Page 50 of The Cellist

“My authority ends at the threshold of my home.”

“Your country needs you.” Shamron lowered his voice. “And so do I.”

“I have a year and a half left in my term.”

“With any luck, I’ll be dead by then.” Shamron sighed in resignation. “Have you given any thought to your successor?”

“I was hoping I could talkyouinto taking the job.”

“I’m too young,” said Shamron. “Too inexperienced.”

“That leaves Yaakov Rossman or Yossi Gavish. The fact that Yaakov is the chief of Special Operations gives him the edge. But Yossi has plenty of operational experience and would make a fine chief.”

“Neither of them is your caliber.”

“In that case,” said Gabriel, “perhaps we should make history.”

“How?”

“By appointing the first female director-general of the Office.”

Shamron was intrigued by the idea. “Do you have any candidates in mind?”

“Only one.”

“Rimona?”

Gabriel smiled. “She’s the head of Collections, which means she’s responsible for recruiting and running a worldwide network of agents. She also happens to be your niece.”

“Perhaps I am eternal after all.” Shamron’s gaze was suddenly clouded by a memory. “Do you remember the day she fell off her scooter outside in the drive and tore the skin from her hip? The poor child was screaming with pain, but I was so distraught by the sight of all that blood I couldn’t comfort her. You were the one who applied the field dressing to her wound.”

“She still has the scar.”

“You were always good at fixing people, Gabriel.” Shamron indicated the circuits and vacuum tubes scattered across his worktable. “I can only make old radios sound like new again.”

“You built a country, Ari.”

“And an intelligence service,” he pointed out. “You would be wise to accept my advice every now and again.”

“What advice would you give me about Arkady Akimov?”

“Let someone else handle him.”

“Like who?”

“The Swiss or the British.”

“They’ve agreed to let me run the operation.”

“How generous of them.”

“I thought so.”

“And if things get messy?”

“The Swiss gave me a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“What are you going to do about the Russian journalist who delivered the contaminated documents to Viktor?”