Chapter 11
My cell is small and metal, an affront to my dignity. Fluorescent strips light the walls. I’m tied to a chair, hands behind my back and feet to the chair legs. Big surprise. The rope is coarse and while the knot’s not tight enough to cut off circulation, I’m out of practice and it will be awhile before I’m free. I was never able to master dislocating my thumbs, so it will take longer than strictly necessary, but I don’t seem to be in any immediate danger.
On the other side of the door, people are loudly discussing my fate. Yet another intimidation tactic. This is their home. If they wanted to keep their conversation a secret, they would have done it somewhere else. I recognize the first voice: Bruce.
“I’m telling you, he’s Church,” Bruce says.
The second voice is higher, mor
