Free Moscow Rules by Daniel Silva Page A

searching his tail for Russian assassins.
    “Eli’s already inside King Saul Boulevard undergoing a rather unpleasant debriefing. When they’re
    finished with him, they’d like a crack at you as well. As you might expect, Amos is unhappy about the way
    things turned out in Rome. Given his precarious position, he wants to make certain that you’re the one
    who gets the blame rather than him.”
    Amos Sharret was the director of the Office. Like nearly everyone else at the top of Israel ’s security
    and military establishment, he had come under intense criticism for his performance during the most
    recent war in Lebanon and was now hanging on to the reins of power by his fingernails. Shamron and his
    allies in the Prime Minister’s Office were quietly trying to pry them loose.
    “Someone should tell Amos that I’m not interested in his job.”
    “He wouldn’t believe it. Amos sees enemies everywhere. It’s a professionalaffliction.” Shamron
    inched toward the edge of his chair and used his cane to leverage himself upright. “Come,” he said. “I’ll
    take you home.”
    An armored Peugeot limousine was waiting outside in the secure VIP parking area. They climbed
    into the back and headed toward the Judean Hills.
    “There were developments in Rome this evening after you boarded your flight in Frankfurt. The
    Italian Ministry of Justice sent a letter to the Vatican, formally requesting permission to take over the
    investigation into Ostrovsky’s death. I don’t suppose I have to tell you how the Vatican responded.”
    “Donati agreed immediately.”
    “Actually, it was the Vatican secretary of state who issued the formal response, but I’m sure your
    friend the monsignor was whispering into his ear. The Italian police have taken possession of Ostrovsky’s
    body and removed all his luggage and personal effects from his room at the Excelsior. Hazmat teams are
    now searching the hotel for evidence of poisons and other toxins. As for the Basilica, it’s been cordoned
    off and is being treated as a crime scene. The Ministry of Justice has asked all those who witnessed the
    death to come forward immediately. I suppose that would include you.” Shamron scrutinized Gabriel for a
    moment. “It seems to me your position vis-à-vis Boris Ostrovsky is somewhat tenuous at the moment.”
    “Donati has promised to keep my name out of it.”
    “God knows the Vatican is good at keeping secrets, but surely there are others there who know about
    your connection to this affair. If one of them wants to embarrass Donati-or us, for that matter-all they have
    to do is make a quiet phone call to the Polizia di Stato.”
    “Boris Ostrovsky was killed by a professional Russian assassin in St. Peter’s Square.” Gabriel
    removed a manila folder from the side flap of his bag and handed it to Shamron. “And these pictures
    prove it.”
    Shamron switched on his overhead reading light and examined the photos. “It’s a brazen act, even by
    Russian standards. Ostrovsky must have known something very important for them to resort to this.”
    “I take it you have a theory?”
    “Unfortunately, we do.” Shamron slipped the photos back into the file folder and switched off the
    lamp. “Our good friends in the Kremlin have been selling sophisticated weapons systems to the rogue
    regimes of the Middle East at an unprecedented rate. The mullahs of Iran are one of their best customers,
    but they’ve also been selling antiaircraft and antitank systems to their old friends in Damascus. We’ve
    been picking up reports that the Syrians and the Kremlin are about to close a major deal involving an
    advanced Russian missile known as the Iskander. It’s a road-mobile weapon with a range of one hundred
    seventy miles, which means Tel Aviv would be well within Syria ’s range. I don’t need to explain the
    ramifications of that to you.”
    “It would alter the strategic balance in the Middle East overnight.”
    Shamron nodded his head