?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“How many?”

His green eyes searched the square. “Eight, I believe.”

“A small battalion. Who have you managed to offend this time?”

“I imagine the Iranians are a bit miffed at me. So is my old friend in the Kremlin.”

“I read something in the newspapers about you and the Russians a couple of months ago.”

“Did you?”

“Your name came up during that spy scandal in Washington. They said you were aboard the private plane that took Rebecca Manning from Dulles Airport to London.”

Rebecca Manning was the former MI6 Head of Station in Washington. She now reported for work each morning at Moscow Center, headquarters of the SVR, Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service.

“There was also a suggestion,” Sarah went on, “that you were the one who killed those three Russian agents they found on the C&O Canal in Maryland.”

A waiter appeared with their order. He placed the espresso in front of Gabriel with inordinate care.

“What’s it like to be the most famous man in Israel?” asked Sarah.

“It has its drawbacks.”

“Surely, it isn’t all bad. Who knows? If you play your cards right, you might even be prime minister one day.” She tugged at the sleeve of his suit jacket. “I must say, you look the part. But I think I like the old Gabriel Allon better.”

“Which Gabriel Allon was that?”

“The one who wore blue jeans and a leather jacket.”

“We all have to change.”

“I know. But sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock.”

“Where would you go?”

She thought about it for a moment. “The night we had dinner together in that little place in Copenhagen. We sat outside in the freezing cold. I told you a deep, dark secret I should have kept to myself.”

“I don’t remember it.”

Sarah plucked apain au chocolatfrom the basket. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Gabriel held up a hand.

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