Mrs. Amy Orlando is the sole surviving member of the organization’s leadership.
I telephoned her late last night and informed her that I was coming to visit sooner rather than later. She reacted as I predicted she would.
Early this morning, she sent her family to safety. Using the wealth she had amassed as the head of a socialist organization, Mrs. Orlando sought to keep her family out of harm’s way while subjecting her followers to the violence she was sure I would rain upon them. When her family fled to a safe-house in Concord, New Hampshire, they failed to arrive.
They failed, in fact, to make it out of Boston.
Her husband, the children’s nanny, the three children, and the driver, all raced out of the garage at a little past three in the morning.
When my Colts went silent, only the husband was still alive, wounded and paralyzed in the back seat, surrounded by his dead. I said nothing to him as I approached the car, doused it in kerosene, and put a match to it.
I did not enjoy the destruction of her family, but I recognized it as not only a tactical, but as a strategic necessity.
Any others who might wish to take up a leadership role in her organization needed to understand the consequences of such a decision.
And Amy, well, Amy needed to suffer.
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