by Gary Sapp
there?”
“Of course not,” Serena said dispassionately. In fact this breach of my orders, as you so eloquently put it, saved lives of People of Color because a mission that was never intended to go on nearly as long as it had did just that.” She found the right camera once again. “What I am saying is that Stanton was under my command. His actions are ultimately my responsibility. And Stanton’s and his failings fall directly in that pocket of small minded people we spoke of earlier, Thomas. Pandora would have never bartered, therefore extended those civilian’s suffering, for a hatemonger like James Carter.”
“Let’s talk for a minute about James Carter now that you mentioned him.” Thomas said in a rush. He’d finally gone off script. And Serena knew that her people, specifically Rohm had vacated this theatre of operations, per her orders. And unlike those idiots Stanton and Belle, Shooter had followed orders so far to the letter. “You stated earlier in this interview that Pandora is not blatant hatemongers, yet you ally yourselves with a man like James Carter who has been notorious for exercising bigoted behavior such as being involved in intimidations, lynches, and beatings of People of Color. In fact he is solely responsible for the whip marks that are rumored to be on Xavier Prince’s back right now in some hideous incident when these two men roomed together at Princeton.”
Serena snapped back at him. “Carter and all the people who share his narrow mindlessness will not be welcome once the new world order that the Caretaker died trying to create finally comes into existence.”
Thomas raised his voice to match hers. “And yet, he serves a purpose right now?”
“He does.”
“So you would have us believe—“
“Believe what you will, Thomas.” Serena was standing, and silently cursed both Thomas and herself for her burst of anger. “I’m disgusted with the losses suffered in the Black Community over the past three days. But parents, children, and friends of those who have fallen can be comforted that their loved ones deaths were not in vain. Pandora has suffered losses as well. But we all can bring this…season of death to a close. I have laid out Pandora’s conditions for this to happen, the ball, as they say, is in their court to comply.”
The stopwatch beeped.
Their interview…and their time had come to an end.
Serena sat back on her stool and took the longest pull Thomas had seen from her water and acted as if the heated exchange between them had never occurred. She found the precious center camera, one last time. “I am sure by this point of this broadcast, that members of various law enforcement agencies may feel compelled to act against me. I’m sending out me sternest warning against such a hasty…and futile exercise. Pandora has not left me unprotected against such retaliations. Contrary to what had been written, said, or speculated about me, I have no desire to see needless bloodshed. Allow me to conclude my interview with Thomas Pepper, leave his residence, and return to Pandora without incident, and you have my word that no law enforcement official will be hurt. Defy my wishes and you only have yourselves and your foolish pride to blame for the losses that you will suffer.”
Thomas was still standing, nearly on top of her. Sweat had begun falling from his curly hair. “What is this escalation?” He asked. “Damn you, Serena say something.”
“For years People of Color have wanted the answer to the same three questions: Who killed President Adolphus Sweet? Who is The Caretaker? And what is the Whirlwind?” Serena said in a monotone voice. “Three days ago, Pandora answered the one question that had been brewing for several months: What is the 411?” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, blocked out how cold she really was and filled her thoughts with the warmth and love of the Dragon. “It is highly probable that I will be dead soon. What is more important is that in after the days that I am gone, after I am caught up in the Rapture of the Dragon, that you, People of Color have turned away from wickedness, turned away from you vile leaders.”
Serena walked off of the set at a steady pace while the cameras still rolled on. She only quickened it after she heard the first explosion in the distance. Thomas nearly fell to the floor and looked around wildly. She picked up a yellow rose from off of the shelf where she had left it the previous night when Pandora first started its incursion of Thomas’ home.
She placed the yellow rose on an empty space on the table inches in front of the camera and then takes her place next to a shaken Thomas who takes an involuntarily step back from her positioning. She finds the center camera and a subtle, dignified calm in her tone once again. “If you choose to side with the likes of Xavier Prince, the Circle and A House in Chains, then this local community will have a new, pressing question to ask. Thank you for your time and attention.”
“What?” Thomas said stupidly and turned the cameras off as a second explosion erupts, one whose epicenter was closer than the first.
They sprinted up the stairs, returning to Thomas’ main living quarters. And though the temperature is instantly ten degrees warmer than that in the basement, Serena can barely contain her trembling. Thomas seems to be oblivious, or he is occupied with the detonations occurring outside.
“What in the hell are these explosions, Serena?”
Serena begins to unbutton her blouse. “As I said, Pandora was prepared for my peaceful exodus from your townhouse, Thomas. It is apparent that A House in Chains is not the only association not heeding my words these days.”
A third explosion, this one the loudest and closest to his townhouse, rocks the building’s foundation, breaks his living room windows, and knocks both of them to his wooden floor.
“God almighty, what is that?”
“I had every street that leads to this residence mined.” Serena stopped long enough to unbuckle her pants and fold them neatly on top of her jacket and blouse. She kicks off her flats. “The last few explosions you heard were the ones laid closest to this property. There were a dozen or more scattered about the five mile radius. They were activated only after I made my plea to the authorities not to come here. I told you, Thomas, Pandora values civilian life.”
“God almighty,” Was all that Thomas Pepper could offer as he neared tears.
Serena turned her back on him, unfastened her sheer bra and stepped out of her white cotton panties. She could feel the man in Thomas staring at what men stared at in nude women, her long legs, her curt but shapely buttocks…but she guessed through all of his lustful thoughts that he gazed longest and hardest at the tattoo of the Dragon that encompassed her entire back, featuring the Dragon’s tongue licking the side of her neck.
When she spun back around, Thomas verified her theory two fold as he sat on his wooden floor with an astonished look plastered on his bearded face.
They both heard the blades of a helicopter beginning to hover somewhere outside of his dining room window.
“What am I doing?” She asked the question out loud of what he must have been thinking at the moment. I’m doing what all field generals must do in wartime when the battle is lost.” She lay flat on her nonexistent stomach and spread arms as wide as each extremity would go. “I’m surrendering so I can live to fight another day.” She looked up long enough to make eye contact with him. “Although you are not the object of the FBI’s attention or wraith, I advise you to undress as I have. They may not enter this place with the idea of restraint in their hearts.”
Thomas must have figured her for being right, because he undressed as quick as his sizeable fingers allowed and joined her…at a cautious distance on the hard wood floor.
She could hear the first wave of men pushing up the stairs. Thomas must have heard it too because he tried to bury his face as far the unforgiving floor would allow him. Perhaps this is a suicide, Serena thought about Pilot’s words when the first pang of fear hit her in the chest. At least her fear had a warm element to it as she felt it rush though the rest of her body.
“Am I all that you thought I would be, Thomas?”
“What?” Thomas asked as she heard three, four, and
uncountable number of vehicles breaking at street level. The chopper had taken residence outside of the front window now.
“What did you day?”
She poked her head up again and pointed her chin in the direction of Thomas’ spare bed room that served as an office. “I’ve been waiting here for you to arrive last night. I made myself at home. I saw the office…the pictures that you’ve clipped from magazines and printed off of the internet. You have many that even I didn’t even know existed of me. It is quite an impressive shrine.”
He reddened from either embarrassment or fear. “We are the beautiful and the bold,” He finally said as heavy footsteps push their way to the top of the stairway.
Agents of the FBI announced their obvious presence and have busted down his door by the sentence conclusion. Three…four…ten armed agents pour into his townhouse with pistols and rifles drawn in every direction. A dozen more agents slide in behind them once an alley was created. Serena was sure that Thomas never knew his place could ever fit so many human beings inside its walls.
Special Agent Christopher Prince is amongst the second wave of FBI who entered the townhouse.
“Agent, Prince, welcome.” Serena announces conversationally. He, like most of the men in this room, wearing the cursed vest with FBI stenciled on the back.
