Past Prologue: Where are our Children (A Serial Novel) Episode 4 of 9

by Gary Sapp

there instead of driving the Jaguar.

  Lucy was saying, “Sorry, darling, I had to dig in my wallet to get a couple of dollars out to pay the toll. What I was going to say is that I don’t have anything concrete enough to go with it yet. I am close however. And you know how I get when I want something bad enough…”

  Thomas wasn’t sure her reference was for Lotto or his ears. Her boss said, “Double your efforts, Lucy. I’ve already purchased time with the local superstation. I want your report to air the same day as Thomas airs his. I’ll speak to you again later, Lucy. Good hunting.”

  “You bet your ass you will, Ernest,” Lucy said. “Goodbye, Thomas. I’m still waiting on you to consider the offer I made to you back at the Mayor’s estate. Remember, together, we will live forever. ” She said and hung up before he had a chance to answer.

  Thomas beat his former boss to the question line. “What was all that about?”

  “Don’t look surprised,” Lotto said and lit his cigar again. “I won’t play second fiddle to anyone in this city, Tommy Boy, not even to the likes of you. After you present your findings on Pandora, Lucy will hold a press conference shedding some light on one of the other key players in this game.”

  “Bernard Lott, tell me that you wouldn’t have this woman fabricate a story to sell newspapers. I hope I know you better than that.”

  Lotto stood again so he could dramatize holding his hand of his heart all the better. “You wound me, Tommy Boy…you wound me.” And then he leaned over his desk so Thomas would not mistake what he heard from an old newspaper editor in chief himself. “Besides, the truth can be far more devastating and more importantly to me…newsworthy than any lie. I’ll let you in on something, Thomas, and I won’t make you sign anything to hear it.” After Thomas exhaled in exasperation, Lotto said, “I’ve received several tips that someone directly involved has not been forthcoming with his background. I hear that this has something to do with directly why we are all involved in this crisis in the first place. Lucy’s tying up some loose ends right now as we speak. I believe this information to be relevant. I believe that it is pertinent. I believe that the public has the right to know. I’m going with it. And you would be too if you were sitting in my chair instead of the one you’re perched in.”

  This time it was the sound of defeat exhaling through Thomas’ nostrils. “Who has Lucy been assigned to do this expose on?” Thomas said. “Whose life is she going to destroy for the sake of increased revenue from advertising ads?”

  “None of it won’t be necessary, Thomas, if you’ll tear up this.” Lotto pushed the contract that he’d signed a few minutes ago, back towards Thomas. The younger man simply shook his head. The older woman laid his head back in recliner and puffed triumphantly on his cigar. The smoke making rings around his clean shaven head. Lotto was already counting this year’s bonus…which wouldn’t fall to far underneath the dollar figure he’d offered Thomas twenty minutes ago.

  “The expose will feature the life and times of…Special Agent Christopher Prince, “The Senior Editor of the Atlanta Times said. “I think you’ve already met his acquaintance.”

  Xavier

  Two members of the Circle sat in Moses Jackson home.

  Xavier Prince heard Warren Washington say, “On behalf of Xavier Prince, myself, and the entire House in Chains extended family, I assure you Ms. Jackson, your son Moses, will be found.

  It was a bold proclamation. But it was not unlike any Xavier Prince had taught his people to say. I wonder if Roxanne Sanchez made a similar vow to you, Chris and Denise before she went off and found my niece…very dead. Grace Edwards had told him this as well two days before. And for a minute he wondered if the liberation of Carver had anything to do with Erica’s demise. Grace assured him otherwise. The condition the young woman’s body had been found it told examiners that it had been in that dumpster for a week or more. And she wasn’t on the Peacekeeper’s list.

  “Uh-huh,” Tracy Jackson mumbled more than said something aloud. She had greeted the two men sitting in her living room and a half dozen more Peacekeepers with a cut off shirt barely hiding her breast and tight jeans. “Marlon, Manning, one of you two get your mamma a beer.”

  The two boys, no older than nine and ten years old, argued about who was going to the refrigerator this time, until Xavier heard the larger pair of dirty sneakers angling towards the kitchen. Tracy fished a broken Newport out of her breast pocket and turned her focus to the two members of the Circle who sat across the coffee table from her.

  “Either of you fancy brothers got a light?”

  Warren fumbled around in his pockets while Xavier leaned over the table with his lighter, Tracy meaning to greet him half way.

  “Tracy,” Felicia, Moses maternal grandmother warned her only daughter. Felicia Jackson was trapped inside of a mostly broken down body but her mind was still sharp…and her tongue had proven sharper since they’d all sat down. “You know you don’t smoke in this house or any other where your children are present. Mr. Prince please put your lighter away, it won’t be needed.”

  Tracy’s quivering hands caused the cigarette to drop to the floor. She got a mix of a sense of urgency and agitation on her dark face. “Wait just a damned minute,” She said. “I don’t have to remind you again whose house this is now right, Mamma?”

  “Of course not, dear,” Felicia Jackson smiled in spite of her child’s disrespectful tone. “More importantly, I don’t have to remind you that these are your children. And you do not smoke around them, especially your youngest who has asthma anyway.”

  Tracy decided to give up the fight for another day, circled the long way around the coffees table away from where her mother was seated, and snatched the cigarette and Xavier’s lighter in one motion.

  “I’ll bring this back.”

  Xavier saw a cloud of blue smoke rise above the younger woman’s shoulder before the screened door slammed shut. Xavier hoped she would keep her word because he didn’t have a spare lighter on him. He stuck a toothpick in his mouth. Warren shifted his gray eyes, focusing his attention on Tracy’s mother. He cleared his throat.

  “As I was saying, we’ve set up dozens of search teams filled with volunteers who are casing the surrounding neighborhoods.”

  Xavier added, “We’ve also established safe houses in most of these same neighborhoods. These residences have been equipped with flashing yellow rotating lights that will run 24 hours a day until these children are found. They also have loudspeakers that have been programmed to repeat each of the four missing boys names individually with a message telling them that it safe to enter homes. When Moses or any of the missing children show, they’ll have a safe haven and a friendly face waiting to either call us or bring them home to you themselves.”

  “Friendly,” She said, her smile never wavering underneath too red of lipstick. “Mr. Prince, how many of your people died at Carver?”

  Xavier shook himself out of a stupor and pushed the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other with the sudden change of subject and the venom for which it was directed at him. She sat back on the worn loveseat, crossed her arms, and awaited his response. Warren sat with his mouth parted open and shifted his eyes back and forth between his leader and Felicia Jackson.

  “There were 12 confirmed souls lost.” He said evenly. “I visited four area hospitals this morning and seven more of our people are listed anywhere from fair condition to still needing intensive care.”

  She nodded as if Xavier were only confirming what she already knew as fact. “And the Choir Boy dead have risen well over 75 or 80 last I heard. There are four Carver residents among the dead as well, with countless others still admitted to those same local hospitals you speak of.”

  Xavier didn’t break her gaze…or blink.

  “That is correct.”

  “Was it all worth it, Mr. Prince?”

  Warren shifted his long frame in his seat. Xavier continued to hold his gaze. Considering the hoops we’ve had to jump with l
ocal and national authorities ever since I would almost say no. But Grace had it handled as she had everything handled. With Admiral Ronald Broward killed in the battle, another man Admiral Ronaldo Darwin, a formal marine in the armed services, fell on his sword for his House. Immediately after Carver had been liberated, he walked into the Atlanta Police Department Headquarters armed only with the black tee shirt, khakis of his Peacekeeper uniform…and an severed Usher’s head with him in a plastic bag. The head belonged to a previously 22 year old man—who was the highest ranking Usher and number three man of the Choir Boys as both The Bishop and his Deacon had escaped them. Darwin put the head on the counter and announced to the second officer who he saw what his own name was, his rank, and that he had authorized this rouge operation out of the knowledge of the Circle or Xavier Prince.

  The second officer called for plenty of backup and took notes has fast as she could. She noted the tags that were attached to this…head and that the authorities would find on all of the skulls that had to be taken took down from the electric wires. Darwin, given his Miranda rights and in cuffs now, explained it all to her as slowly as he could manage. These are forms of ID. Do you people think we just go around and kill just anybody we saw? We have matched the Id’s, social security numbers, and the warrants that were out