by Gary Sapp
It is the one that she has loathed so much when she slaved for the bureau all those years before Pandora summoned her to serve, before The Caretaker called her home. “Your brother must surrender to the authorities at Calhoun Prison. Time is short. If you want to truly serve your people. You will make your younger sibling comply, his time, all of our time is running out.”
Christopher Prince and the room full of agents seem to be almost mesmerized by her words. She used the silence to her advantage. “I’ve said enough for now. I’d like to evoke my right of silence as it is presented under The United States Constitution.”
“Whatever you say,” Agent Prince kept his gun trained on Serena’s forehead as he spoke to a younger female who was just arriving through the open space where the front door once stood. He scanned the room, snatched Thomas Pepper’s jacket off of the floor and through it across her buttock and the upper part of her legs. “Agent Blue, read this woman her rights, stand her up, and get her dressed and then get her the hell out of here.”
Agent Blue does as she is commanded and cuffs Serena quickly. Prince helps her to her feet while another female agent shields her womanhood from view.
Four agents begin to escort her from the front while two more agents join Prince and the two women behind her.
Three male agents are helping poor Thomas Pepper to his feet. He looks as he has some of his curly hair has fallen out, and as if he has lost five pounds since before the interview began. There are dark circles under his eyes. “Serena?” He calls out to her and then: “Serena,” He said again with enough urgency to stop her…and the FBI agents in their tracks. “No more games,” Thomas said “Tell me…tell us what is this new pressing question that People of Color will be asking in the days to come. Tell us now,” Thomas pleaded, Serena thinking she did see tears misting in his eyes. He was weak. Outside of men like Caretaker and her father, they were all so weak. Still, she had nearly gotten the man killed in his own home, so he was entitled to something out of this deal. He deserved to know. They all deserved a chance to know the truth. So she lifted her head high enough so everyone in the room could see another yellow rose resting on top of Thomas’ artificial fireplace where she kept company with the Dragon while she waited on him to return home.
“A yellow rose,” Thomas said in a low voice, but everyone in the room was perfectly still, they could all hear. “A yellow rose stands for sympathy. You said it was to be another localized event. Who do People of Color in Atlanta need sympathy for, Serena?”
“Themselves,” Serena said. “What is the 411 is now in the past. What is The Whirlwind is in our probable future…but for now the immediate question they all will be asking is, where are our children?”
Xavier
“It’s alright, I’ve been expecting them,” Julian Moore waved Xavier Prince, Warden Donald Bright, and Rose Dixon towards the crude checkpoint of file cabinets and high chairs with his pistol. “Shake them down, make sure they aren’t armed and then let them through.”
Julian Moore:
He was a brown skinned, wiry shaped Black man, whose eyes were large and very intense. He was tattooed from neck to foot and wore too much hair on his head for Xavier’s taste.
He’d chosen an ideal location here down on the South end of the first floor for keeping these hostages safe, but well secured. The library was Calhoun’s oldest structure in an already aged composition more wide than deep, with ten foot ceilings and was windowless as far as Xavier could see. He himself had spent many hours in this place during his in incarceration. This morning, Xavier could have lived without the musty smell that reminded him of old socks waiting to be washed in the laundry room. He tugged at his tunic as well; damn, you would have chosen the only area in this whole prison that gets consistently warm this time of year, it is steaming down here. Xavier knew that this zone set right on top of the prison’s furnace. And Julian had his people intentionally turn the gage up to its highest setting.
Julian’s Black Knights admitted Xavier and the others after an intense round of pat downs. Xavier heard one man, whose chest hair pushed up out of his tee shirt yell, what in the hell he was doing here? Xavier was unsure whether the question was directed at him or the warden. The hostages, and it looked to be near a dozen civilians and a host of Calhoun’s guards among them, were bound, gagged, stripped of all clothing except their under clothes and being kept together on the floor of the Fiction section of the Reading Library, packed tight and undignified in some type of cage.
“Julian,” The wiry man lay his gun down on the table and embraced him like a brother. “What are we doing?”
“We wanted to see you before you left for Atlanta, left here for freedom.”
“I was told that you demanded that I take part in any negotiation.”
Xavier planted a hand on each hip and rolled his eyes back at the warden who was shifting in his stance and finding something more interesting to look at on the dirty carpet. So you lied to my face, Donald. Even in Warden Bright’s darkest hour he was still cool, the ice still flowed through his veins. Circumstance had certainly dictated that Xavier would never call this man a friend, but he could respect the way he carried himself.
“I couldn’t accept a release with these people’s lives hanging in the balance.” Xavier would play the warden’s game, at least a little while longer. He turned his focus back to Julian. “I needed to stay around long enough to see you get through this.”
Julian flashed his associates a look, perhaps 20 armed men in this room alone. “I tried to convince them to wait a few days longer, but the visitation from the Georgia State Council on Prisoner Safety and Welfare was too ironic, and to great an opportunity to let pass. And Riot’s Last Gleaming was upon Calhoun at last.” Julian said and raised his pistol high to the ceiling. The other prisoners cheered loudly.
The warden stepped in behind them after the applause died down. “Let’s cut to the chase shall we gentlemen?” He said in a low voice. “You two know that I can’t allow this…this insurrection to stand.” He lowered his tone even further when he addressed Julian directly. “Inmate Moore, I must demand that that you release those state employees and prison guards into my custody immediately, return Calhoun to my control, and then return peacefully to your cells while you still can.”
A dozen black Knights laughed behind them.
Julian’s tone matched the wardens. “You aren’t in a position to demand anything here…sir.”
Warden Bright pushed past Xavier and Julian and then two Black Knights to where the hostages were being held. Half a dozen inmates trained their guns on him and Rose Dixon took a large step forward as if she would defend her warden…or die trying. Julian raised his right hand in the air for peace. He knew the warden’s actions were truly of no consequence here.
“Is everyone here okay?” Warden Bright squeezed the bars with his fingers. “Does anyone need medical attention?” The ten men and two women made eye contact with him as best they could, but all shook their heads. The prison guards were being kept closer towards the copy room. “I need each and every one of you to trust me. I am searching for a way to secure your release as soon as possible.” One of the women started crying, her pleas muffed by the gag over her mouth. “Be strong for your families. I won’t let you die here. You have my word on that.”
Julian hopped up on a desk and sat down. “Then, Warden, you must be prepared to give in to our demands.” He said. “This prison that you inherited is a hell hole. You are a Prince of the damned.”
“Look…Julian is it?” Xavier watched the Black Knight nod. “I’ve read my predecessors logs. Warden Fain’s decade long rule here was nothing short of a travesty, to say the least. That, in part, is the reason I was brought in.” Bright took his place next to Xavier and Rose Dixon. “But you haven’t given my administration a chance to settle in. We haven’t had a fair opportunity to fix what’s broken here.” He pointed towards the cage, the hostages hanging on his every word. “This gets us nowhere.”
Rose said, “The National Guard and The Georgia State Police are in route as we speak, Inmate Moore. What kind of mood do you think they will be when they arrive and find out that not only that you have taken state employees hostage, but have them caged like common animals?”
“Look at the concern etched on my face, fat girl.” Julian gleefully hopped down off the desk again. Xavier had known the man almost from the day he started his sentence. This wasn’t an act, but Julian had been known to let his passions govern his thinking patterns. He turned his large eyes on Xavier. “You should have gotten the hell out of this place when you had the chance, bro.” He said to Warden Bright. “And beyond our grievances we have nothing to talk about.”
The warden cautiously pulled Julian’s list out of his shirt pocket and read some of the list aloud so that the hostages specifically could hear them. “Every issue on your list is solvable or at least correctable, given adequate time an attention.”
“Time’s running low,” Julian sprinted over to the cage and waved his pistol at the state workers. “These good folks over here don’t have a lot of time.”
Xavier swallowed hard. Up into this point he had been satisfied to lie back in the background of this crisis and observe. Now that he had