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Tie-Dyed

By Amy C. Blake

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AUGUST 10, 2014
Black studied each face of those in his inner circle. Male,
female. Black, white. Brown, yellow. Old, young. Each understood
the goal; each realized what was at stake. Yet he was fully aware
that their motives and degrees of commitment varied by the day.
He was a snake charmer controlling a dozen cobras, each of
which would strike him dead if the melody faltered for so much as
an instant.
Over fifty years, some of the faces had changed. Many had
died. Some had defected, although he’d made it plain what would
happen if they dared report his activities to the authorities. To them
and their families. His reach was too long, his influence too strong,
to risk crossing him.
“Sir?” The middle-aged, tawny-skinned woman to his left
raised a forefinger.
He glanced at her lapel ribbon to identify her code name.
Purple. “Yes, Purple?”
“I have been in communication with our contacts in Missouri.
They are poised and ready.”
He nodded his approval. “The nation is ripe for revolution.”
They had planned one of their events for Saint Louis, but the situation
had combusted spontaneously, proving the time had come. All
they had to do was ride the wave of wrath as it rose and fell across
this country.
He trained a frown on the charcoal-skinned man with graying
puffs of hair at his temples. “Green, did you properly prepare our
participants?”
The man nodded. “Yes, Black. They are ready to fulfill their
tasks.”
“To the bitter end?”
“To the bitter end.”
“And law enforcement?” He raised his eyebrows at a young
man with skin his mother would’ve labeled “high yellow.” In her
honor, he’d given the man a yellow lapel ribbon.
“Properly infiltrated, sir.”
“And the influencers?”
Pink bulged his huge biceps, his mitt-sized black hands tightening
into fists. “They are committed, as are we, sir.”
“Good.” He glanced around the circle. “Are the other locations
ready for follow-up? Los Angeles? New York City? Oakland?
Chicago? Pittsburgh? And, of course, DC?”
At each city name, another head bobbed.
“Very good, troops. We’ve made many attempts over the years
with varying degrees of success. This time, our tactics must
prevail.” For the sake of his destiny and his mother’s honor.
“Remember, discretion is the key to our success. If a threat
surfaces, take care of it quickly and quietly. No mercy. No hesitation.
We’ve lived in the shadow of the oppressors far too long. We
will succeed.”
He saluted. With crisp precision, they returned the gesture.
“The flame has been set to the dynamite, comrades. When the
rubble settles, we will rule this empire.”

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