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  • Scar: Where are our Children (A Serial Novel) Episode 7 of 9 Page 2

Scar: Where are our Children (A Serial Novel) Episode 7 of 9 Read online

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played one of these in decades; She sat on the stool with her knees up and pecked at a key and then a second and third until she found a melody that had grown familiar to her.

  And to the one she’d been forced to destroy.

  She’d gone through the set up this new command center at a new hotel whose owner was secretly—and as importantly, a silent friend to Pandora. Considering the locale and the wondrous view of Metro Atlanta, the man had outdone himself and would be rewarded for his time and attention. Those underneath her command that she respected, trust would be far too strong a term for it, advised her that a change of scenery at this point of the campaign would be wise if not prudent. Rohm reminded her of the allies and friends of their movement butchered at the hands of Quincy Morgan and an elite cell of Peacekeepers in his company. Her people thought it highly unlikely—perhaps even suicidal for a House in Chains sergeant at arms to make a personal play for her but why risk it.

  Otherwise, their current operation was going forward and well as planned. Pandora was taking its own offensive against supporters, community leaders and The Board in all of the major cities across the country. The wounds that their enemies were inflicting on Pandora were superficial at best. Their operation seemed to be focused on pulling off guerilla tactics like desperate terrorist. Those left behind by the death of Xavier Prince were poisoning a good man’s legacy and that of his father Isaac Prince—the Caretaker.

  And it would stop. It was just a matter of time.

  She got up from the piano for the moment, worked her way to the fireplace and tossed a pinched finger full of sand into the flames as she called out the names of each individual lost to the barbarism of the enemy over the past few hours. She’d honored the people of color who were lost in the wee hours of the 411 operation. She’d better damn well honor her own solders in this conflict.

  She whispered the name of Raymond Rice…and tossed in her last pinch of sand into the flames.

  And then Oracle sat herself down at the piano and played for who knew how long until she felt someone nudging her on the shoulder.

  “Rohm,” Serena heart fluttered. She must be really tiring if she wasn’t hearing and feeling people approach her. This madness must stop. “Please sit down.”

  “I’m sorry if I started you, Serena.” The younger woman dressed all in black gave her leader a once over. “Serena, have you been crying? Are you alright?”

  Serena stifled any further questioning by offering the other woman a quick smile. It was a warm but brief one that Rohm might have missed if she blinked at the wrong time.

  Serena asked her to sit down again. The younger woman crossed one black pant leg over the other, but squeezed Oracle’s hand while she did.

  “I’m glad you came, Danielle.” Serena told her. “I asked you here because I need to ask you something important?”

  “What is it, Serena?”

  “You’ve told me, or more than one occasion, about your spiritual beliefs.”

  “I have.”

  “I was wondering what is it that you do when your faith wavers.”

  Rohm sat back and rested her head on the cushion before sitting back up in full attention mode.

  “I guess that I pray for clarity of mind and spirt. In Christianity faith is the ultimate test of our love for our Lord. He passes that love down to us…his children, and through His example we pass that love and faith on to those who matter the most to us.” She said. “But make no mistake, Serena that faith is under constant scrutiny. That is why the Bible teaches us to pray.”

  “So the faith you speak of,” Serena said. “It is like the faith you’ve shown me.”

  Rohm smiled through her black lipstick.

  “Of course, Serena,” She said. “You’ve given me no reason for my faith to waver in you.”

  Serena stands at her full height for a moment, and then turns and seats herself in front of the piano once more…and begins to stroke the keys as if she’d never missed one of her mother’s lessons from all of those years ago.

  Rohm said, “I heard you playing through the door just before I came in. I admit to being curious when you requested the piano come with this latest command center. I know how you feel that furniture, for the most part, is a waste of space in a room. I didn’t even know that you played.” Rohm closed her mouth long enough to take in an ear full. “That song is beautiful. Is it an original composition? I can remember hearing the piece somewhere before but I can’t quite picture where.”

  “It is called Death is in the air Tonight. It is Xavier Prince’s song.”

  “Exactly,” Rohm nodded, pleased with her own recollection. “Death is in the air tonight. He played it quite a few times while he was under my surveillance: Sometimes as he ate his meals, once when he sexed one of his lady friends and every night before he went to sleep. I remember when you have me secretly mail him the CD. I must admit that I never tired of hearing it play myself. Where did you first come in contact with the song?”

  “Before my father rose to fly with the Dragon he wrote and composed music in his spare time.”

  “Your father was very talented.”

  “He was at that.” Serena nodded, nearly smiling again at her father’s memory. “And yet, I believe that his raw abilities had very little to do with the origin of this composition.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Danielle, my father composed this song knowing that his fate was already sealed.” Serena said with some urgency. “He composed it for me.”

  The hotel’s phone rang.

  Serena hesitated…she glared at the receiver for a minute—and continued playing as if she were never interrupted.

  “Aren’t you going to answer that, Serena?” Rohm said in a cautious tone.

  “In two minutes exactly they will call back,” Serena played louder then. She raised her voice loud enough to be heard. “And when they do, answer it for me and put the call on the speaker.”

  120 seconds later the phone indeed did ring again. Rohm looks to Serena briefly, gets to her feet and does as Pandora’s undisputed leader requested. After that the younger woman folds her arms over her small breast and remains standing. Serena stops playing in her own time and no sooner, but allows her long fingers to rest on the keyboard.

  “You are an ally, Danielle, but I need to know if you are truly a friend. Friends don’t keep secrets from another. If we are to continue on with this, Danielle,” Serena said in a quiet voice. “I need to expose you to the truth…all of it. I need to test your faith in me.

  Quincy Morgan is the man behind the voice on the speaker. “

  “Serena, are you there?”

  Serena replied, “I am, Mr. Morgan. I am here. I need to know if you’ve got it done. Did James Carter track your movements as we both anticipated? Is that hatemonger there?”

  Danielle Rohm—Shooter’s thin black lips part into an O.

  “He did at that. You’re betrayal caught him completely off balance and by surprise. I thought the smug son of a bitch would fall to his knees and cry. You should have seen the sense of hopelessness bearing down on him when his men refused to follow the order to kill me and my Peacekeepers. We were completely surrounded, out manned and outgunned. It was priceless.”

  “Good. Did you do everything that I’ve asked of you, Quincy?”

  “I did. As per our agreement we allowed the 50 or so men who joined him in the pursuit to vacate the scene without incident—“

  “And James Carter—did you proceed as I asked—“

  “Yes, Serena we beat him to a pulp. He is so very dead. And before you ask, we left a positive way to identify him quickly beyond DNA for the authorities when they find him in the coming days.”

  “What did you leave behind for them to find, Quincy?”

  “We cut off his head.” The man on the other end of the speaker phone said. Rohm gasped. Serena blinked her eyes rapidly. “We left no marks on it just as you asked. It’s clean. The note that you prepared in advance is at
tached to his skull; the title of No Hiding Place—whatever in the hell that means—is in clear script and view.”

  Serena exhaled very deeply.

  Rohm looked as if she were the Dragon. She looked as if she could breathe fire thanks to the fury brewing inside of her.

  “Very well, Quincy.” Serena said, but never took her eyes off of Rohm. “You have avenged Xavier Prince’s humiliation at Princeton by an uncivilized man with his ancient ideals. As I’ve said before, James Carter and others like him have no place in Pandora’s new world order. Our trade is now complete; the life of Xavier Prince for the life of James Carter…an eye for an eye.”

  “I believe that alliance is now at an end and the war can continue?”

  “I believe that you are correct, Quincy.” Serena said. “Of course, you could use this opportunity to surrender your remaining forces to me and help prevent a further escalation of hostilities.”

  “Save it, Serena,” Quincy Morgan said in a loud and clear voice. “I know that humor is not your strong suit. How about this for a plot twists…if you truly want to prevent this escalation as you call it, why don’t you hand over the exact location of Atlanta’s missing children.”

  Daniele Morgan could stay still and silent no longer. She took as large strides as her petite frame allowed her until she was standing over the telephone.

  “She’s perfectly serious, Morgan. I’m positive that you used the time that Serena’s cloak of protection allowed you to kill many of Pandora’s supporters—our people. I