The Pure

Shabak days – about my bursting a man’s eyeball during a mock interrogation in training – is not true.’ He straightened up and glanced at the woman behind him, rubbing his chin. His expression was stony, impassive. The woman stepped forward.
    ‘Michal Bar-Tov, head of internal security,’ she said with the briefest of nods. ‘You have heard what you can expect from us. For this, we expect you to give us your whole life. From now on you must expose everything – I mean everything – to us. New friends can only be made with prior approval. You must bring in your passports and documents, as well as those of your family, to be stored here. When people ask about your new job, tell them you’re working for the defence department and can’t talk about it. Whatever you do, don’t tell them you’re working at a bank or a kindergarten. It will only arouse curiosity.’ There was a slight ripple of laughter, which she silenced with a glance. ‘There will be a lie detector test every three months which you will all be obliged to take.’
    ‘No, you’re not obliged,’ Oren contradicted her. ‘You children have the right to refuse the lie detector. Which gives me the right to shoot you.’
    Somebody cleared his throat into the silence.
    ‘Lastly,’ said Bar-Tov, ‘you must never talk about work over the phone, or at home, or in any other unauthorised situation. Anyone who does this will be severely punished. Don’t ask me how I will know. I am the head of internal security. I will know everything.’
    She paused and looked around the room, scrutinising every face, every expression, every movement of every eyelid, every shuffle. Adam stole a glance left and right. His fellow recruits looked tough, battle-hardened and wily in their own ways. But none of them dared move, let alone speak.
    ‘Children,’ said Oren, drawing himself up to his full height, ‘enjoy your last few minutes as blind people. Today we start to open your eyes.’
    After that, the morning passed with various inductions. In silence the recruits filed through the technology room, the listening department, the library of passports and documents, the armoury, the recreation area. They would be given training in five areas: intelligence gathering, communications protocol, general military knowledge, covert and secret technology, and undercover operations. And Adam, like the other recruits, was impatient for it all to begin.
    He didn’t have to wait for long. After a sumptuous lunch in the prime minister’s dining room, with menus sourced from the best restaurants in the world – Office operatives would have to be comfortable in such environments, and this would form part of their training – they were ordered to hand in their identity cards and driven in groups of three to downtown Tel Aviv. Adam was once again placed in the charge of Yigal, who was as taciturn on the drive back into the city as he had been on the way out of it. The hottest part of the day had given way to the scorching closeness of the mid-afternoon, when heat seems to rise from everything: the tarmac, the pavement, the cars. Adam began to feel drowsy as the Mercedes hummed gently through the traffic. The psychologist was driving; Adam’s eyes rested on the hair on top of his head until it blurred, and he dozed.
    But it was thoughts of Nehama, still his Nehama, that prevented him from losing consciousness completely. Had she planned to tell him she was pregnant? Was she intending to leave him? Was she afraid of what he might say, of what he might do? He checked his phone: nothing. The dumb inanimateness of a tool not being used. He turned it off.
    Eventually the psychologist parked somewhere in the HaRakevet district, north-west of the LaGuardia Interchange. They got out, and Adam followed him and Yigal through the streets, feeling naked and vulnerable without his ID card. If he were caught there would be trouble, especially given his standing in the military. They reached the Yad Harutzim, a street famous for its cafés and bars. They bought coffees and stood on the corner, in the shade.
    At length, Yigal spoke. ‘Look over there,’ he said, gesturing into the sun. ‘See that police officer across the road? Here’s your task. Find out his first name and his last name. Find out where he’s from. Sit with him in his car and have a drink of water. Then come back.’
    ‘What shall I do if he asks for my ID? I was told to hand it in.’
    ‘Then what do you want me