The Pure

everything advancing around him. This is the sort of life he had been willing to accept when he joined the Office all those years ago. A life of commitment to an ideal, of waiting for the opportunity to act, no matter how long it took. A life of intelligence. But those days were gone. In reality, this half-existence, this half-life in which nobody knew the truth any longer – in which he himself had almost forgotten how to discriminate the truth from lies – was bleaker, more meaningless, lonelier than he could ever have imagined.
    It must have been around six in the evening when there was a knock at the door. Uzi sat motionless for a few seconds, then got to his feet, gripped his R9 and turned out the light. He racked his weapon, the metallic double-crunch loud in the room. Through the peephole, nobody could be seen. His forehead clammy with sweat, he opened the door.
    ‘Hey,’ said Liberty, breezing past him into the room, ‘take it easy. Turn the light on. Why did you turn it off, anyway?’
    ‘What is this, an interrogation?’
    ‘I saw the light going out. Is that what the Mossad taught you? How to give yourself away?’
    ‘I wanted the advantage of being in the dark. I wasn’t going to pretend.’
    ‘Oh look at this,’ said Liberty, taking his gun in her hands. ‘Cocked and ready to rock.’ She ejected the bullet from the chamber. ‘What’s up, Uzi? You’re way too jumpy.’
    ‘Do you blame me?’
    Uzi checked the corridor; so far as he could tell, she was alone. He closed the door behind her. Liberty sat on the bed. It was only then that he noticed how different she looked. Gone were the elegant clothes, the jewellery. Tonight she was wearing jeans, trainers, a hoodie. She looked younger, normal almost. And, curiously, more attractive.
    ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ said Liberty. ‘Come and sit down.’
    ‘You look different,’ said Uzi, aware that he was stating the obvious. In the back of his mind, he wondered if she had come to shoot him.
    ‘I’m off duty tonight. This is a social call.’
    ‘Social?’
    ‘Look, I told you. Sit down. Actually, before you do that, get dressed.’
    Uzi, who had been wearing nothing but his underwear, pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. Then he sat down, scowling.
    ‘Finally.’ Liberty pushed back her hood, shook out her hair. ‘Look, there’s something big coming up for you. Something nice on the horizon. Interesting job, fat bonus. So tonight, I figured we’d go out. Get away from it all. Forget our woes, you know? Then we can hit the ground running.’
    ‘What kind of job?’
    ‘I’m not going to discuss it tonight. Tonight is for relaxing. Clearing out the system.’
    Uzi made no response. What did this mean? Was it a trap? She may have come to execute him, but that didn’t feel right. Why would she do it herself? Liberty laughed, her dark eyes flashing. ‘Come on, man, relax,’ she said, as if reading his mind. ‘Stop being so suspicious, all right? I’m just a fun-loving girl. All work and no play . . .’ Her words faded as she read a text on her phone. Then, once again, he had her full attention. ‘All work and no play,’ she repeated, and smiled.
    ‘Where are we going? Tonight?’
    She leaned closer. ‘It’s a surprise.’
    ‘I hate surprises.’
    ‘Come on, Uzi, chill out. You’re not a spy any more. You’re your own man.’
    ‘Stop playing around, Liberty. Just tell me where we’re going. I can’t afford to take any risks.’
    ‘Look,’ said Liberty. ‘I’m worried about you, you know? I don’t want you freaking out on me. I need you.’
    ‘Freaking out?’
    ‘Yeah. Spy syndrome. I mean, just look at the way you answered the door. And look at the state of this place.’
    ‘My life expectancy’s not great,’ said Uzi, anger rising quickly through him. ‘You know that.’
    Liberty shook her head dismissively. ‘We’ve got to get you out for a while, change of scenery. Get your energy back. Come on.’ She took his arm – her grip was surprisingly strong – and pulled him to his feet. For a moment they were close, half an arm’s length away, looking at each other. He pressed his gun into his waistband. And then they were out in the corridor, and she was leading him towards the lift.

 
29
    Outside the air was black and crisp. Uzi’s lungs felt different, felt good. None of Liberty’s bodyguards could be seen, but Uzi doubted she was without some protection. She was good at blending in; they left