Chapter Nineteen

“You have a visitor señor,” an embassy guard announced. Assange was doing ok. The latest WikiLeaks from Syria were currently leaking all over the globe and international powers hadn’t bullied Ecuador into handing him over to the British authorities. The judge assigned to Manning seemed to be giving him a chance. Things were looking up.

“Who is it por favor?” Assange asked.

“Señor Karl Rove,” the guard answered. Bloody hell. Assange paused and took a big breath.

“Send him in.” Karl apparated in the doorway. His face was passive and uncurious. He stared at Assange for a few seconds. “Well?”

“I’ve come to collect you for the United States government,” Karl said matter-of-factly. “You are wanted for crimes of espionage and sedition against the USA. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can conclude this little dance that is getting you nowhere.”

“We already did that dance,” responded Assange. “As far as I remember, I didn't leave you wanting, nor did I disregard our agreement.”

“That included you never peering into classified US material again.”

“Not exactly old boy,” Assange looked smug. “If you re-read line one, second paragraph of my release papers, it states: ‘will refrain from entering US military/government domain space or face further punishment.’ I never agreed to censor my reading habits, or my publishing for that matter. I also didn’t solicit any particular person or party to steal your precious cables. I merely read up on US law, used the Pentagon Papers as precedent, and created a space for publishing information that whistle blowers obtained.”

“We have proof that you contacted Manning before he uploaded the material,” said Karl.

“Really?” asked Assange. “Show me.” Karl stood still and didn’t say a word…waiting.

Finally, Karl spoke. “You’re not fooling anyone. You can throw words out there like transparency, accountability and conspiracy, but in the end, you’re still just another wanna-be usurper.”

“Usurper?” smirked Assange. “Come on Karl, with all your passive-aggressive control you still can’t help showing your hand. I’m not you.”

“Sure you are,” said Karl, plain-faced. “You want the same power that I already have, but you hold yourself as if you’re above the rest of us. You’re not. You’re actually more of a liar in that regard. You found an ‘in’ and are taking advantage of it.”

“They thought the same thing about Jesus,” suggested Assange, “but you should know that since you’re such good friends with the Fundamentals.”

“You’re no Jesus.”

“You can’t know that Karl.” Assange looked at him thoughtfully. “Your ethics are so compromised that you wouldn’t recognize a being filled with only Love. It’s like a foreign language or a layer of atmosphere you have no idea about. Whether you like it or not, I’m here for the right reasons, and I accept you as a brother, even if you are as far from brotherly as any human being I’ve ever met.”

Karl stared. “Philandering isn’t Love.”

Assange smiled, “No, it isn’t, but it’s closer to Love than war, and between our vices, who makes more happiness in the world?”

“I’m not going to argue lifestyles with a free-loading, couch-surfing, whore-mongering spy,” Karl continued, “so let’s cut to the chase. If you don’t walk out of this embassy with me, your mother will be jailed on tax evasion.”

“Hardly, but I accept your threat as the only way you know how to do business.” Assange stood up. “It’s a shame. What will happen to your lifestyle when the world makes war illegal?”

“I’ll be long gone before anything like that happens…and I’ll make sure you are too.” Karl stared one last time and walked out.