Meltwater Read Free

shenanigans in Italy and dodgy loans in Iceland. This video would cause the biggest stir. Which is why they had to make it objective, hard-hitting and above all unimpeachable.
    This time their target was Israel.
    Erika had always known that at some point Freeflow would have to publish a leak concerning Israel, and she had no doubt that this particular leak deserved to be published. But she also knew what her family would think of it. What Erika was doing would be a step too far for them.
    She took a deep breath. Too bad.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    T HEY PASSED THROUGH the newly built suburbs of Reykjavík into the city centre, a warren of small, brightly coloured houses with corrugated iron roofs. Ásta drove up a hill towards the tall smooth swooping church spire that Erika remembered from her previous visit to the city. From the summit by the church she could see over the roofs towards a broad mountain ridge dusted with snow to the north and sea to the west.
    ‘That’s Mount Esja over there,’ Ásta said. ‘It looks different every time you see it.’
    They descended a pretty residential road, a little wider than the others, with small leafless trees and cars parked on one side perpendicular to the sidewalk. She caught sight of the street sign: Thórsgata. Ásta drew up outside a yellow concrete house with a metal roof. Lights glimmered behind drawn curtains. ‘Here we are.’
    Inside, the house was buzzing. The ground floor was open-plan, essentially a large living area full of computer equipment, wires, folding tables and chairs, and people.
    ‘Hey, Erika, great to see you!’ Nico, tall, with shaven cranium and unshaven jaw, kissed her on both cheeks. Dieter looked up from a nest of cables and waved absent-mindedly.
    Dúddi, a young Icelandic computer-science student, came over holding out his hand. Erika ignored it and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Hey, Dúddi. Great to see you again. How’s it been?’
    Dúddi grinned. ‘It’s been good. It’s great to have Freeflow here.’
    ‘Let me introduce you to the other two,’ said Nico. He was wearing black designer T-shirt and jeans, and the familiar diamond earring in his left ear.
    The two volunteers in question were Zivah, an Israeli student who would act as translator, and Franz, a Swiss video and sound guy. They were both in their early twenties and, like Ásta and Dúddi, full of enthusiasm.
    Freeflow claimed that it had an army of volunteers all around the world. This wasn’t strictly true. People certainly put themselves forward to help, but most of them soon faded away when given the simplest tasks. Erika hoped that these two would prove more reliable.
    ‘Thanks, everyone, for giving up your time,’ she said. ‘You’ve all seen the video. You’ve all seen Tamara Wilton and the four other aid workers in that truck die. You might think that that is what happens in war: that’s certainly what the Israeli Defence Force will say. But it shouldn’t be like that; it doesn’t have to be like that. International treaties have been signed in The Hague, in Geneva, in Rome to prevent actions like these.’
    She lowered her voice. The little gathering strained to hear her. She knew the importance of converting her allies to the cause before she tried to convert anyone else.
    ‘What we saw on that video was a war crime, pure and simple. And governments all over the world will suppress evidence of war crimes if they can and if the people let them. Not just bad governments, but good governments too. Freeflow cannot prevent these war crimes from happening, but it can ensure that when they do happen the world knows about them. We can shine a bright light into those dark corners they don’t want us to see. It’s something we have done in the past and something we will do in the future until governments around the world finally realize they can no longer cover up these obscenities against all that our civilization stands for.’
    She fell silent for a few moments, letting