Page 53 of The Cellist

“It was a long time ago.”

“And your associate who broke into my computer?”

“He sends his best.”

“No hard feelings, I hope.”

“A few,” said Gabriel. “But let’s not dwell on the past. I’m here to talk about the future.”

Martin frowned. “I didn’t realize we had one.”

“A bright one, actually.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Restore the global order and Western liberal democracy before it’s too late.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“By going into business with Arkady Akimov.” Gabriel smiled. “How else?”

The walls of Villa Alma were hung with a world-class collection of Impressionist and postwar paintings. Martin showed off a few of his newer acquisitions, including a voluptuous nude by Lucian Freud, as they repaired to the sweeping terrace. The Savoy-blue waters of the lake sparkled in the dazzling sunlight. Martin pointed out the Mont Blanc massif, where the Planpincieux glacier was in danger of imminent collapse after several days of above-normal temperatures. The planet, he feared, was hurtling toward the point of no return. The American withdrawal from the Paris Agreement had been a disaster; four irrecoverable years had been lost. He was confident the Democratic candidate for president, were he to win the election, would create a cabinet-level post devoted solely to combating climate change. He had been told by a campaign source that the leadingcontender for the job was the former senator and secretary of state who had negotiated the Iran nuclear accords. Martin knew him well. Indeed, he had been a frequent guest at the secretary’s homes in Georgetown, Nantucket, and Sun Valley. It was true what they said about the rich, thought Gabriel, listening. They really were different.

“And did you tell your good friend the secretary that you were the one who helped the Iranians construct their centrifuge cascades? Thatyouwere the one who brought the world to the brink of yet another war in the Middle East?”

“Actually, it never came up. You and your friends at MI6 and the CIA managed to keep my identity secret, even from the man who was sitting across the negotiating table from the Iranians.”

“We assured you we would.”

“Forgive me for doubting your word. After all, you know what they say about promises, Allon.”

“I do my best to keep mine.”

“Have you always?”

“No, Martin. But let’s not get into a game of moral relativism. The scale of your duplicity is almost as breathtaking as the view from your terrace.”

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. Isn’t that what the good book says?”

“Not our book. In fact, we were the ones who pioneered the technique.”

“It’s not all a lie,” said Martin. “I really do want to make the world a better place.”

“We have that in common, you and I. As the inhabitant of a small country with limited water and arable land, I share yourconcerns about the changing climate. I also appreciate the work you’ve done in Africa, as uncontrolled migratory flows are inherently destabilizing. For proof, one needs to look no further than Western Europe, where the anti-immigrant extreme right is ascendant.”

“They’re racist cretins. Not to mention authoritarians. I fear for the future of democracy.”

“Which is why you’re going to announce a new One World initiative to promote freedom and human rights, especially in Hungary, Poland, the former republics of the Soviet Union, and Russia itself.”

“George Soros cornered that market long ago. By the way, he’s a friend, too.”

“In that case, I’m sure he won’t mind if you join his crusade.”

“It’s a fool’s errand, Allon. Russia will never be a democracy.”

“Not anytime soon. But your initiative will nevertheless infuriate Arkady Akimov and his good friend the Russian president.” Gabriel paused, then added, “Which is why Arkady will want to go into business with you.”

“Explain,” said Martin.