by Gary Sapp
handed the Warden a radio anyway. Xavier took it and turned to channel four.
“What are you doing, Prince?” The Warden wanted to know. “Who in the hell are you calling?”
“Backup,” Xavier grinned. “Julian has his plans. I have mine.”
The Warden listened as Xavier disguises his voice, making it darker, richer as if he were of Mexican or Columbian decent and called for a guard named Evans.
Xavier completed a list of commands in Latin.
The man, Evans, on the other end responded in Latin as well, Xavier turned the dial to the off position and handed the radio back to the warden.
Warden Bright was struggling to keep his mouth closed and the look of astonishment off of his brow. “Who was that? What did you tell him?”
“Lieutenant Vincent Evans has been one of the most decorated guards at this and other state facilities for over 25 years. In the past year, however, he has taken the mark of A House in Chains…he has visualized our people’s future and wishes to amend what he has saw.”
“God, Almighty,” Was all the warden could manage. After another second spent in disbelief he asked, “Are you going to share with me what you said to him?”
Xavier looked to each side to make sure the bucktoothed man who had brought the radio had returned to his post and that no other guard was coming. “I instructed Evans to gather up more help…more Peacekeepers, and search every crack and crevice of the western wing of the promenade and the first floor. Carter’s men still don’t know that I am not leaving per schedule. I would have had to exit through those sectors to complete my processing before my official release.”
Yet, Warden Bright only could find the energy, the resolve to rest his bigger frame on the opposite wall from where Xavier had paused only minutes earlier. “How many are there,” The Warden asked. “I want you to tell me how many of the state’s men…how many of my men share your vision of the future, Prince?”
“Enough,” Xavier said and pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth. I need a cigarette. “What is more important to you right now is that these prison guards know the layout of Calhoun better than Julian and his followers do. And I’m convinced that James Carter’s hoods are where I say that they are. But we still have to find them. And whether it is because of an itchy trigger finger of one of Julian’s Black Knights, or the imminent incursion by The Georgia National Guard and State Police, we are running out of time, Warden.”
The warden shrugged. “Did you and Julian come to some type of agreement after I left to speak with the outsiders? Did you two already decide Carter’s men’s fates before they are even found?”
“We agreed that if I found them first that I would decide their outcome. Those men’s lives belong to me in Julian’s eyes anyway.” Xavier felt the other man glaring down at him “I never told him exactly what I do if I found them first, Bright. But it was the best solution that I could come up with at the time.” He said and started to walk again—
The warden grabbed him by the forearm, but as soon as he gained his attention, he aptly let go. “I don’t get this. I have to ask you the same question Julian did back in the library…whose side are you on, Prince?” Xavier only answered by swerving the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “I believe that horrible tale Julian narrated to the room back in the library. I believe that Carter’s men had their sights on killing you later on today as you left the prison. What I don’t believe is that you will find these men and simply let them…walk away from all this and potentially anger the Black Knights and allow those hostages to be harmed.”
Xavier jumped in the other man’s face. Warden Bright must have seen a handful of guards reach for their sidearm and screamed at the men to put their guns away. “I’m not siding with you, Warden.” Xavier chewed on the toothpick and willed himself to take a half a step backwards. “I am trying to protect the lives of those civilians who have been threatened, if only partially, in my name. I want to lessen the chances that they will be slaughtered if we don’t find Carter’s goons first. I’ll worry about the ramifications, all the rest, once we’ve accomplished that much.”
“I get it now,” Warden Bright said three intersections and down a flight of stairs later. “In truth you don’t really give a damn about those civilians. This is all about you. This is about politics and protecting the image of your precious little House in Chains.”
Xavier snorted. “Of course, politics plays a role in every decision I make, Warden. You work in a governing position. You should know this.” He ran a hand through his short mane of hair, forcing himself to remain calm. They had loss enough time as it was. “Militant behavior should never be the first option for A House in Chains. My father taught me that when he was the One. He taught his followers to exhaust any and all other avenues before we turn to violence.”
“And your friend, Julian Moore, I don’t think all of the skulls and crossbones tattooed to his body comfort me into believing he shares you or your father’s views.”
“Julian’s been a gang banger for as long as he can remember.” Xavier admitted to the other man. “The stories he told me…he fights, he kills, and he does these things because he hasn’t learned how to do anything else. I will tell you that he has grown at least a little bit, because if he had not, then those hostages up there would already be dead.” It was Xavier’s turn to grab the warden’s wrist, but only to check the time on his watch. “Warden, we need to move. We have unexpected allies, but time is not on our side.”
“I know…but…” The warden placed a hand on each hip and shook his head in disbelief.
“What?”
“Like I told you in my office earlier, I’ve been in this game a long time and I thought that I’ve saw it all. I’ve seen men find truth and clarity locked inside these walls. I’ve seen men find sorrow for their victims and empathy for the families that have been left behind. I’ve seen hundreds of men find Jesus—if only because they had nothing else to do while they served out their sentence.” Warden Bright said. “And yet, Julian Moore found you.”
Just then, a stocky guard Xavier hadn’t remembered seeing before during his incarceration at Calhoun ran up to them with a rifle in his hand. “Warden Bright, is that you, sir?”
“It is, Sargent.” Warden Bright said to the man. “Report,”
“Lieutenant Evans and a group of four or five other officers are engaged in some type of standoff with some unidentified inmates on the promenade. Before I left to find you I saw a cluster of Black Knights closing on the section as well. Julian Moore was with them. If you’ll follow me sir…”
When the three of them arrived on the promenade Xavier noted that Evans men, those who had accepted the mark of A House in Chains, had barricaded themselves between Carter’s men and Julian’s Black Knights who were arriving in force on the scene. One butter ball of man, with his head nearly between his knees gasping for oxygen, had proclaimed that Julian’s people had found Carter’s men first.
“Liar,” Warden Bright shouted loud enough that every man on this floor knew that he and Xavier had arrived. “These prison officers are friends of A House in Chains. They share Xavier’s vision for their people.”
Julian walked, ever slowly towards where Warden Bright and Xavier Prince had made their stand. “I don’t see it that way, Warden.” He grinned for the first time that Xavier could remember since this crisis began. “I do see that my men out number your men, what, four to one—five to one.”
Xavier slid smoothly between the warden and Julian Moore. He said: “Stand down, Julian. This is over. You have been a thug. You have been a murderer who has killed without thought or conscious. Don’t be a liar as well.”
Julian stretched his amazingly large eyes to a full bulge, and Xavier inwardly braced himself to be struck by this gang banger that he had learned to call a friend and an ally in this hell hole.
Julian simply said, “Respect of self, Xavier…respect of family, and finally of community, yes I can
recall your words to me as if you said them a minute ago.”
“Then stand down, Julian,” Xavier placed his right hand on a tattooed shoulder and rubbed at a particular area of skin that showcased the mark of A House in Chains amongst all the other body art. “You told me that if I found Carter’s men first and Evans is my man, then we had an agreement that their lives…or deaths as it may be, belong to me.”
“I told you that I wasn’t worthy of a seat in your house.” Julian said in a remorseful tone. “I’m not as strong as you are, Xavier. I can’t let go of what was done to you before. I can’t push the thought out of my mind when we learned what they were planning to do to you on this day.” Julian’s voice cracked. “I’m no better than James Carter or these other fools locked up in here. I can’t let go of my hate for them.”
Xavier hugged the other man then and gave his wiry frame a brotherly squeeze. “I’m here for you, Julian. I’m here. There is no need for you to avenge me. You can’t retaliate for a murder that has yet to occur.”
Julian returned Xavier’s embrace and cried for a long time.
And then he pushed the other man away and cocked his pistol once more.
“You are a great man, Xavier Prince. You are the man that I wish that I could be.” He said “But you are wrong today. These men are too