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permits, and what do you
know? It turned out the company was a shell corporation.
From there it kind of snowballed, because the government
stepped in and claimed whatever they were building was
a matter of national security. A bunch of very important
guys ended up in prison for lying to Congress about it. You
104
bagged a sitting senator and two White House advisers. It
was pretty cool. From a David versus Goliath standpoint,
I mean.”
He shows me another picture—a construction crane.
“See this? You hung banners on these. The police
figured you shinnied up the things, freestyle. No ropes,
nothing.”
This would explain the images coming back to me.
“What happened to me? I mean her. Angel.”
“There were all kinds of rumors about you. Some peo-
ple thought you’d been snuffed out. Assassinated. People
started painting angel wings all over the place in New
York. Where’s Angel? It became a thing. People had T-shirts
printed up, and posters. You know how kids are these days,
trying to borrow your mojo. Things died down a bit after
a while.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About eighteen months, I guess. How long you been
in this joint?”
“A year maybe? I don’t really know for sure.” I look at
Pierce and ask, “What were the other rumors about me?”
“Just some stuff,” he says.
“What?”
“Keep in mind that these are rumors. Probably entirely
made up.”
“Tell me.”
“Okay, there was a report that you tried to murder
someone in the police station when you got arrested.”
“Wow.”
105
“After that, though, there was nothing else. Well, noth-
ing else halfway credible. No one knew what happened to
you, and not for lack of trying to find out. There must have
been a dozen stories and at least that many theories about
why you disappeared.”
“I just . . . I can’t believe it. I feel like you’re telling me
a story about someone else. Someone who can’t possibly
be me.”
Pierce puts his hand out like he wants to shake, and I
put my hand in his, even though I’m not entirely sure why.
“Congratulations on not being dead.”
“For all that’s worth.”
“Hey, it’s no small feat being alive. And it’s even more
amazing that you’ve survived this place.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is a highly secret, highly secure, almost hack-
proof place. It’s not like it’s juvie. They’ve been drilling
into your head! Why did they put you in here? How did
they put you in here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember anything about how you got here?”
“No. I always figured I must be some nobody if no one
came looking for me.”
He scratches his chin and squints. “Well, they’re look-
ing for you now.”
“You believe me, then?”
“About the guys with guns coming here specifically to
kill you?”
106
I nod.
“I guess I have to. Not that I understand it. It’s hard
to believe this whole operation is about killing a girl who
hung up a bunch of protest banners. I mean, these guys
inside? They are the elite of the elite. The kind of hired
guns really powerful people employ to whack dictators and
then get lost. They cost a whole lotta money. My boss’s
services do not come cheap, either.”
“Your father’s, you mean?”
“Right. My father. I may never get used to calling him
that.”
Pierce stands up and tries to pace back and forth in what
little space is available. “What is it?” I ask.
“This is what’s bugging me the most: I don’t see why
8-Bit would get mixed up with this. I can’t say I know him
inside out or anything, but up until now we haven’t done
anything on this scale. And he’s way too smart for someone
to use him without him catching on to what’s happen-
ing. Besides that, he’s . . . he’s not a bad guy. Obviously
not the most responsible person ever, but I have a hard time
believing he’d get involved with some
know? It turned out the company was a shell corporation.
From there it kind of snowballed, because the government
stepped in and claimed whatever they were building was
a matter of national security. A bunch of very important
guys ended up in prison for lying to Congress about it. You
104
bagged a sitting senator and two White House advisers. It
was pretty cool. From a David versus Goliath standpoint,
I mean.”
He shows me another picture—a construction crane.
“See this? You hung banners on these. The police
figured you shinnied up the things, freestyle. No ropes,
nothing.”
This would explain the images coming back to me.
“What happened to me? I mean her. Angel.”
“There were all kinds of rumors about you. Some peo-
ple thought you’d been snuffed out. Assassinated. People
started painting angel wings all over the place in New
York. Where’s Angel? It became a thing. People had T-shirts
printed up, and posters. You know how kids are these days,
trying to borrow your mojo. Things died down a bit after
a while.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About eighteen months, I guess. How long you been
in this joint?”
“A year maybe? I don’t really know for sure.” I look at
Pierce and ask, “What were the other rumors about me?”
“Just some stuff,” he says.
“What?”
“Keep in mind that these are rumors. Probably entirely
made up.”
“Tell me.”
“Okay, there was a report that you tried to murder
someone in the police station when you got arrested.”
“Wow.”
105
“After that, though, there was nothing else. Well, noth-
ing else halfway credible. No one knew what happened to
you, and not for lack of trying to find out. There must have
been a dozen stories and at least that many theories about
why you disappeared.”
“I just . . . I can’t believe it. I feel like you’re telling me
a story about someone else. Someone who can’t possibly
be me.”
Pierce puts his hand out like he wants to shake, and I
put my hand in his, even though I’m not entirely sure why.
“Congratulations on not being dead.”
“For all that’s worth.”
“Hey, it’s no small feat being alive. And it’s even more
amazing that you’ve survived this place.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is a highly secret, highly secure, almost hack-
proof place. It’s not like it’s juvie. They’ve been drilling
into your head! Why did they put you in here? How did
they put you in here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember anything about how you got here?”
“No. I always figured I must be some nobody if no one
came looking for me.”
He scratches his chin and squints. “Well, they’re look-
ing for you now.”
“You believe me, then?”
“About the guys with guns coming here specifically to
kill you?”
106
I nod.
“I guess I have to. Not that I understand it. It’s hard
to believe this whole operation is about killing a girl who
hung up a bunch of protest banners. I mean, these guys
inside? They are the elite of the elite. The kind of hired
guns really powerful people employ to whack dictators and
then get lost. They cost a whole lotta money. My boss’s
services do not come cheap, either.”
“Your father’s, you mean?”
“Right. My father. I may never get used to calling him
that.”
Pierce stands up and tries to pace back and forth in what
little space is available. “What is it?” I ask.
“This is what’s bugging me the most: I don’t see why
8-Bit would get mixed up with this. I can’t say I know him
inside out or anything, but up until now we haven’t done
anything on this scale. And he’s way too smart for someone
to use him without him catching on to what’s happen-
ing. Besides that, he’s . . . he’s not a bad guy. Obviously
not the most responsible person ever, but I have a hard time
believing he’d get involved with some
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