The Pure

of place where a man could hide away in comfort. Above all, it was the last place the Office would look.
    ‘You can’t be getting all this for nothing,’ said Avner. ‘This place is pricey. Has the woman asked you to do anything yet?’
    ‘Not yet. But it’s only been a day.’
    ‘Something isn’t right about this, my brother. I hope you know what you’re doing.’
    ‘You forget how much money there is in heroin, Avner. You underestimate the power of having exclusive suppliers. I know exactly what I’m doing.’
    ‘I hope so, my brother. I hope so.’ Avner parted the curtains and looked down at the rain-swept street. ‘They’re late.’
    ‘Only by a couple of minutes.’
    ‘It makes me jumpy when people are late.’
    ‘Relax. Have a drink.’
    ‘This woman is using you,’ said Avner. ‘I feel it in my gut.’
    ‘She’s using me; I’m using her,’ said Uzi. ‘It’s a working relationship. You should thank me.’
    ‘What for?’
    Uzi took a breath. ‘I’m giving her jumbo.’
    ‘Jumbo?’
    ‘Why not? It’ll confuse the Office. Distract them. Make Operation Regime Change more effective.’
    ‘OK, but jumbo? Actual jumbo? You’ll get yourself killed.’
    ‘This is all or nothing, Avner. Total war. You know that.’
    Avner studied his friend’s face. ‘Not KAMG?’ he said. Uzi didn’t reply. ‘You’ve told her about KAMG, haven’t you? Shit, my brother, shit.’
    ‘Look, are you serious about Operation Regime Change or not?’ said Uzi, irritated that Avner – as an old friend – had been able to read his mind.
    ‘You’ve just taken this to a whole new level,’ said Avner. ‘A whole new level.’
    Uzi sat up and lit a cigarette. For once he felt strong, confident, comfortable in his own skin. The Office had no idea where he was, he was sure of that. Finally he was fighting back. And this time, with Liberty on his side, he had some protection. This was still reckless, of course; the whole thing was based on recklessness. But sometimes – just sometimes – recklessness can bring strength.
    ‘Get serious, Avner,’ he said through a curtain of cigarette smoke. ‘If we’re going to do this, we should do it properly.’
    ‘You’re allowed to smoke in this place?’
    ‘I’m with Liberty. I can do whatever the fuck I want.’
    ‘A match made in heaven.’
    There was a knock at the door. They exchanged glances. Avner opened it, his hand hovering above his sidearm. Two men slouched in the doorway; one was holding a computer bag.
    ‘Who are you?’ said Avner.
    ‘We’re here for a data-gathering appointment,’ said one.
    ‘Where’s J?’
    ‘J doesn’t do these meetings himself.’
    ‘I thought he’d be here.’
    ‘It doesn’t work like that. J doesn’t have time to waste on every joker with a tale to tell and half a stolen document.’
    Avner scowled. ‘Show me some ID,’ he said, ‘I’m not taking any chances.’
    ‘With pleasure.’
    Avner took the ID and disappeared into the adjoining room of the suite to call J. Uzi flashed his R9, took the computer bag and shut the door, leaving the WikiLeaks men outside. He examined the bag, tossed it on the bed and began removing the equipment: a laptop, specialist cameras and recording devices. Sophisticated stuff, but no weapons. He could hear Avner raising his voice on the phone.
    When the bag was empty, Uzi turned it upside down and shook it. Nothing came out at first; then a small grey object bounced on to the bed. He leaned over and picked it up. An encrypted USB drive. The sort that would wipe itself if the pass code were entered incorrectly. Uzi had used them countless times for the Office.
    Avner came in from the next room, slightly flushed. ‘OK, J’s not coming. Lazy bastard. But he has vouched for these guys,’ he said. ‘Says they’re sharp as fuck. Let’s see if they are.’
    ‘So what do you think?’
    ‘I think we do it anyway. But it’s your call.’
    ‘OK. Let’s do it.’
    While Uzi shoved the equipment back in the bag – keeping the USB – Avner ushered the two men in. Keeping an eye on Uzi and his pistol, they sat awkwardly, side by side, on the bed. Uzi scrutinised them. The first looked surprisingly young, barely out of his teens, and was dressed in a crumpled tracksuit and baseball cap. His skin had a sallow complexion, as if he rarely saw the sunlight. The other was older – thirties, perhaps – but no less scruffy. His body was embedded in folds of material, a baggy hoodie