Liberty
Page 21
No one had to die in the end.
Mission accomplished.
17
There’s a dark brown wooden trellis above us, covered in bright fuchsia bougainvillea. Below it, staring at me from above my almond milk latte, is Madden.
“You’ll be happy to know your best friend Uri was granted asylum, along with his extremely attractive girlfriend. And given a handsome sum. As a goodwill gesture.”
“She really is crazily pretty, isn’t she? It’s almost like she’s an alien or something. I call her Ice Queen.”
“That’s apt.”
Over the speakers, George Ezra is singing Budapest. It’s a happy, soulful little song, and it seems like all of our troubles have somehow floated away beyond the hot pink bougainvillea.
“So, dearest Madden, on a scale of one to ten . . . am I fired?”
“What, for completely disobeying orders and bringing public enemy number one back to the center of the liberal universe so we would have to actually pardon him?”
“Something like that.”
“You know, this may surprise you, but the president of the United States, your commander in chief, wanted me to express her gratitude. She said she admires your moxie.”
“Wow. The president of the United States admires my moxie. Are you jealous?”
“Maybe. It’s possible. No one has ever said anything about my moxie.”
I slurp through my smirk.
“By the way, I have some interesting videotapes to show you. If you care. Of Uri’s dad. Dimitri. We planted a camera at Turandot. His favorite restaurant. You’re even in one of the videos. Looking quite clueless, I’m afraid.”
“Ah! Looking forward to it.”
See, it was Madden all along. With the videotapes. Now you can sleep at night.
You’re welcome.
“So? What about my parents? I think I’ve proven myself. Don’t you?”
“You have. And we know where they are. Now we just have to get to them.”
“Now I just have to get to them.”
“You think you’re ready for that?”
I stare at him. Duh.
“You’ll have to learn Arabic.”
“I’ll start tonight.”
“That’s what I thought. You’re a tough cookie. I respect that. Even if you are annoying.”
We smile at each other. It’s almost like seeing an old friend. Someone from long, long ago.
“And Raynes?”
He shrugs. “Look, he’s got the best legal team in the country. Paid for by everyone from MoveOn to Sean Penn.
“Yeah, I heard that. I thought it might be a rumor.”
“They’re calling it the trial of the century. Not bad for a first run, Paige.”
He gets up to leave.
“By the way . . . I knew you wouldn’t kill him.”
“Yeah, right.”
He leans in and whispers, “In fact, why do you think I found you?” He stands up straight. “The world needs to question the dominant paradigm.”
He gives me a kind of secret, knowing look and walks off. Halfway out the door he turns around.
“Oh, I left something for you.”
He nods and walks into the gluten-free, iced chai distance.
And there it is. Under the table. Something framed.
I open the brown crepe paper, indistinct, and look inside.
There it is, that coyote painting from the dirtbag flea motel, howling at the moon. The one I said I wanted to buy ironically. In Monument Valley.
I can’t believe he got this for me. But more than that, I can’t believe there is something taped to the back of it.
Ah.
I see.
My next mission.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wonder if I will forget someone? If I do, please forgive me. I have been helped in so many ways, by so many people, I am both in awe and gratitude.
So, here goes: my mother, father, brother, sister, stepmom, and stepdad. To my agent, Rosemary Stimola, who is my cookies and milk. To my editor, Kristen Pettit, who has been incredible, kind, brilliant, and just plain cool. To Elizabeth Lynch and everyone over at HarperCollins, in those glassy rooms, with Herman Melville’s contract somewhere on display. In LA, I must thank my agent, Jordan Bayer, at Original Artists. I have to thank Wyck Godfrey and Jaclyn Huntling over at Temple Hill. Your insight into this book, and the film, has been truly inspiring and essential. Of course, Greg Mooradian and everyone at Fox 2000. I must thank my close friends Dawn Cody, Brad Kluck, Mira Crisp, and Io Perry. You are such good eggs. And, of course, my husband, journalist and rabble rouser, Sandy Tolan. I love you with all my heart and, especially, the way you never fail to rattle the cages on behalf of those in need. You are truly my better half. And, last, but not least, my beloved son, Wyatt. I could shake out all the stars in the sky and never make as much light as you.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PHOTO BY NIELS ALPERT
ANDREA PORTES is the bestselling novelist of two critically lauded adult novels, Hick, her debut, which was made into a feature film starring Chloë Grace Moretz, Alec Baldwin, Blake Lively, Eddie Redmayne, and Juliette Lewis, and Bury This. Her first novel for young adult readers, Anatomy of a Misfit, was called “perfection in book form” by Teen Vogue.
Andrea grew up shuffled around between such disparate locales as Nebraska, Brasília, Texas, Rio de Janeiro, Baltimore, North Dakota, California, Wisconsin, and North Carolina. Finally Andrea was granted relief from this nomadic existence when she was accepted to Bryn Mawr College. She attended on a full scholarship and later graduated cum laude, with a major in English literature. She then earned her Masters in Fine Arts degree from UC San Diego.
After her relentless education, Andrea moved to the neighborhood of Echo Park in Los Angeles, where she spent years mostly getting into trouble. It was in this period of vague nothingness that Andrea penned her debut novel, in longhand in three notebooks. Currently she lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Sandy Tolan, their son, Wyatt, and their dog, Rascal. You can visit her online at www.andreaportes.com.
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BOOKS BY ANDREA PORTES
ANATOMY OF A MISFIT
THE FALL OF BUTTERFLIES
LIBERTY
HENRY & EVA
CREDITS
COVER ART INSPIRED BY FRANKY DE MEYER/GETTY IMAGES
PAINTED DOLLS © 2017 BY ANNE BONCHEVA
PHOTOGRAPH © 2017 BY CHRISTINE BLACKBURN
HAND LETTERING BY JESSIE SAYWARD BRIGHT
COVER DESIGN BY SARAH NICHOLE KAUFMAN
COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
LIBERTY. Copyright © 2017 by Andrea Portes. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2017932853
ISBN 978-0-06-242199-9
ISBN 978-0-06-267332-9 (intl ed)
EPub Edition © May 2017 ISBN 9780062422019
17 18 19 20 21 PC/LSCH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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