Zero Hour: Where are our Children (A Serial Novel) Episode 5 of 9

by Gary Sapp

darkness.

  “Ernestine once told me privately that she considered you an immoral man, Thomas Pepper. But I remember that she said that men like you were amongst the most trustworthy because they knew exactly who they were. They knew what they wanted.” Xavier said. “She was right about you, Thomas. And because of that I have a greater respect for you right at this moment than I ever did before now. You honored my friend’s memory.”

  “Respect?”

  “You gave up the life of this reporter before you asked me for the extension. You couldn’t know if I would have accepted your terms or not. I don’t think any reasonable man would have. I respect your boldness, your courageousness and your audacity. Only an immoral man could have even attempted to pull off what you have pulled off.”

  A half an hour later Thomas had been returned to the street where the café from which this entire episode had originated. For the most part it looked like a normal Sunday night crowd of people drinking, eating and shopping before setting off to a another work week.

  Thomas looked as far as his eye could see. He saw Grace Edwards doing the same. Eventually their eyes met. Could we possibly be thinking the same thing, Grace?

  Thomas believed that many people in this crowd must think that if any rioting or social unrest comes to Atlanta that it would likely be centered in predominately Black neighborhoods as it did during the Rodney King and President Adolphus Sweet riots of years past.

  Grace handed him what was left of his torn jacket. She told him to bill her for a new one.

  Thomas said: “I hope for your sake that Xavier doesn’t trust Warren or any former members of the New Black Panther Party.”

  “We don’t.” Grace said. Thomas wondered—and not for the first time—was there any scenario or condition that this woman hadn’t covered to its most minute detail. “I’m aware of the danger that they represent to my Number One and I’ve taken the precautionary steps to deal with those threats.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Thomas folded his jacket over his arm and began his preliminary search for where he’d parked his Jaguar. “Excuse me for being blunt, Miss Edwards, but I know your work. And I must admit I’m a bit surprised that you haven’t had Warren eliminated already.”

  Grace smiled. “You aren’t the only one who has had to deal with what seemed to be unprovoked physical confrontations in the streets, Mr. Pepper. How do you think he got that patch over his one eye? I’m sure that I count on you keeping that information from being quoted again on your blog.”

  “Of course,” Thomas suddenly felt even less comforted. Just that small detail that Grace had disclosed to him reminded him what lethal company he was keeping at the moment.

  “Thanks for arranging the meeting with your Number One. Well, I guess that I should go while I still have the chance. I don’t want to be active on anyone’s hit list.”

  “Until you handed Xavier access to your colleague Lucy Burgess,” Grace said conversationally. “You were near the top of his.”

  Chris

  The administrator of the Atria Busch Assisted Living Center, a Black woman with her pants squeezing her hips and her eyebrows painted on her forehead, greeted Christopher Prince as he entered the building. She told him that Helen had informed her of his impending arrival and started to escort him through a series of doors and hallways towards the back.

  Chris had shrugged her niceties off. He instructed her in no certain terms to point to where this woman ‘Helen’ was. When the administrator failed to answer right away and the look on her face transformed from a considerate one to a confused one to downright conflicted one at Chris’ tone and disposition—Chris pulled out his shield. I’m already in plenty of hot water for not turning in government property in a timely manner so what the hell. He informed her that he was acting on behalf of the FBI and demanded that she point him in the direction of the woman who had invited him and leave the two of them to their business.

  Ten minutes later Chris found Serena Tennyson wearing a guise of this created persona named Helen waiting for him in a back room.

  She was wearing a dark wig and darker shades. She began to open her mouth to greet him…when he backhanded her.

  He had his weapon drawn but down at his side. He’d walked into this facility prepared to fight a dozen or hundreds of Pandora agents that had been sent to ambush him. What would my death matter now? He still believed that all life was precious, especially his own, but perhaps he’d been destined all along to go out with a bang.

  Christopher Prince had searched his whole life for a sign that he would receive absolution for all of his past sins.

  He now doubted that this sign would ever come.

  So why not check out by his own terms? And if he had enough skills left and if he were terribly lucky, perhaps he’d take some of these Pandora bastards with him into the afterlife and let a higher power sort their irreconcilable differences all out then.

  By the time Chris had kicked Serena in her lean side a second time something clicked from just under the surface of his conscious that told him that she indeed had come alone.

  He began to tire nonetheless.

  The adrenaline that he’d entered this room with had abandoned him. He then had an absurd thought. At least you won’t have to worry about losing weight any longer…he was surely a dead man when Pandora came for their retributions.

  “Agent Prince,” Serena found enough energy to roll away from his abuse. She sat up quickly and arched her back against a nearby wall. “Listen to me; I can’t stop you from killing me.”

  “I think that’s the first thing that you’ve ever said that I totally agree with.”

  A cleaning woman who smelled of cheap perfume and talcum powder rolled her cart around a corner. She stopped the cart’s squeaking long enough to take a peek at what was going on.

  Chris flashed his invalid shield again. “You are potentially interfering with a federal investigation, lady. I would mind my business if I were you.”

  After the cart squeaked off Chris holstered his gun and approached the sitting Serena once again. He revved his right foot back with the full intention to place kick a tremendous shot to the woman’s forehead—when she implored him to stop with the palm of her hand.

  “Agent Prince,” Serena cried out. “Allow me the final word before you carry on.”

  “What could you possibly say that I would want to hear, woman.” He lowered his gaze. Serena’s fit build had been the only thing that had saved her from true injury already. He could kill her at any moment. He had promised himself that if the opportunity had presented itself that he would do just that. “I would think that you were far too proud or far too arrogant to beg for your life, even after all of those you’ve willingly destroyed. And again, there is nothing else you could possibly say that I want to hear—so let’s get on to the business of getting you to your flames in the afterlife.”

  “Why don’t you try me, Agent Prince?” Serena asked him. “What do either one of us have to lose by listening to what I have to say.”

  Chris squatted down, but kept his distance. She was still Serena Tennyson. And no matter how helpless she appeared, he considered her armed and dangerous until after she exhaled her last breath.

  “You are the leader—or at the least—one of the leaders of a racist organization that has killed hundreds of innocents and threatened thousands more. You’ve befriended a man who once kidnapped me and now is likely molesting young Black children like he did to those boys who were captured with me.” He caught his breath and willed himself to dial his emotions back a notch before he collapsed from hyperventilating. “You’ve tried to have my brother killed. Now, I’m sure that you had a lot to do with discrediting me by aiding in releasing lies about me into the street at this precious hour.”

  Serena’s laugh held no humor. “I have been busy haven’t I?”

  “You know what…” Chris cocked his gun and pointed it at her. A crowd of onlookers must have heard what was going on and had gathe
red inside the double doors. He heard them muttering, chattering and whispering. Someone specifically spoke his name, but just as importantly, three or four voices mentioned Serena Tennyson’s name aloud as well.

  Good information for his defense lawyer to use in his murder defense months down the road.

  Serena Tennyson was far too dangerous to allow her to keep living.

  Christopher Prince had decided to kill her tonight.

  “You are the one empowered here, Chris.” Serena said in her indoor voice. “My life is truly in your hands. But so is his location. If you act foolishly then it will be the most selfish act you’ve ever committed. You’ll be hurting yourself and your brother Xavier. Your brother would want to know the truth as well.”

  It was Chris’ turn to laugh without humor necessary to make it genuine.

  “Alright,” Raindrops of sweat poured down his bald head. He wiped it with the butt end of his gun. “Alright, we’ll do it your way, Serena. We will hear one more line of your precious bullshit before I send you off to Hell.”

  “I know where your father is.”

  The world went silence.

  The world went still.

  “Good God, woman,” Chris managed to say at last. “Do you have any common thread of decency at all? Is there no limit or shame to what you will say or do?”

  Serena eased her way to her feet. She straightened out her blouse and slacks. Chris heard her crack her long neck.