The Rembrandt Affair

"Are you still hearing audio from Zoe's phone?"

"Loud and clear. Why?"

"Because Martin's just went down."

"Any GPS data?"

"Nothing."

"He probably just switched off his phone."

"Why would he do that?"

"Good question."

"What do we do?"

Gabriel typed four words into his computer and hit SEND. Then he keyed into Mikhail's earpiece.

"It's possible we have a problem."

"What's that?"

Gabriel explained.

"Any advice?"

"Sit tight."

"And if several men come through the door?"

"Pull the USB immediately."

"And do what with it?"

Gabriel clipped out.

GABRIEL'S MESSAGE appeared instantly on the status screens of the London ops center: MARTIN'S PHONE DOWN...ADVISE... Adrian Carter swore softly. Uzi Navot closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

"People shut off their phones all the time," Graham Seymour suggested.

"That's true," Navot said. "But not Martin. Martin never shuts his phone down."

"It's your man in there, Uzi. That means it's your call."

"How much time left on the feed from Martin's computer?"

"Twenty-one and change."

"What are the chances we have what we need?"

"I'm not an expert, but I'd say they're fifty-fifty."

Navot looked at Shamron. Shamron looked stoically back, as if to say that these are the moments careers are made.

"I want better odds than fifty-fifty," Navot said.

"So we wait?"

Navot nodded. "We wait."

MIKHAIL MOVED quietly to the window, parted the curtain a fraction of an inch, and peered into Martin's garden. It was twenty feet down with a guard patrolling the perimeter. But that didn't matter. The office windows were bulletproof and didn't open. Mikhail returned to the desk and checked the status box on Martin's computer screen: 18:26...18:25...18:24...

Sitting tight, he thought. But what about Zoe?

JONAS BRUNNER and his security staff worked from an office on the ground floor of the mansion not far from the service kitchen. He led Martin Landesma

"Why did you tell me to turn off my phone?"

"Because it's compromised."

"Compromised?"

"Your mobile is broadcasting your life to the world, Martin. So is your computer."

Landesma

"I'm not sure yet. But I think they may have come to your party tonight for a second helping."

"What are you talking about?"

Muller relayed his suspicions. Landesma

"What do you want me to do, Mr. Landesma

"Find that Russian."

"And Zoe?"

"Give me a few of your men. I'll take care of Zoe."

IT DID NOT take Bru

Wisely, he chose not to go alone, bringing with him four of his most impressively built men. They climbed the back staircase as nonchalantly as possible; once out of sight, each man drew a SIG Sauer P226. At the top of the stairs, they proceeded wordlessly down the hallway, footfalls muted by lush carpeting. Thirty-two feet later, they stopped and turned to the left. The doors leading to the alcove were closed. They yielded without a sound. Bru

MARTIN RETURNED to the ballroom as the film was nearing its conclusion and sat next to Monique.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said softly, his gaze focused on the screen.

"Perhaps this might not be the best time or place, Martin."

"Actually, I'm afraid it is."

Monique looked at him. "What have you done?"

"I need your help, Monique."

"And if I refuse?"

"We can lose everything."

THE MAN who sprang at Jonas Bru

The Russian fought bravely and in near silence. He broke two noses with palm strikes, fractured a cheekbone with an adroit elbow, and left a larynx so damaged its owner would speak with a rasp for the rest of his life. Eventually, though, he was overwhelmed by the greater numbers and combined weight of his opponents. After rendering him defenseless, Bru

GABRIEL DID NOT hear the applause, only the violent struggle that preceded it. Next came the voice of Jonas Bru

ZOE WAS filing slowly out of the ballroom when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she was greeted by the unexpected sight of Monique Landesma

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced, Zoe." Monique extended her hand. "Martin's told me so much about you. He admires your work a great deal."

"If there were more businessmen like your husband, Mrs. Landesma

Zoe was not sure from where she summoned these words, but they seemed to please Monique.

"I hope you enjoyed the film. Martin's very proud of it."

"He should be."

Monique placed a jeweled hand lightly on Zoe's arm. "There's something I need to discuss with you, Zoe. Might we have a brief word in private?"

Zoe hesitated, unsure of what to do, then agreed.

"Wonderful," said Monique. "Come this way."

She led Zoe across the ballroom through a pair of towering doors, then down a marble hallway lit by chandeliers. At the end of the hallway was a small, ornate parlor that looked like something Zoe had seen on a tour of Versailles. Monique paused at the doorway and, with a smile, gestured for Zoe to enter. Zoe never saw the hand that immediately clamped over her mouth or the one that ripped the clutch from her grasp. She tried to struggle, but it was useless. She tried to scream but could barely breathe. As the bodyguards carried Zoe from the room, she managed to twist her head around and cast a pleading glance toward Monique. But Monique never saw it. She had already turned and was making her way back to the party.

MARTIN WAS standing at the center of the main reception room, surrounded as usual. Monique went to his side and slipped an arm proprietarily around his waist.