Chapter Six
Look, don’t get me wrong, Seth Dupree is a brilliant young surgeon. I’m honored to work under his tutelage, but the man seems almost aloof sometimes. He constantly acts like he is distracted or something. And I believe that the something may cost one of his patients his life someday.
-Two male nurses converse during an afternoon break outside the Georgia Dome’s Emergency Triage Center Exercise.
Thomas
The Office of the Georgia Bureau of Investigations, 6th Day
Lindsey Harmon Attorney at Law:
She was a slender former beauty with dark circles loitering underneath her green eyes. She had laugh lines boarding the corners of her mouth she reeked of stale cigarette smoke from her red hair and beige suit.
Thomas Pepper hoped for his sake that she knew her way around the law better than she did the bedroom. So far, so good, he thought, she seemed to be holding her own for round two against both of the FBI agents crowding him in this stuffy interrogation room.
Agent Tabitha Blue was about ten years to young…and by her naked ring finger, too single for his liking, but he couldn’t deny the woman a certain sex appeal. She tried to bury it behind her tough talk and that badge clipped to her hip.
And the fact that she may be attempting to link him to Serna Tennyson and Pandora wasn’t enduring him to her either.
“I was speaking to you about time, Agent Blue, especially in light of how much of my client’s that you and your partner are wasting with this so called interview with him.” Lindsey was giving her hell. “You have Atlanta citizens who have been slaughtered. Our esteemed Mayor has been assassinated. And now, there is some type of unknown threat that has been lodged at the children of this city. My client’s home was broken to, he did this interview with Serena Tennyson fearing for his life, and you two are busy trying to tie him to these terrorist.” She paused for effect, her wrinkled finger flicking a pencil back in forth. “Am I missing something here?”
“We’re trying to cover all of our bases, Counselor.” Agent Blue said. “I’m not sure why he even felt the need to call you at all. We are just having a quiet, civilized conversation.”
“Civilized,” Lindsey inhaled audibly and peeked over at Agent Prince who was sitting on the other side of the table, his legs dangling off of the floor. He was playing the role of The Good Cop in this game. “This conversation stopped being civilized, as you say, a long time ago.” His attorney used the pencil to flip through her notes and added: “Furthermore, Agent Blue, I see no formal charges lying on this table in front of us. So my client is exercising his rights to exit these proceedings at the time of his choosing. Either we move along to a different line of questioning or we will walk. Have I made myself clear, lady? ”
Blue smiled, highlighting her overbite, reached back, and handed Agent Prince a slim pile of documents. Thomas couldn’t see what they were…and not for a lack of trying. Prince scanned them without taking them. If it didn’t involve him directly, he would actually find this interplay quite fascinating in fact. Thomas knew hundreds of law enforcement across the country, this good cop/bad copy routine wasn’t a new thing, but the way it was playing out was something else entirely. Blue and Prince were more along the lines of impatient cop/ distracted cop. Since they’d reentered the room a few minutes ago, Prince had settled for sitting like a hermit on the other side of the table with a look of…preoccupation buried on his dark, hairless brow. He’d even gone as far to ignore two phone calls that had buzzed in his pocket.
“Okay Miss Harmon, you’ve made your point, let’s move on then.” Blue dropped those same documents within Lindsey’s grasp. Thomas’ mouth went dry and he felt a gnawing in his gut. “It has already been established that your client is at least of questionable character and these papers prove it.”
“What are these?” His attorney asked.
“The first one is a DUI. The next two are separate disorderly conduct citations.”
Thomas hopped out of his seat.
“What is this really about?” He asked. He snatched the papers from Lindsey who was pleading with him with her green eyes to sit back down and let her handle this. “The DUI was in college. I was a kid. These other charges were five and ten years ago.”
Blue pushed another sheet of paper with a government letterhead at him. “This audit done by our sister agency, The IRS, was just two years ago.”
“Again, that’s old news.” Lindsey chimed in from her seat. “My firm handled this case—
“And I’ve paid that money back, with interest.” Thomas stuck his hands in his pocket.
“In legal terms this is all ancient history, Agent Blue.” Lindsey scratched at the back of her left ear with her fingernail. Thomas knew from past experience that she was getting irritable and needed a cigarette. She gathered all her notes in a pile and rose to leave.
“I do in fact.” Blue thumbed methodically through a separate file of papers, sensing his attorney’s inpatients, for exactly what she wanted. “And in fact, knowing your client’s reputation, this doesn’t surprise me a bit. I have a sexual harassment claim against Mr. Pepper by a female columnist he worked with at The Washington Post back in January while they completed an expose.”
Thomas found his seat without looking at it, his anger hovering dangerously prevalent near the surface. “We worked jointly on the piece that ran in the paper over four consecutive weeks.” He said. “I wasn’t in DC for very long.”
Blue smiled, “That means you had to work really fast, Thomas. The harassment—“
“The harassment consisted of us going out and having a few drinks…a few sessions. She thought it was the start of something more permanent. She was wrong.”
“Thomas Pepper, she filed for divorce from her husband in the short time while you were in Washington.”
“Their marriage was already on the rocks, Agent Blue.” Thomas rubbed at the two day old beard on his face.”
“You’ll see two separate files for files of divorce, two more requests for legal separation, and half a dozen claims and counter of claims of domestic battery. That relationship was in shambles. Someone should thank Mr. Pepper for providing a public service by helping to finish sinking a ship that had been treading water.” Although Thomas could have lived without her last comment, Lindsey was doing his person and his wallet justice. “We’re done here.” Lindsey began to rise again.
“One last thing, Counselor,” Blue flashed her overbite again. Lindsey bobtailed into her seat, her smoke break denied again. Thomas fluttered in his seat, perspiration building along his thick neck and under his arms.
This time she slid some colored photos at Lindsey. She directed her conversation at Thomas. “After we apprehended Serena Tennyson and started our investigation, we took these pictures inside your townhouse.”
The FBI had dozens of pictures of his wall that he had dedicated to Serena Tennyson’s likeness. He had magazine clippings, artist renditions, internet postings, and the entire works there now apparently, for the entire world to see.
Lindsey was shaking her head. “What my client does in his place of residence—“
“It’s not just these pictures that I want you to see, Counselor.” Agent Blue supplied a packet apparently with more photos and dumped the stash on table, so many in fact that many fell to the floor. “This is the picture of the woman in Washington, DC, do you see the resemblance between her and Serena Tennyson. Look at the picture of this woman, Miss Harmon, who Thomas has been seen with socially on his frequent visits back to his hometown in Chicago. Again, the striking resemblance to the woman we have locked up in here.”
In the next five minutes Agent Tabitha Blue flashed three more women who shared at least some of Serena’s features or characteristics of pastel colored skin, a slim frame, long legs, or red hair…like even the style Lucy Burgess had worn for a time when they first began their affair.
“Even you share some of these features, Miss Harmon?” Agent Blue said a
s a matter of fact. “You’re a smart woman, Counselor. You weren’t out of line when you reminded me of what has transpired over the past few days. It is my job to help prevent more atrocities like these from occurring. And part of my job is questioning if this man has deeper ties to the most ruthless woman in the entire world right now?”
“My client is not the subject on your investigation.” Lindsey’s tone hardened with each word. “Furthermore, his private life, who he see, who he sleeps with, their marital status, and what these women look like are not your business—“
“It’s alright,” Thomas squeezed his lawyer’s wrist and focused all his attention and energy on Agent Blue. “I’ll take this one.”
Lindsey was still shaking her head, her green eyes cutting at him, reminding him to tread carefully; there was blood in the water…blood and a hungry shark.
“I’m attracted to Serena Tennyson. The shrine I’ve dedicated to her in my home speaks to that.” Thomas said. “And, in some cases, I have fraternized with women—especially involved women who share some of her features. I am a man who is energized by the prospect of bedding forbidden fruit.” The most immoral of men are often the most honest. They have a clear understanding of who they are. Mayor Ernestine Johnson had said in truth to him from her dying bed. They know what they want, and they prepare to sacrifice whatever they feel is necessary, even if it’s their very souls, to get what they want. “Though Serena isn’t married, her status in the world makes her the most forbidden fruit of all in my eyes.” His own inner voice said wistfully, you had me pegged correctly, Ernestine, I am indeed an immoral man.
“But, as you have pointed out, I am not hurting for female company and while I am attracted to Serena, that alone doesn’t mean that I subscribe to her religion… ” He locked eyes with Christopher Prince, who looked awakened from his stupor. “ Or do I share Pandora’s view on race relations in this country.”
“That, mister, remains to be seen.”
“I object to your tone, Agent Blue.”
“This isn’t a courtroom, Counselor.”
“And you are no lawyer and this is not a trial—“
“You’re both right,” Agent Prince hopped over the table and pushed his way just behind his partner. “Councilor, your client claimed that he wanted to help us save this city, perhaps this country, from any further escalation and bloodshed.” He leaned over and caught Thomas eye specifically. “You’re our man, Pepper. So help us out of this mess.”
Thomas scratched at his beard again and took a deep breath. Blue sat with on the table with her arms folded, while Agent Prince remained standing, his gaze intense. This was the Agent Christopher that Thomas thought that he’d known of, not the unfocused mess he appeared to be earlier. “Serena Tennyson was one of my test subjects that I wrote about in my last book.”
Chris nodded. “You did. You focused about 40 percent of your narrative focused on her.”
So you read it, Chris. What I would give to learn your opinions of what I wrote about your brother Xavier and where he has taken A House in Chains during his tenure as the One. “My Excel program says that it was closer to 35 percent, but analytics ’are irrelevant to what my overall point is.” Thomas said, feeling more comfortable in this type of physiological debate. He almost reached to take his jacket off, and not because he was hot. “The point is that when I writing it help to have visuals of that subject matter when you’re explaining their background, or expressing an opinion from their point of view.”
“That must have been damned convenient for you,” Blue tried to hide her overbite by turning away and feign as if she found something more interesting out of the window to look at. “A practiced womanizer has his prized project hoe show up in his living room. And she was naked when we got there. You both were, so you sure as hell hit the jack pot somewhere before The FBI arrived…to save you.” She made her last words bite, the shark swimming in shallow waters once more.
Lindsey through Thomas a life jacket, “You’re toeing a line, Missy,”
“What’s wrong, Counselor?” Blue got to her little feet and wailed her tiny arms about. “I’m sure you could extract any information out of any woman you please. I’m just glad that I’m asking you the questions and this isn’t happening the other way around.” Blue found Lindsey’s green eyes. “It looks like we’re dealing with a real pro here, a gigolo. Take my advice, honey, you better hold on to your pants.”
His lawyer fumed. Blue leaned close enough to both of the seated people in the room that you could smell the peppermint of her breath. “Or is it too late for that already?”
“You’re excused.”
Agent Blue turned on Lindsey. “What did you say to me?”
Lindsey only had eyes for Christopher Prince as she slammed her folder shut. “Either Agent Blue is excused or my client and I are.”
Agent Prince lowered his head and let his feet dangle on this side of the table. “Why don’t you take a short break, Tabitha, and get yourself a Diet Coke or something.”
Blue struggled to close her mouth. She looked from Christopher Prince to Lindsey, to Thomas Pepper, and finally at her partner again. Thomas doesn’t need to know the woman on a personal level to see the hurt leaking from her eyes and the twitch of her top lip.
“Yea, something,” She said to Agent Prince as she scooped up her files and stomped out of the door slamming it shut behind her.
“Forgive my partner.” Agent Prince said in the wake of his partner’s exit. “Tabitha Blue’s passion is what drives her to excel in her duties as an FBI agent. A high profile case like this one can get the best of you.
“You’re wrong, Prince, at least about that last part.” He was shaking his head and wasn’t sure why. That woman had just tried to bury him. Why should he care about her feelings? “This is personal for her. She’s looking for people to blame for the defections that have occurred. She’s bitter about your department’s shortcomings.”
“Shortcomings,”
Lindsey sensed the dangerous tone that Agent Prince’s tone was taking. She pushed herself forward into his line of sight, as if to create an artificial wedge between the two men.
“The FBI agents who abandoned this agency—that abandoned you are your responsibility and not mine. All of the reporting that I’ve done in my interviews and books and have uploaded on my blog is only the facts as they’ve been presented to me.” Thomas said. “You people are not going to crucify me for this.”
Prince tried to step through the artificial wedge that Lindsey had created. She stuck he palm into the other man’s chest and it stuck there like glue.
She said, “Careful, Agent Blue. We wouldn’t want Thomas to be involved in another harassment suit, would we?”
“Your involvement, as to its extent is yet to be determined.” Prince never looked at Thomas’ lawyer but eased off her palm just the same. “My people—or what is left of them is trying to understand every aspect of your relationship with Serena Tennyson.” He sat in the chair and faced them for the first time. “You better hope to God that you are telling us everything you know.”
If you help me, you will gain enemies on both sides of this conflict. They both will harass you. They will threaten you. Thomas squeezed the sides of his chair considering Mayor Jonson’s words as if she had just spoken aloud.
Lindsey asked, “I assume that we are finished here?”
Agent Prince grunted and nodded his bald head in the general direction of the door without fully looking up. Lindsey thanked him, gathered her belongings, tossed them into her briefcase without bothering to sort them, and snapped it shut. She opened the door for him and he recognized the expression forming in the laugh lines of her mouth. I told you that I would handle this. You owe me the remainder of the afternoon. I’m on top.
“Is there anything else you would like to add to your official statement, Thomas?” Agent Prince said, barely audible over the commotion in the hall. “Something, anything that could help us in our fight
with Pandora.”
“I’ve told you everything.” He lied. He had been working two sources the day before Serena turned up in his living room. He was honoring his promise to Ernestine Johnson about answering the three questions that every Person of Color…including this man he was leaving behind in this interrogation room, wanted to know. I’m not sure that my information is prudent to your present investigation or not, Chris. More importantly, at least to me, I won’t allow you to use my information against me and try to keep me her any longer. Even with Serena Tennyson out of the game, the clock was ticking. He was going to be needed elsewhere.
Just as Thomas Pepper stepped through the threshold another agent nearly collided with him walking in. He was frowned up as if someone had kicked him in the shin. He made his way over to Prince and whispered something in the other man’s ear that caused Prince to wince and mutter a curse. He held his index finger up for Thomas and his lawyer to hold up for a sec. Just as quickly the special agent recovered his composure, nodded at the messenger who strutted off and then returned to the room a minute later.
“My apologies for all of the cloak and dagger, sir,” The still frowning agent said to Thomas. “But there is someone here who has been waiting to see you, sir.”
Thomas felt a pang in his chest and he and Lindsey exchange a look of anxiety.
Sophie, his Fox Terrier, struts in to the interrogation room.
Thomas kneels his large frame so that his dog and leap easily into his waiting arms. He called her name once and again as if to make himself believe she is here, that all of this is really happening. The Terrier licked unabatedly at the hair on his jaws and cheek, and then finds softer skin…and a tear underneath his right eye.
Lindsey smiled, folded her arms and relaxed her stance and allowed the couple to have their reunion in silence and without interruption.
Special Agent Prince wasn’t about to be so kind. “Unfortunately,” He said in a grave voice. “You two are one of the few humanoids who survived that encounter with Serena Tennyson.”
The hallway behind them had been a bustle of foot traffic, but Thomas Pepper noted that wasn’t the only reason for the sudden silence hanging in the air.
“What has happened, Agent Prince?” Thomas Pepper finally asked.
“Your housekeeper was found dead in a wooded area about four miles from your residence. She was shot in the head by a high powered rifle.” He added, “The Medical Examiner says that the time stamp on the body states that she was killed while you and Serena were conducting your interview.”
So you had come a day early, after all, Eloise because of the trip you were taking with your husband. Thomas bit back fresh tears. When Serena had spoken into her communication device on her collar when he mentioned it to her then, he had hoped that they would detain the woman as Serena had told them that Pandora did with Sophie.
Agent Prince was staring into Thomas’ blank expression. “Thank you for your time, Miss Harmon. We have your card. Someone will be in contact with you if we feel the need to take any further statements from your client.”
Outside Lindsey had walked a still stunned Thomas past the security checkpoint that led out of the courthouse and into an impressive courtyard of vegetation and color. It did stink of smoke and there was the all too familiar haze in the chilly afternoon air. Thomas pulled Sophie closer to his bosom and ducked his head inside of his jacket against a series of quick gust of wind.
Lindsey had her cigarette going and waved it at him in a goodbye. She had received a call on her cell on their walkout that delayed any erotic plans they may have tried to engage in, at least for now. He watched her drive off without before clicking her seat belt.
Thomas latched his own seat belt and was working out the details of an impossible task of securing an eight pound dog in the passenger side one when he noted again how the foot traffic picked up with agents storming out of the building.
He heard the sirens of first responders in the distance. If his ears didn’t betray him he thought he could hear a helicopter…and when he glanced towards Fletcher Street, he could see the bird circling around in search of something.
What is all of this mischief? He asked himself while he gave Sophie’s ear a gentle squeeze and felt his heart sink. What have you done now, Serena?
And then he saw Agent Tabitha Blue.
She was legging it for her vehicle in the parking lot as well. She wasn’t wearing the near panic look of the other agent’s; her expression was more of a subtle focus of singular intensity. He locked Sophie in the car and rushed to greet her before she sat in her Ford.
“Agent Blue,” He asked, pissed that he could be this winded with only a quick sprint across the street. “What in the hell is going on? What’s happened?”
Agent Blue measured her response for a moment. And then she must have decided that telling a civilian, even this civilian wouldn’t violate some type of protocol that she was under.
“While we were interviewing you, Serena Tennyson told our resident Clinical Phycologist, Dr. Hicks-Dupree that she wouldn’t live long enough to be prosecuted for her crimes against the citizens of Atlanta for the 411 attacks.” She said. “It looks as she was right after all.”
Thomas felt a lump growing in his throat. Sophie barked at a steady hilt at both of them from across the street.
“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, though he didn’t need to exercise his brilliant investigative skills to deduct the possibilities…or the possibility of what happened.
“The brass was concerned that someone may make an attempt on her life when we moved her from here to the DC area in the morning, so Sheridan came up with the idea to decrease those odds by transporting her out today to lessen that risk.”
“Go on, Agent Blue,”
“Shots rang out during the second leg of her transportation route.” Agent Blue said her overbite clear enough that Thomas Pepper could see her entire upper gum. “It looks as if your little girlfriend is dead.”
Chris
Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue (Street Level), 6th Day
“Serena’s gone.” Angel said after she exited her Land Rover. One other vehicle worked its breaks pulling in a space behind her. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard was a bustle of activity with a matrix of blue and red lights traveling in all directions.
“Damn.” Special Agent Christopher Prince said. She limped towards him after rounding the SUV from the front side. He felt a tingle of nerves in his neck when she fully entered his line of sight. “Are you alright—“
The doctor peered down at the red blotches on her blouse’s tail and her trousers and waved him off, the blood belonging to someone else. A rat faced agent who Chris knew but couldn’t put a name to face limped towards the curve as well. Chris noted that fact was news in itself, because the man usually moved about with the careful precision of a Siamese cat—and the blood caked on his bicep and thigh was his own. Chris slammed the passenger side door of the car he’d bummed a ride in and they dodged afternoon traffic to an area of seclusion so the other two could fill him in. He was breathing heavily by the time they’d reached a spot clear of congestion and where they could hear one another without shouting. After this is all over, Chris swore, I’m going to drop these extra pounds.
“Do we have an official time of death?” He asked the agent that he now remembered as Everett, Jimmy Everett.
But it was Angel who shook her head with some emphasis, grabbed both of his wrists and shook them. “You’re not hearing me, Christopher.” She cocked a brow and her big brown eyes looked hazel in the bright sunlight. “Serena’s gone. She’d disappeared. She’s vanished without a trace.”
“What?”
Angel glanced over her shoulder at Everett and gave him the floor.
“A half a dozen shots rang out in rapid progression.” Agent Everett winced in pain and put pressure on his wounded leg. “At least one of the shots appeared to strike the subject, Serena Tennyson, on her temple. One shot each killed a
ll four of her female escorts to either side of her. Either a group of snipers had their timing down to a tee or there is one hell of a single shooter out there.”
Chris concentrated on the first part of the other man’s sentence. “You said that the shot appeared to hit her?”
“Yea, I was getting to that, sir.”
Everett and Angel shared a look until she finally planted a hand on each hip and cocked her brow at him. “Tell him, Jimmy.”
“Yea, Agent Everett,” Chris said. “Tell me.”
“In the chaotic mess that ensued we got a call out to the paramedics. Man, I got to tell you, I ain’t ever seen so many people scrambling in 50 different directions—at least since President Sweet got killed in Houston. Anyway, as soon as we put Tennyson inside the ambulance I felt a stinger in my arm here and one in my upper leg. “Everett pulled a rag out of trousers and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He grimaced in pain, this spasm worse than the first one. Chris reached a hand out to help him, but the older man waves him off with one of his rat hands.
“I’ll live.” He said. “Anyway, I look up and my own piece is in my ear and I hear the voice of a man, Agent Feller, a guy I’ve worked with years telling me that I don’t have to die here like the others. He told me to get down, then stay down and I would live long enough to tell my grandchildren about this day, about Deliverance. I woke up…I don’t know, maybe 10 or 15 minutes later with some pretty ass blonde treating my wounds. My gun was lying next to me; I guess he left it there after he bashed me over the head with it.”
Pandora had struck at the heart of the FBI again.
Angel took her hands off of her hips and told the two men what she knew. A court reporter had been shot minutes after Serena walked out of her arraignment to get the ball rolling. Yea, Pandora used that distraction to throw us off our guards. She then said that an APD Deputy who was assigned for secondary support was shot in the back of the head and killed. Pandora went out of their way to strike behind where Serena was leaving a trail.
Agent Everett added that he guessed that Serena had her people lined up in strategic points all along her escape routes. It was going to be difficult to concentrate on retrieving her if you were ducking and dodging gunfire or potential gunfire.
Chris had heard on one of the deputy’s radios that a car that had appeared to have been stolen had driven up three floors at top speeds, dodging other parked cars and some civilian foot traffic. Chris hadn’t known what to make of that news at that time and still was trying to put the puzzle piece in place even now. Everett didn’t make that process any easier when he picked up where he left off, saying that Serena fled down the seven floors to ground level where two more deputies were found dead.
Why would she flee by driving up in the garage only to take longer to reach an intended spot by running back down?
Agent Christopher Prince let the puzzle hang there unsolved and peered as far as his vision would allow him down Martin Luther King Jr, thankful that the usual smoky haze had cleared, at least for now. I’ll take that as a good sign of things to come. King fed into the busy side street of Piedmont, which crossed Peachtree and led to both I 75 and I 85. If she made it to either interstate it was no telling how far she could have driven by now.
Chris’ cell phone, the one he reserved for bureau business only buzzed in his pocket.
Sheridan:
“Agent Prince, I don’t know how she got this far, this fast, but Tennyson’s been spotted heading northwest along Centennial Olympic Park Drive in a Carolina blue van. You would have thought she would be smart enough to pick a more anonymous color for her getaway vehicle. I am in a copter. We are in hot pursuit.”
Chris asked, “Is she driving?”
“It looks as if she has a male escort, but that is unconfirmed.” Sheridan said with some apprehension. Chris knew how much it pained the man to speculate. “Tell Dr. Hicks-Dupree that she was right. I should have listened to her.”
Chris disconnected from the call without questioning Angel about whatever conversation she had with Sheridan, but it must have been a doozy. Sheridan gave compliments nearly as often as he speculated on events transpiring in cases.
“You did listen to me, Sheridan,” Angel was hugging her shoulders and speaking in a low voice. “We were convinced that Pandora had committed their selves to a rescue operation for Serena’s scheduled move tomorrow morning. So we upped it up to today to minimize the risk.”
“Damn,” Was all Chris could add to that.
Angel went on and quickly summarized the first part of her conversation with Sheridan. The doctor told Chris about the several oddities in Serena’s behavior after her interview with her this morning. Chris had attended part of that meeting before he and Blue left to meet with Thomas Pepper.
“I understand all that, Angel.” Chris said after he let his old friend have her say, and for the first time he got a whiff of her. You can’t leave that stuff alone can you, Doc. “Maybe I’m just missing you or Sheridan’s point about something. None of this tells me how you knew she would try to escape?”
“I didn’t, Christopher, not really.” Angel said. “She kept going on about the coming escalation of tensions between Pandora and A House in Chains, about where are our children. I just guessed that it was all too big for her to just sit it out.
Two paramedics arrived and sat Agent Everett down and begin to treat the man’s wounds. Chris and Angel wave their goodbyes to him and hop into Angel’s rental, Chris planting his big ass in the Land Cruisers driver side seat, thankful for the space. Before Angel can slam her heavy door shut, his cell phone buzzes in his pocket again.
“What?” Chris yelled into the receiver. “That can’t be right.”
After they lock their seatbelts in place, he begins high tailing it in a northern to northwesterly direction. Angel pokes her lips out at him wondering what was said. He shakes his head and hits up Sheridan on the speed dial.
“Negative, Prince.” Sheridan said. “You’re information is in error. I’m still riding shotgun in the helicopter as we speak. I have a confirmed visual of the fugitive. There are half a dozen APD and three or four of our own people who are in a high speed pursuit of Serena and her companion as we speak. In fact, all mentioned have just crossed the Andrew Young Parkway.”
“That’s impossible, sir. I’ve just received verification that she’s on Magnum Street near Chapel Road, being slowed considerably by traffic.” Chris smiled over at Angel. “Thank God for the general snarl of metro traffic and specifically for The Atlanta Marathon that’s underway today. I should be in visual range of her in 15 minutes.”
Sheridan wasn’t convinced. “You’re Intel is wrong, Prince. I’m looking through my binoculars right now. The fugitive has the same red hair, the same orange jumpsuit.” He paused and Chris could only guess that he found something in that vehicle that got even more of his attention. “She’s picked up some sunglasses along the way, probably lifted them off a deputy that her people killed during her escape.”
“Why don’t we catch both of these people to be sure?”
“You’re on, Prince,” In his minds eye, Chris could feel the other man’s smile, albeit a brief one, through the line. “Looser buys a steak.”
In the minute after he disconnects Special Agent Christopher gets two calls:
He scanned the face of his personal cell. It is Doctor Phelps, his personal physician calling him again. Damn, this man has lousy timing. So far he had called him when he was still a captive inside of the Fox Theatre during the siege, called him again an hour earlier when he and Blue were playing tag interviewing Thomas Pepper, and now he was ringing him up at this inopportune time.
Chris lets the phone ring itself out without answering.
Almost immediately after his personal phone stopped its chiming, his business line buzzed in his pocket again. Angel reached over and quickly helped him hook up his Bluetooth and the speaker.
It was Tabitha Blue:
“I??
?m a little busy, Tabitha.” He darted around a Volkswagen that stopped in the middle of the street. “What’s up?”
“Put what you’re doing down and get your ass over to Baker Street near the Hyatt Regency.” Blue said. “I’ve got Parson’s with me, Witten in a car in front of me and Whitehead tailgating to freaking close behind. We’re closing in on Tennyson. She’s driving a stolen Mercedes Benz.” And she rattled off the license plate number, Blue being Blue.
Angel looked at Chris. “How could that be?”
Chris answered his old friend only by hitting the gas, maneuvering around several cars, the pressure mounting in his head and his gut. He only had the slightest error in driving to make and an innocent civilian could be killed with this light tank he was driving at 80 and 90 miles per hour.
The car that had been described to him, an older model Buick Impala, was now in his line of site. The pressures in both his head and gut ceased to exist as his adrenaline kicked in, the feeling that only people who did this type of work would understand. He swung in, making the slightest adjustment on his route, and fit the Big Land Cruiser right in behind Serena.
“That can’t be, Tabitha,” Chris finally told his partner. She’d been quiet herself, their own pursuit of…whoever, tightening her focus. “I’m on her tail right now.”
“Shit,”
“What is it, what’s wrong,” Chris said to his dash board. “Talk to me, Agent Blue.”
Chris stole a look at Angel then focused on the rear headlights of the Buick in front his trying to escape his pursuit. He guessed he was wrong about only people in his line of work getting that adrenaline rush. I see that Clinical Psychologist get it as well. In fact his old friend appeared to be having the time of her life.
“Sorry Chris, Tennyson struck another vehicle and blew a tire.” Blue said at last. “She’s one lucky, bitch though. The way that car banked, she should have flipped it over. Damn, she’s out. Tennyson is out of the Mercedes and is on foot. I’ve got to go, Prince. I’ve got to—“
“Tabitha, wait,” Chris was greeted a click and then the long tone of a dead line. He found solace in Angel’s company. “Damn, Angel, what is going on? It’s like we’re chasing ghost, like we’re after a fleet full of fugitives.”
Another call comes in on his business line.
Agent Sheridan:
“Prince, Agent Prince, can you hear me?”
The line went dead. Angel find’s Sheridan’s number for him and hit’s the speed dial again...and then a third time. They were getting nothing but a garbled signal for their efforts, damned cell phones.
“Prince, are you there?”
“Sheridan,” Chris had thought the last connection had been severed. “We got a bad cell. Sheridan—“
The other man said, “Stop yelling, Prince. I can hear you. Listen, my suspect went head on with a civilian in a F150. I think both drivers are dead, but Tennyson is one tough hombre, though. She’s out of her car…wobbling, but on her feet. Several APD squad cars are dodging a pile up the wreck caused and are closing in. Wait…now she’s running again—“
Prince made another sharp turn of Northside Avenue staying on his suspect’s heels. “Somebody’s playing games, Sheridan. I’ve talked with Agent Blue. She’s miles away from either of our pursuits and claims that she has Serena in her sights as well.”
If his superior heard Chris last transmission he’d acknowledged it in silence. Chris gave both of then the necessary time and space to fully focus on what transpiring in both of their theatre of operations in real time.
“Those half a dozen squad cars I was telling you about have quit fighting to drive through the log jam.” Sheridan announced as if he were doing play by play. “They are out of their cars and are continuing the pursuit on foot. She’s injured. She won’t escape us now.”
Chris watched as their Serena caused one civilian and one taxi driver to hit one another while evading the collision with her Buick. He didn’t think that the wreck caused an immediate fatality, but he couldn’t be certain. Angel nearly stood up to get a better view of it as they left the accident behind them.
“Hold on,” He warned her.
He banked again, to the left this time, shadowing her car’s movements and heard both vehicles’ tires screech in loud protest.
“Watch out, Chris,” Angel said and grabbed onto his arm for dear life.
Chris used all of his training, his timing, his strength in his right arm…and a bit of luck to avoid a clan of pedestrians who had just peeled off a sidewalk. He straightened the rental back out and pounded the gas as he had lost ground on Serena, but had her Buick still well in his sight.
“Watch out for what, Dr. Hicks-Dupree,” Blue said through the speaker. In all of the commotion and near fatal crash, Angel must have dialed Tabitha. He sat straight up in his seat, checked on Angel who had lost some of her coloring, and adjusted the mirrors more to his liking. In one of those mirrors he could see the pedestrians who almost lost their lives throwing their fists in the area, their mouths moving in what Chris thought were swears and curses.
“Blue,” He said. “What’s your status?”
“Tennyson bolted for an old, abandoned beauty shop. She’s surrounded. I should have something positive to report—“
This time Chris heard the cell beep. He told his partner to hold that thought.
Sheridan: “Goddamn,” He said. “Agent Prince, are you there?”
“I’m here, sir, tell me you got her.”
“Yea,” He said, but his lack of enthusiasm spelled trouble. Chris just knew it. “I’m on the ground now. Yea, we got something, alright, we got a goddamned body double.”
“What?” Angel asked.
“Please say that again, sir.” Chris slowed the Land Cruiser enough to bend the SUV around a sharp curve as Serena had. “Would you care to elaborate?”
Sheridan snorted. “It’s an imposter. It’s a woman who has the same exact build as our fugitive. She tried to kill herself when we approached her.”
Angel cocked a brow at Chris but her question was intended for Sheridan.
“She tried to kill herself? What does that mean exactly?”
“Her gunned jammed as she fired a round.” Sheridan snorted again. “She meant business too, had half the barrel in her mouth. We do have her in custody. I hope to God you are in pursuit of the real Serena Tennyson, Agent Prince. I’ve got plenty of room on my credit card for those steaks we talked about.”
“Maybe…the next time I call you, I will make sure to have something to report one way or the other.”
After Angel disconnected for him Agent Christopher Prince threw all of his concentration on the Buick still ducking and dodging their pursuit. The Bluetooth lit up again; Angel threw the call on to the speaker.
Blue said: “Someone piss on me.”
“Agent Blue, calm down and report.”
“Yes, sir,” Chris can hear her muttering 1…2…3… “We have a dead man dressed in a wig. And I ain’t kidding when I say that he could really go for being a female, you know the slight build, and nearly no body hair save the wig, skin smoother than mine, he really looks the part at a distance.” She struggled to keep admiration out of her tone. “We didn’t get to question her, ah mean him, though. He killed—“
“He killed himself.” Angel said. Chris pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “We know, Agent Blue.”
Blue added: “Yea, he did just that, Doctor. He pulled out his gun just after we had him surrounded, we all got defensive, but before anyone could get their own piece out he suck that thing halfway in his mouth and ate one. His brains are still oozing down the nearby wall right now.”
Chris instructed Angel to disconnect the line with a finality that said that he wasn’t taking any more calls.
“What are you planning to do, Christopher?”
“It’s time for this pursuit to end. If both these vehicles continue at this velocity we’re going to get some poor civilian killed.”
<
br /> Angel nodded in agreement.
Then she saw him almost bracing himself and giving her the slightest look that she had better do the same. She flashed him a very wicked smile. “Go ahead; be my guest, Christopher, I signed up for the rental car’s insurance.”
Chris pressed the gas pedal to the floor and rams Serena’s Buick just as she was readying the car for a turn. Oh, no, he wasn’t expecting her to bank as such a drastic angle and at such a great speed when he struck her car.
Chris hit the brakes, but either he or Angel can take their eyes off of Serena’s two ton spinning wheel of a car that turned over…and over…and… over one final time before it settled on its crushed top.
They hopped out of the Land Cruiser as quickly as seatbelt and door would allow them to. They had to side wind around a handful of metallic pieces of what was left of the Impala. Yet, considering all of today’s actions, neither Special Agent nor Clinical Phycologist were taking any chances as they both slow their pace as they reach the car. Chris is comforted, at least some, by knowing that Angel is professionally licensed to carry a concealed weapon. What does concern him is in the matter that she has taken two lives already and may be itching at the bit to add a third to her list.
He could hear sirens arriving in the backdrop.
They both saw a detached red wig that had begun blowing down the street. A woman who could have been Serena Tennyson in another life had part of that slim body inside the car…while the rest was outside buried beneath the Buick.
“It’s not her, Christopher.” Angel’s announcement, however obvious, had finalized the little episode with a loss for the good guys. She put her weapon away and let her hair blow in the breeze for a second. “It’s just another goddamned double. This was just another part of the ruse and we fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.”
“It’s more than that, Doc,” Chris said quietly. “This whole thing is far worse right now than anyone would imagine.”
A host of FBI agents, APD uniforms and first responder units came on the scene in a rainbow of red and blue color. A helicopter soon joined the mass and Chris assumed it was Sheridan sitting on the co-pilot’s side. Out in the distance he could see the first round of news trucks form many local affiliates entering the area as well.
On the other side of the road, two dozen or so marathoners slowed to a jog, passing through the scene losing focus from their race. The sight of the joggers, and the potential of injury or death they avoided, might have been the only positive that he could have found in the past 10 or 15 minutes of his life.
Angel seemed to eyeing the media trucks exclusively as she brushed her brunette hair out of her eyes. “To them, and more importantly to the public, this whole thing is going to make the bureau look incompetent at best, negligent at worst in Serena’s entire handling.” Angel had a thing for stating the obvious. “And the repercussions of this aren’t likely to blow over anytime soon.”
Chris leaned up against the wrecked Buick. “It’s far worse that just that, Doc,” He thought he might trade one obvious statement for another. “We already know from Agent Everett that several FBI Agents were involved. They betrayed their agency, their country by helping a known terrorist escape.”
Chris stooped to the ground where the upper part of the body of this double was lying very dead. He peered into her bloodshot eyes that hadn’t shut.
“Her death was an accident, Christopher.” Angel placed a hand on each of his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “I saw the look on your face when she made that sudden turn just as you attempted to ram her. You were trying to save lives.” She said and both looked up long enough to catch the final glimpses of the marathon runners as they jogged out of sight into the building haze of a late afternoon. “It was a clean maneuver. Everything you did was by the book.”
I know you should be released by now, baby brother. On a personal and family level, I couldn’t feel better, especially you being reunited with my nephews again. They’ve missed you. He took a deep breath and realized instantly how bad that decision was considering how fast this smoky haze was blowing in from the West. Yet, as a professional law enforcement officer, your presence on the streets makes my job all the harder. Chris had already seen first-hand what a member of the Circle could do. And he put it in his report to Sheridan after he’d let the cobwebs dissipate a day or so later. A House in Chains and Pandora are like giants in the playground. He took one final look at the dead Serena Tennyson and got to his feet. And everyone else isn’t anything but ants getting stepped on your march towards war with one another.
He knew there was only way for this to end before that evadible clash.
He would have to take a giant down.
He walked back towards the Land Cruiser without looking back at his childhood friend. He had a renewed purpose—and a new mission.
He decided right then that if he had the chance to kill Serena Tennyson—shield or no shield that was what he was going to do.
Louis
I-285 East (Emergency Lane), 6th Day
He heard someone coming up from behind him.
He dared peer over his right shoulder, the passenger side of his pickup truck in full view.
A voice:
“Turn your head back around. Do not look at me. Do not say anything. I want you to put the key in the ignition, start this old heap up, put the transmission in gear and drive.”
Louis wanted to obey. He really wanted to. But he could hear the helicopters flying in the distance to take him away…far away. And anyway, his hands were trembling and he was so very cold, yet he was beginning to sweat along his forehead and underneath his armpits.
He managed to get the old girl’s engine going after the second try and he and…she were underway. He gazed one final time into his driver side mirror and found the strength to put his boot to the gas pedal and pull the pickup truck onto the highway. At least Elvis Pressley was swooning an oldie but goodie on the classic rock station, the familiarity of the king’s lyrics sooth him almost to the point of relaxation.
Serena Tennyson reached out and switched the radio to one of those 24 hour news channels.
“Watch your speed.” She said
Fuck you, lady. The voice inside him said.
She grabbed one of the bottled waters from the packs on the passenger side floorboard and downed half of it in a single gulp. She was wearing a gray sweat suit on top of the orange prison garb they issued you at the courthouse. He could only imagine what fate befell the woman who had owned the sweat suit when this day had started.
“Serena,” Louis took the off ramp at Hudson. He remembered that this point right here, right now passed an important threshold for their escape, Serena’s deliverance. “How did you make it here? All of the reports coming on the radio said that you’d been shot. How did you escape?”
She wiped the spilled portion from her mouth with the back of her hand…and were those tears seeping out the corner of her eyes. She still didn’t answer at first, but when she did, told Louis a grand tale that is full of treachery, deceit, betrayal and finally, murder. The final leg of it found her falling in with the marathon participants and running right past Special Agent Christopher Prince and the traitor Dr. Angel Hicks Dupree after they had rear-ended and killed one of her body doubles. She had said to him that she was sure that all eight of the brave men and women who had sacrificed their selves for her cause were either dead or in custody by now.
Inside of him, Hugh Keaton giggled. You have to admire her attention to detail, and the tenacious way she goes about goes about her business.
Twenty minutes and no disruptions later they arrived at a wooded area in the western suburbs of Cobb County. Louis can hear his boots crunching the leaves beneath his boot as he steps down out of the pickup truck. He hurried as fast as his little legs can take him and opens the heavy door for his leader, ever the gentleman. We are far from being a gentleman. And this wench is your leader, not hours. The sooner we learn that the better we a
ll will be.
When Serena opened the door to the cabin, a dozen or so Pandora agents greeted her as she stepped inside.
Serena took a step or two forward, Louis shadowing her footsteps like a grim reaper. The applause for their leader is long and thunderous enough to shake the foundation. They continue the cheering, the whistling, and the clapping of hands until they realize their efforts are wasted on her. Serena has yet to look up from the wooden floor, not to speak of not meeting or acknowledged that anyone had come here to greet her at all.
Unsmiling, Serena finally looked up and took in her surroundings even before she acknowledged the people who occupy the space in this cabin which is too small a space for all of these folks in the first place.
She hadn’t smiled once. In fact, her thin pale jaws looked as if they might swell up and burst in anger at any given minute. The leader of Pandora continued to peer around in silence. Louis noticed the buckets of Champaign chilling on ice, finger sandwiches resting on a tray waiting to be consumed, and brownies are lined up smartly on a coffee table.
Serena hugged herself, and for a second Louis thought the woman would fall where she once stood if she hadn’t had a wall to lean against.
“Whose idea was this,” Serena said in a dangerous voice and scanned the room pointing out potential suspects along the way. “I want to see a hand. I want a name. I want it right now or there will be hell to pay for all of you.”
No one volunteered to breathe, yet alone take the leap of faith by stepping forward and perhaps incurring the wrath of the Oracle.
No one dared take the leap except a pale, petite woman who wore her hair in a single braid that ran the length of her spine. She was dressed in black; she was always dressed in black.
Danielle Rohm dared to smile and pointed a skinny finger over her own head. “It was me, Serena. I take full responsibility for this.”
Serena left Louis’ petite shadow for Rohm’s. Some of the other agents looked at each other with anxiety budding on their faces, while others seem to stop breathing at all. Louis turned away but Hugh twisted his head back from which it came. We want to see this. Serena had been known to be hard, but could she be cruel as well—
“Then it is you that I should thank, Rohm.” Serena said to the younger woman, and then raised her head and voice at last for all of the Pandora operatives to hear her. “Thank you all…it feels…wonderful to be amongst all of you again.”
Pandora celebrated well into the night. Louis even saw Serena set one of her water bottles aside and accept a glass of Champaign that she nursed for thirty minutes before her glass was empty at last. Rohm drank enough for the both of them and it gave her enough courage to lift her small frame on her toes and hug Serena around her neck. Serena only hesitated a second…her discomfort with another human being’s touch lessening. She finally ran a hand along the small of Rohm’s back in small token of affection. Both women thought that Louis was out of hearing range when Rohm said, “He survived another of your test, when you had him meet you at the congregation point.”
Serena nodded in agreement.
The other operatives laughed and ate and drank mostly among themselves. They chatted about how the day had went, the battle won. Rohm had bragged about her half a dozen kills that had originally sprung Serena from her captives. A second voice patted her on her shoulder commenting that he’d never seen shooting like that. A last voice laughed about how incompetent the APD were and how inept the FBI was as they followed the doubles in all directions through the city.
And then Serena hushed them long enough for one and all to raise a glass in tribute to the fallen. She called each by name and thanked them for their service and for honoring the cause…and honoring her.
Louis did not raise a glass with them.
Two hours later, when the late night full moon watched him from overhead, Serena came to him as he knew she would. He was seated on the back step of the cabin watching the taillights of the last of the operatives leaving for wherever their lives took them next. There were three rooms in the cabin and Louis knew that Danielle Rohm had stayed behind to sleep off the alcohol and to stay close to their leader if her services were needed in the remote chances that either the bureau or Xavier Prince’s people found her here. And you stayed behind, little girl to keep an eye on us.
Louis felt the step give a little as Pandora’s leader sat next to him. He could feel her thigh and hip graze his own leg. He had a woman once. Even now, well over 40 years later, he still hadn’t understood what all of the fuss was all about. We’re sure this type of intimacy would excite an operative or…three that have already left the party
But he had a hunger for a different type of flesh.
And our need to feed grows with every passing minute, Serena. Feed us…feed us again as you promised that you would.
Still, there was a glow on her skin that hadn’t existed before, a perhaps it was just the moonlight. She’d washed her hair and the red came through bright and clear as she combed it out. Something was different about her. Something had changed. What happened to you while you were away from us, Serena? Louis knew about the attempted rape…he knew all about rape…yes, he did.
Still again, she was still Serena Tennyson. She was the Oracle. She was still hard, but something or someone had softened her around her edges at least. Louis didn’t know exactly what any of this meant for Pandora…or for him.
He realized that he’d been staring at her this entire time without blinking.
“I don’t have to explain to you how important your role is in the coming days.” She said. “So many have sacrificed so much for us to be where we are right now, here in our rightful place, leading others.”
He tried to nod, but could not find the strength.
She saw his weakness. She pulled out a cell phone out of her housecoat’s pocket. “There is something that I want you to see.” The cell phone came to life. She pressed a button and a video began playing…and although Louis Keaton had never met this man on the cell phone’s screen, he certainly knew his face.
“I’m Thomas Pepper,” He hesitated for a very long time while the camera panned out from his face to the familiar surroundings of his townhouse’s basement where he recorded these videos for his blog. Serena must have recognized the studio immediately. “And my demise has been greatly exaggerated.” Louis thought that he heard a giggle…and yes, there were children, four of them to be exact, sitting on either side of the journalist. There was a little black boy, another boy of Latino descent…Louis couldn’t be sure, and two girls, one white and another of Chinese or Japanese ancestry. None of the children were older than ten years old.
They looked delectable…especially the boys. Louis twisted in his seat so Serena wouldn’t see the stiffening in his groin.
Thomas Pepper was saying: “I vow and affirm not to speak in any public form again until I deliver the truths that I promised our Mayor, Ernestine Johnson before her untimely death several days ago.
“I invited these little ones here today as a reminder to us all that when we speak of the future, these are the ones that we are leaving it to. And when I look into their faces, I know that there is a God. I may not serve him as I should…but I know that He is there. And His spirit reminds me that their hearts are so naturally pure and so innocent that it is we and only we adults who teach them to hate one another.” Pepper’s tone turned dark. “How dare we teach them guidelines and rules that we adults ourselves are either too arrogant or too stupid to adhere to.”
Thomas Pepper took a breath. The little Asian boy became unruly for a minute. Thomas let the moment and the boy settle down again. “Those before us had Pearl Harbor and the JFK shooting. We have the 911 attacks. And now this generation has the Andrew Young Center and the Fox Theatre and…Deliverance.
“All of us have been raised in madness.”
The camera followed him as he stood. “I wonder how much longer before A House in Chains sees this future of sadness and pain that t
hey’ve visualized for so long. I question how many more days will pass before Pandora unleashes its Whirlwind on us all.
“I hope that Xavier Prince walks away from this impending disaster. I pray that Serena Tennyson will turn away from prophecy.” Serena seemed to squirm in her seat as the man’s last words passed through his lips.
“And I hope never to ask the question: Where are our Children?” It was now time for Louis Keaton to shift uneasily in his seat.
He concluded by saying: “My name is Thomas Pepper, where I go—“
Serena silenced the cell phone. “You’ve trained for this moment, Louis.” She said to him. “You’re ready for this moment, Louis.”
“No…I’m not.” The tears fell without preamble. He shook his head violently and put his head between his knees, his manhood stiffer than he could ever remember. And he was unable to hide it.
He turned to expose them both to her. “But I won’t fail you, Serena. Thomas Pepper dares speak of God. We are the truth and the light. And while no man knew the day or the hour of our return, we at long last, have come back for the children.
And now the dust was settling on Deliverance and the Rapture would rise with the dawn.
Episode 3 Rapture