by Gary Sapp
used her rifle to point him towards one of the flower pots.
Chris thought it ironic that this room was designed to give life to a recreation of the temple for Ramses II, the Egyptian Pharaoh who set Moses and the Hebrew nation free…only to hunt them down, if the old Bible story could be believed. Now, today, mostly People of Color were waiting to be set free from this building.
Quincy Morgan scooted along the floor past of two sobbing young women and found an open spot amongst the humanity, and sat next to Chris. One of the female guards took notice, but seemed more interested at the length of her fingernails at that moment. Chris only offered her a moment’s glance in return. He only had eyes for Luna Belle and another man Chris did recognized immediately when he first laid eyes on him last night: Benny Stanton, a former ATF guy who Chris had worked together with on an investigation in Alabama a few years back when the latter man was still on the right side of the law.
Luna Belle:
She was an angular and lissome shaped blonde whose hardened gaze seemed fixed permanently on her face.
Benny Stanton:
He was of late middle age with white blonde hair, deep blue eyes and spoke with tied tongue.
When Morgan settled next to Chris the Special Agent said, “My brother would advise against whatever you are planning, Quincy.” Chris said.
“Perhaps,” Morgan said and pushed the penny deep down into his pocket. “We are outnumbered and outgunned, but I take using my small advantages where I can find them. And since you people believe in the chain of command, you’ll understand when I say I’m going to use my seat in The Circle to advocate change to our current status as helpless sheep.”
“Stanton should have issued their demands by now. The wolf wants something or we would all have been killed last night during the initial siege. Yes, they would have all been killed like poor Catherine over there. Chris Prince’s date had been mowed down by the indiscriminate automatic weapon’s fire during the first few minutes of the attack. It was a precipice of the siege. The gunfire was designed to start a mass of people running in a single direction so that Stanton’s team could better control them.
I’m so sorry, Catherine. I never even knew your family name, but it doesn’t mean that I won’t mourn for you when the time is right. He gave her slender figure, her corpse lying face down in a pool of her own blood, one last respectful glance before he turned his attention back to Morgan.
“Negotiations won’t favor these hostages.” Morgan stopped and cursed. “I believe Stanton is acting independent of Serena’s authority.” Chris failed to mask his reaction. “I see you believe that as well. Tennyson’s orders run more direct and straight forward than this operation is being carried out. You were right when you said we should have all been killed last night like that woman you knew lying over there. We weren’t. This whole siege is about the release of James Carter. Stanton is tight with him. They’re trying to exchange the lives of these hostages for the freedom of that racist son of a bitch.”
Chris nodded, Morgan sharing most of his views as well. “Alright, will whoever is still in charge of The Circle release him to Stanton’s custody?”
The veins in Morgan’s neck rippled and he swallowed hard. Yet, there was a sadness that clouded his eye, if only for a second. There had been a change in leadership on The Circle. Chris could feel it. “We are no different than your FBI brethren, Agent Prince. We don’t negotiate with terrorist.” And then for the first time since this conversation began, Morgan looked away. “Anyway, we don’t have Carter or know of his exact whereabouts.”
“Great.”
In the meantime Stanton and Luna Belle nodded at one another, looked directly at the two men, seemingly coming to some type of agreement on how to proceed with an urgent matter. Two of the brunette guards met them along the route and escorted them through the hall of the great room, parting the frightened hostages who gasped and ducked their heads as the group approached and then passed them by, afraid that they would halt their progression where they sat…and would had singled them out for execution.
The group headed straight in line to where Special Agent Christopher Prince and Sargent at Arms Quincy Morgan were seated.
“Listen to me, Chris, because we don’t have much time left. Your brother loves you.” Morgan said. “Men of Color don’t express these feelings to one another enough. I will protect you. He would want that. I’ll make sure that our true enemies regret what they’ve done here today.”
In his mind’s eye Chris could see an embodiment of himself last night. When he first heard the shots rang out and people around him started dying, he’d silently vowed that somehow…someway he would find a way to survive the madness.
Chris Prince had decided that he was going to live.
He was a highly trained FBI Agent, but that hadn’t numbed him from his human traits of fear and anxiety. Life was God’s most precious gift. He wasn’t going to throw his away over a hyper sensed sense of duty or arrogance, or stupidity. He had tossed his concealed weapon into a nearby flower arraignment after a counterattack seemed implausible last night. The location was far enough away that if the gun were found that it couldn’t be tied directly to him, yet close enough to make a run at it if his life depended on its use.
Now he knew he wouldn’t reach the weapon in time.
Stanton stalked over him while the women made a perimeter around him. There would be no escape. “Choo are Christopher Prince. Choo are guilty of being a FBI Agent, choo are guilty of being the lone sibling of our sworn enemy, Xavier Prince, and frankly, choo are guilty of being the unluckiest bastard I know.”
“I am.” He carefully said. “I am all of those things.”
Luna Belle stepped in front of Stanton in one, smooth motion and pointed the barrel of her automatic weapon at his forehead. “You will come with me.”
“Where,” Chris raised his hands, but struggled to keep fear out of his tone. “Where are you taking me?”
Luna Bell disengaged the safety on her trigger in another smooth motion. “You will get you ass up and you will come with me with no questions asked, Agent Prince, or you will die right here, right now, in front of all these people.”
Morgan said, “Why wait?” And then his voice boomed throughout the great room. “What are you waiting for woman? Kill him now.”
What are you doing, Quincy? Why—
Stanton snorted and joined Chris in rolling his eyes at the other man. “Chiss matter doesn’t concern choo, sir. Obviously we are all under a great deal of stress, but why don’t choo dial it back a notch and try to relax.”
“You are beyond incompetent! Serena should have taught you never to make threats that you are unwilling…or unable to carry out.” Morgan stood and waved his arms long and wide like a maniac. “The only way to maintain your control over such a large crowd is through fear. You need to do what you say you will do. If you are to kill this man, then do it right now!”
The hostages went into fervor. There were spasms of crying and one woman screamed for her God to save her. Even the two men who Chris had seen engaging in friendly conversation with Morgan earlier, looked at him with trepidation and uncertainty now.
Belle had had enough and turned the barrel of her weapon away from Chris to a newer, slender target. “Shut up.” She cursed Morgan. “Sit down and shut up or I’ll—“
“Kill me?” Morgan’s laughter roared through the ball room, the hallways, throughout the entire Fox Theatre. Perhaps all of Atlanta heard the man mocking these two to their faces. “I am Quincy Morgan, Sargent at Arms of A House in Chains and I am already dead. Do what you will with my remains. I have taken the mark. I have visualized my people’s future…and I see days filled with misery and pain.”
Chris studied Stanton and Belle as they breach their own protocol and openly argue about how to proceed. He scanned his perimeter and saw the female guards shifting in their stances as if their boots won’t hold them in place much longer. He prayed that Quincy won’t go for Be
lle’s gun, but prepares himself to disarm Stanton or whichever of the guards poses the most immediate threat and defend these remaining hostages if this situation continues to erode…or die trying.
Stanton announces his decision with a tenacity that dares anyone to challenge his authority. “Cheeze that man.” One of the women guards points her weapon at Morgan’s skull while the other uses the barrel of her gun to nudge him towards the back of the room.
“The rest of you strip down, right now.” Luna Belle commanded.
Stanton raises a brow embedded more in curiosity than in anger as his second ushers the command again with more urgency. “What are choo looking for, Luna?”
“I want to know if any more of our guest have taken the mark.” Belle’s tone takes on a more respectful tone. “We should isolate members of A House in Chains from the rest of our captives and execute them first if our demands aren’t met in a timely manner by the FBI.”
Stanton nods silently in agreement.
Christopher Prince struggles to hold his trembling hands still as he forced back into sitting position while he watches Stanton and Belle haul Quincy Morgan towards the back of the theatre…and certain death.
One by one the hostages begin to disrobe. They have gone from losing their freedom to losing their hope to now losing their dignity as piles of clothes litter the great room’s
