The Mark of the Assassin

She believed that “British cuisine” was an oxymoron,

The police are watching the ferry landings," Delaroche said. "That means the Osbournes are probably on the island. The South Ferry shuts down at one A.M. The police will go home because they'll conclude we haven't tried to make the crossing.

Dammit, he killed Sarah Randolph right in front of me. Why couldn't someone in this fucking place just show me the file at some point and help me put it to rest?" "Because that would have been the sensible thing to do. But sensibility and intelligence work rarely go hand in hand. Surely, you've learned that by now.

The people I kill are wicked men. If I don't kill them, someone else will. It's just a business, nothing more.

Betrayal required intelligence and ruthlessness, failure only stupidity or lack of concentration.

Sarah Randolph made one terrible mistake, Drozdov had said. She fell in love with her quarry. She had been a lie, a myth created by his enemies, tragically heroic in her boundless naïveté. She had betrayed him, but she was not real. He could not love her, nor could he hate her. He only felt sorry for her.

The Director believes spice and intelligence services or rather like rats and cockroaches. Better to keep up the pretense they don't really exist. Helps a free society sleep better at night.

Retirement had robbed Arbatov of his edge. Like most old men who live alone, he had settled into a carefully scripted daily routine from which he rarely strayed. It included walking his dog each night before dinner. The only thing more predictable than Arbatov was the dog; each night it pissed on the same tree and shit on the same patch of grass in the park near Arbatov's flat.

mushroom omelets and mugs of café

I must say it's the one thing about growing old I don't mind. The eternal craving for female flesh has finally left me in peace.

The European Community makes the life of the international terrorist much easier because, once inside a member nation, travel to the others is almost free of risk.

The Society practiced democracy internally, even though most of its members believed it was a rather cumbersome concept in the real world. The Society’s founding creed declared peace was dangerous. Its members believed constant controlled global tension served the interests of all. It prevented complacency. It maintained vigilance. It built national identity. And most of all it made them money, a good deal of money.

had not slept. Her gaze was somewhere else. Three half-smoked cigarettes lay in the ashtray on her nightstand. A pile of briefs was strewn across his side of the bed. He could tell she was angry, and she had dealt with it the way she always did—throwing herself into her work. Michael undressed silently. “What time is it?” she asked, without looking at him. “Late.” “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be so late tonight?” “There were developments in the case. I thought you’d be asleep.” “I don’t care if you wake me up, Michael. I needed to hear your voice.” “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. The place was crashing. I couldn’t get away.” “Why didn’t you come to the appointment?” Michael was unbuttoning his shirt. He stopped and turned to look at her. Her face was red, her eyes damp. “Elizabeth, I’m the officer assigned to the terrorist group that may have shot down that jetliner. I can’t walk out in the middle of the day and come to Washington for a doctor’s appointment.” “Why not?” “Because I can’t, that’s why. The President of the United States is making decisions based on what we tell him, and in a situation like this it’s impossible for me to leave the office, even for a couple of hours.” “Michael, I have a job too. It may not be as important as working for the CIA, but it is damned important to me. I’m juggling three cases right now, I’ve got Braxton breathing down my neck, and I’m trying desperately to have a—” Her composure cracked, just for an instant. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I wanted to come, but I couldn’t. Not on a day like today. I felt horrible about missing the appointment. What did the doctor say?” She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Michael crossed the room, sat down beside her on