A Hood Legend (18 page)

Menage rolled his eyes. It was true what she said, but he had to think of something. “I'll drive one of Felix's cars. How about that, huh?”

“No,” she said frowning with her arms folded. She knew how to work him.

“C'mon, baby, it'll only take a few minutes. I promise,” he pleaded. “I love you ...”

“Don't try to sweet talk me, boy!” she said. But deep down she knew she couldn't keep him within her reach twenty four/seven. “Move out my face!” she added, smiling playfully and pushing him away when he tried to kiss her. She loved him so much.

“Well, now,” Felix said hanging up the phone, “that's taken care of. I have to meet a friend today. Hugo will stay with the limo and if you look out back,” he pointed toward the black tinted rear window, “you'll see a blue Tahoe. Four of my men are inside to keep an extra eye on things ... so I take it you'll go get the tape by yourself ...”

“Yeah,” Menage said. Chandra sucked her teeth, kicking his ankle.

“I'll send some of my men with you then,” Felix said.

“Nah, no need, but tell the men in the Tahoe to stay with the limo since Chandra will be using it, and Hugo might as well go with you.”

“Okay. What time will we be meeting up again? My meeting won't be that long,” Felix said.

Menage looked at his Rolex. “Let's see ... it's uh ... one forty now ... let's say two hours.” He looked at Chandra and saw her frown. “I mean one hour ... or an hour and a half,” he said smiling.

“Don't push it,” she said pinching his leg.

When they made it to Felix's second mansion, Menage walked toward the garage as Chandra waved at him. The limo pulled out of the driveway with the Tahoe on its tail. He knew she wanted to see her sick aunt and cousins. Felix left moments later with Hugo in a gold bullet-proof Rolls Royce Phantom. Menage ran his hand across a black Porsche Carrea GT, parked in the garage that Felix never drove. He smiled when he saw his yellow Escalade ESV sitting beside his Acura and S600. His new 1300R was parked in the corner. He hated to lie to Chandra, but a man and his wheels were hard to part. Well, that's how he saw it. Sitting in his Gucci Mercedes-Benz S600 V
12
AMG, he smiled as goose bumps formed all over his body. Starting up the car, he pulled out of the garage. “CD one, song eight, volume to the fuckin' max.” The S600 slowly moved forward as its twenty-two-inch rims rotated backward while a cut by B.I.G. thundered from the system. He was back in his element. His life was based on materialism to such a degree that it changed his personality at times and made him illogical. And he couldn't be told a damn thing about it. “My world,” he said as the sunroof slid back.

Scorpion sat tense in the Ford Excursion as it followed Felix's limo on I-95. He knew about the four men in the Tahoe, but that wasn't a problem because he hoped to have the element of surprise on his side. But for now he stayed back and followed the limo and Tahoe at a respectable distance, his .45 loaded in his lap. In the backseat, one of the mercenaries with a cut under his eye was loading the weapons and carefully placing one round in the chamber. All Scorpion had to do was take Felix's girl and demand he hand over the drugs for her return. He clenched his fist when he thought of Neil Lofton. He thought he was joking when he told him the mission was over. At first he laughed, but when Lofton told him he knew about the CIA and Troublefield, only then did he fully understand what was going down. He knew he had to act fast before the FBI and CIA came after him. There was no way they could interfere with his plan. Even the rival crime boss was putting pressure on him for Felix's death.
In due time,
Scorpion thought.

* * *

Menage arrived to his once stunning mansion. He was shocked by all the destruction he saw. The gate was gone, and in its place were orange cones and police crime-scene tape. Stepping out of his car, he looked down the street and toward the beach. It was quiet. Taking a deep breath, he took the Glock 9 from under his left arm. While making sure a round was in the chamber, he ducked under the yellow police tape. Walking up his driveway, he stopped at a dark stain. He knew it wasn't oil; it had to be from the guy DJ shot. He chewed on his lip and started for his house. His stomach turned when he saw the damage done to his eight-thousand-dollar door. The lock and handle were blown away. When he stepped into the living room, he muttered something and nearly fell to his knees. All the furniture had been removed, but hundreds of bullet holes were all over the walls. He could see where some blood had seeped through the carpet and stained the floor underneath. The kitchen was the worst. Chandra had told him how Dwight said he found him in the kitchen lying in a pool of blood with Vapor by his side. He rubbed his nose when it started to itch and tears welled up in his eyes as he thought of Vigor. He got his mind together and went to his bedroom. It too, was empty, so he made a note to ask Felix where his stuff was.

In the bathroom, he put his Glock 9 on the black granite sink. He then got on his knees to open the slot under the sink. After two attempts he finally hit the switch to open the fake wall. Pressing the eject button, a small tape slid out of the box. Menage put the tape in his pocket, and he continued to look around when he heard a cracking noise coming from the living room. He quickly picked up his Glock and a second later he pulled out the other. He slowly moved toward the bedroom door as he heard the sound again. His fingers were tense on the triggers of the two Glocks. Stepping out of the bedroom, he slowly made his way down the hall with the Glocks leading the way. Trying to control his breathing, he put his back against the wall and held the Glocks at his side. He took a peek into the living room and smiled. The noise was coming from the plastic tarp over the shattered glass door.

When he returned to his car he looked back at his crib one last time before taking off, burning rubber from the rear tires. He couldn't fight the feeling of being back on the scene, riding in the big body Benz, system pumping, rims gleaming. He ended up in Hialeah and stopped at a Jewelry store to buy an engagement ring for Chandra. So much was going through his mind. Maybe he should just move and say the hell with beef. Chandra and his seed were all that mattered. He would surprise her tonight and tell her he was out of the game and fuck the million dollar dream. He now realized he had something that no amount of money could buy—Chandra's love.

Money would be no problem for them and knowing Felix, he'd drop a few mil for a wedding gift. He looked up through the sunroof and squinted from the sun. He wondered what Dwight would say once he saw him again. Gunning the S600 through a red light, he knew his life was headed for better days, and as usual, he used music to express his mood. “CD five, song two, volume max.” He slid the tinted windows up and took a sip from a bottle of Old English 800, covered by a brown bag as Snoop Dog's “Doggy Dogg World” boomed from the trunk. He sang along, word for word as he drove, clearly enjoying himself ... “The dog pound rocks the party ... all night long ...”

* * *

Scorpion put on his mask as the Excursion closed in on the Tahoe. The Explorer Sport Trac with the other two men was still behind him. They were near the Pro Player football stadium as Scorpion called the driver of the Explorer and told him to make his move. Seconds later, the Explorer slowly passed Scorpion and then the Tahoe. Soon after it was in front of the limo. Scorpion knew he had to act fast and this was the best chance, if any, to grab Felix's girl. As the four vehicles came to a stoplight, the Explorer came to a sudden halt. Traffic wasn't heavy and the light was green, so it moved steadily, not being affected by the three SUVs and limo.

“Now!” Scorpion hissed into his cell phone. The two men jumped from the Explorer, spraying the trapped limo's windshield with a loud, deadly barrage of special tipped rounds from their AK-47s. The windshield cracked, and then gave in as the bullets ripped through the shattered glass. The driver died as glass and spinning lead tore into his face and chest. The four men in the Tahoe reacted fast. At first they waited for the limo to pass the SUV in front of them, but when they saw two men jump out and start firing on the limo, they knew something was wrong. They all jumped out with Tech 9s. Before any of Felix's men could get off a shot, Scorpion's Excursion screeched to a stop, catching Felix's men off guard. Scorpion stepped out quickly and unloaded his .45. The clattering of the Uzis' thirty-two rounds in three seconds drowned out Scorpion's shots. Felix's men never had a fighting chance. The first to die was shot in the left eye by Scorpion. By the time he hit the ground, half of his face was a bloody mess. The next two both took rounds in the chest and neck as the Uzis forced them backward and down onto the ground. The last made it between the Tahoe and limo, but he was trapped. He fired blindly over the side of the Tahoe, hoping it would buy him time and cover to get back into his truck. Quickly he stood up and ran to get inside the Tahoe. From thirty feet away, Scorpion placed two well-aimed shots into his left knee. The man screamed as he fell to the ground holding his bleeding knee, nearly blacking out from the pain. When he opened his eyes, two masked men stood over him with their Uzis pointed in his face. Scorpion ran up to the limo and yelled at the girl to open the door or he'd shoot it open. Chandra was backed up against the opposite door. There was no way she would open the door, but one of the mercenaries up front with the AK-47 reached through the front glass and popped the locks. Chandra screamed as she was yanked out by her hair and then hurled to another man. She was about to speak but Scorpion cracked her upside the head with his. 45, knocking her out cold as blood ran from the cut on her forehead.

The gunfire lasted no more than twenty seconds. The last of Felix's men lay on the hot pavement still holding his knee, breathing heavily. Scorpion stopped by his face. “Tell Felix his girl is in good hands and I will be calling him soon.” Before the man could reply, Scorpion ran to the Excursion and shortly afterward it sped off, followed by the Explorer.

Once they reached an old warehouse in Northern Miami, the mercenaries switched to a van and took Chandra where Scorpion ordered she be held. Scorpion knew the mercenaries would follow his orders if they wanted to be paid. After changing clothes, he tore out of the warehouse on a Yamaha FZ-1. His day had only just begun.

* * *

Neil Lofton didn't like the small office at the CIA headquarters and to make matters worse, he was seated in front of the DCI, Joe Troublefield.

“Lofton, Scorpion has gone renegade!”

Lofton wanted to say something smart like, “No shit, Sherlock. Haven't you been tapping the calls?” But Troublefield was not a man to be played with. At times Lofton wondered if he had picked his own last name.

“Yeah,” Lofton said. You had me in something that was way over my head, Joe, and you know it. When I placed the call and told him to come in, he just flipped—yelling and cursing over the phone. Finally he just became hysterical and then the line went dead. I don't know his cover, so he's down in Miami on his own.”

“I see,” Troublefield said sitting back in his seat. “I'm sure you remember what the Joint Chief of Staff said.”

“What—about this being a matter of national security?”

“Yes, and I'm sure you know this news won't sit well with him and the President, I might add, but we have to find him and deal with him in a very discreet manner. I'll help you the best way I can but before we call the JCS, let's try to handle this problem ourselves.”

Lofton almost didn't know what to say. “Are you gonna lay all the cards out on the table this time, Joe? For God's sake, we're on the same team here.”

Troublefield smiled. “All right, Lofton, you call the shots. But whatever you do, I want Scorpion brought in—at any cost.”

* * *

Detective Covington couldn't believe his eyes. He was on his way to Blockbuster to return some DVDs when he ran into a roadblock. Since he didn't have a scanner in his truck he didn't know what was going on, but he could see that it was something big. He couldn't even count the squad cars blocking the road. Two Metro Police helicopters circled the area. He wondered why his pager didn't go off and thought that maybe it was someone else's district. He jumped out of his SUV and walked toward the scene. As he approached the area, a rookie cop yelled for him to stop, but his sergeant noticed him and let him through. Covington watched paramedics rush from one spot to another, a few carrying body bags. Quickly scanning the area, he froze when he saw his uncle's limo.

“Oh, shit!” Covington grabbed the nearest officer. “What the hell happened?” The officer looked tired and sweat was running down his face and neck. He told Covington that four men were dead—the driver of the limo and three by the Tahoe.

“What about any passengers in the limo?”

“We really don't know yet, but one of the bodyguards is still alive. He ain't saying much ...”

“Where?”

“Where, what?” the officer replied.

“The bodyguard you just said who's alive—where is he?”

“Third rescue squad on the left,” the officer said pointing behind Covington. Covington left the officer and went to check out the scene as the sun twinkled off the spent bullet shells around the limo and Tahoe. When he made it to the rescue squad, he found the bodyguard lying out on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance. Once he met Covington's eyes, he looked around to see if he was able to speak freely. Covington walked up just as a paramedic stepped away from his squad to stretch.

“Mind if I have a word with him a second?” Covington said as he flashed his badge. The paramedic, seeing the badge, gave him no argument. Covington stepped into the ambulance and swallowed hard at the sight of the man's knee.

“Who'd they take?” he asked. That was all he wanted to know. He could get the full story later when the bodyguard was released from the hospital.

“Th-they took ... the wrong girl,” the bodyguard said weakly.

“Wrong girl?” Covington said under his breath. He was about to press the man for more answers, but the paramedic tapped on the door.

“Time's up, Detective. We gotta rush this guy in ... you can ride along if you like.”

“No, I'll talk to him later,” Covington said stepping out of the ambulance. He ran back to his Montero and tried to reach Felix again. He still wasn't on the island or the yacht and Felix didn't allow his people to tell his whereabouts if he wasn't there.

“Damnit!” he said punching the dashboard. He tried to call Hamilton, but his cell phone said that he was out of the calling area. He looked at the massacre that lay before him, and he knew it was a new ballgame. Pulling over to the curb, he slapped a blue light on top of his SUV and sped down the road, honking his horn at cars that didn't notice it. He called the station and left a message with dispatch to reach Detective Hamilton for him and have him call him right away.

* * *

Menage sat at a stoplight near Miami Central High School waiting for Chandra to pick up the phone in the limo, but there was no answer. He called her cell phone—still nothing.

“What the fuck!” he said. Then he called Felix's house. Hugo picked up on the second ring.

“Yo, Hugo, you seen Chandra?” he said getting a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Mr. Legend, Mr. Marchetti said to come to the house as soon as possible.”

“Man ... shit!” Menage said tossing the phone onto the passenger's seat. Ignoring the red light, he floored the S600 and made a tight left turn.

Arriving at Felix's second mansion, he jumped out of his car and raced up the stairs. Before opening the door, he noticed that the limo wasn't there. Breathing heavily, he ran into the large living room. Out of breath, he came to a stop when he saw Felix sitting behind his desk.

“H-hey ... man, what's going on ... where's Chandra?” he stammered. Looking around, he saw that Felix had more guards moving about and all of them carried Mac 10s. Felix looked into his eyes and told him to sit down.

“No, fuck that. Where's my girl, Felix?” he asked balling up his fists.

Felix cleared his throat and folded his hands on the desk. Even in the dimly lit room, he could see the fear and anger in Menage's eyes. “Chandra has been kidnapped,” he said softly. Menage closed his eyes and lowered his head. Felix started to speak again, but he stopped in mid-sentence when Menage placed a Glock 9 under his chin with lightning, quick movement. Felix's bodyguards were caught off guard, and now Menage had several guns pointed in his direction. He paid them no mind; he was focused on Felix, pressing the Glock deep into his neck.