Authors: Clever Black
He now had three gunners around him at all times while sitting inside
his Tahoe that was parked among the other cars in the complex. And
whether it was eight, or eighty degrees, Dougie never moved from his
spot until it was time to count cash. He let the youngsters, who were
infatuated with being in gang, handle the dope. The boys knew to come
correct each time because Dougie had made an example of one sixteen
year-old who’d come up short on sales by breaking both his legs
with baseball bat and fracturing his skull.
Dougie watched everything that went down in his spot as he called
shots. The youngsters looked up to him, believing they were Blood
Bounty Hunters for real, but it was just a name Dougie had laid on
the crew to garner more respect. He was beyond gangbanging, but if
that’s what it took to keep the crew in order, he would run
with it; he had all the boys in the crew believing they were in a
gang, but they were mere pawns on the low rung of the ladder.
“Yo, blood? I said what that boy doing ‘round the
corner?” Dougie asked again with a little more force.
“He going get the fish sandwich you asked for,” one of
Dougie’s soldiers replied.
“It shouldn’t take that long on no fish. Go get that
nigga and bring his ass back to the house, but if he up in that li’l
broad face in that store? Call me and I’m a smack the shit
outta his ass when he get back ‘round here,” Dougie
snapped as he leaned back and raised the window on his ride.
Just then Dougie’s cell phone rang. “What up, big dog?”
“What it look like over there?” Asa asked as he sat at
his desk inside
The Royal Flush
.
“We ‘bout done. Moved seven ‘nem thangs.”
“Alright. Alright. I’m gone have the girls swing through
in about two hours.” Asa Spade responded in appreciation.
“We be ready. They got the new burners?”
“Yeah. That’s what I call to tell you. Lay off this line
unless you absolutely need me before they get there and dump it and
use the new ones once you get those new ones in.”
“Gotcha,” Dougie replied as he ended the call. “Hey,”
he them called out to his soldier, “forget about that call.
Just go get that boy.”
*******
“We can’t see everything from here. Who’s the guy
in the Tahoe?” Lisa whispered to Laddy as the two hid inside of
a dumpster that gave only a partial shot of the activity unfolding
outside of what they believed to be a dope house in Shorter Arms
apartments.
For the last four days, Lisa and Laddy had been photographing a man
they believed was the go-between for Asa Spade and the drugs he ran.
They weren’t certain, however, because the man rarely moved
from his location once he parked in the driveway across the street
from the alleged dope house. He would sit there for hours and
occasionally get out to stretch his legs, sometimes while texting on
the phone.
“I believe that’s our middle man,” Laddy answered.
“We have his picture. Maybe we can take it down to the station
and see if we can get an identification from a jailhouse snitch?”
“That may work. Or maybe the vice squad down in Vegas knows
something.”
“Do we have enough time to make that trip? We’re supposed
to be up in Philly, you know?”
“Don’t remind me. Who in the hell gives a fuck about a
bunch of teenagers boosting clothes from a department store? Shit,
I’ll steal from their asses myself if the opportunity presented
itself. This is way more important than a crew of shopping mall
thieves.”
“I agree, but the question still stands.”
“Let’s wait a while longer and then we’ll head down
to Vegas and see what we can dig up on this guy in the Tahoe before
we fly back to Philadelphia.”
Lisa was bulldog of an agent. She was also defiant. Her superiors
back in Washington now had her undercover buying stolen merchandise
from a group of females who boosted clothes, jewelry and shoes from
high end fashion stores in the Philadelphia area, which wasn’t
a part of the deal when Senator Feinstein handed her the Ben Holland
case. She was about to crack the Philadelphia case wide open as it
was a chip shot given her caliber; but during her down time, she and
Laddy took flights to Colorado to spy on certain members within Asa
Spade’s organization.
If Lisa were on the tail of Asa Spade full time, she would’ve
made much further progress, but being that she had no authority to
even be investigating the case in Denver, Colorado, she could only
make minimal headway in the on-going case that was of her own doing.
It would take quite a bit of time for her to unravel the puzzle, but
the three times she and Laddy had returned to Denver since the month
of August, they’d gain some ground. They’d identified the
two women who were the possible money handlers for Asa Spade as that
of Xiang Nyguen and Francesca Aranello; and on this trip, they
believed they’d obtained photos of the middle man, whose name
was still unknown.
The money given to her by Dante` O’Malley in a deal she’d
made over the Ben Holland case was fueling Lisa’s rogue
investigation and she knew she only had until the money ran out to
put the case together and bring solid evidence before the Senate
Appropriations Committee lest her investigation be for naught. With
only one roll of the dice, Lisa knew she had to pick her battles
wisely. She and Laddy remained crouched inside the dumpster under the
cold night air for another hour, watching in silence as activity
unfolded in Shorter Arms before they left the area and began making
plans for a flight down to Vegas to see if the guy they’d
photographed had any connection to Asa Spade. Had Lisa and Laddy
remained in position for just an hour longer, they would’ve
made the connection between Xiang and Francesca, Dougie and Asa; but
their limited time frame had unwittingly let that fact go unbeknownst
for the time being.
*******
Meanwhile, over in Saint Louis, eighteen year-old Simone Cortez and
fifteen year-old Peppi Vargas sat at a wooden dinette table eating
teriyaki chicken wings inside their new apartment that sat across
from Fox Park on Saint Louis Street. The two were more than friends
now, breaking bread together and hustling side by side had blended
them into sisters. They’d made a big come up with Toodie
pulling licks over a two month period, and moving out of the
apartment on Ann Avenue had done wonders for Pepper. She’d come
into her own the time she spent with Toodie, Q-man, Dead Eye and Big
Bounce, and having her own place had elevated her confidence,
bringing her out of her shell completely.
Simone and Pepper both jumped ship on Toodie and her boys on the last
jack play because Dead Eye and Big Bounce had gone off the deep end.
The click was robbing a house in Indianapolis when Dead Eye decided
he would rape the man’s wife; but that was only the beginning.
The man’s four year-old daughter was forced to watch as her
mother was sexually assaulted and then shot dead. The little girl
watched in horror as her father was murdered before she was killed
herself. The sounds those people made, the little girl’s
screams, the mother repeatedly asking Dead Eye to take her daughter
out of the room before he did his deed while the man’s cries of
mercy for his family fell on deaf ears, left Simone and Pepper
shocked and stunned. They’d never seen such treachery and
wanted no part in the raping and killing of innocent women and
children.
Dead Eye, Big Bounce, Q-man and Toodie often made Pepper and Simone
sick to their stomachs over some of the crimes they committed, and at
the same time, it gave them deep insight into Toodie and her friends’
attitude when it came to the game and neither liked what they’d
seen. Toodie, Dead Eye, Big Bounce and Q-man were the type that
killed their own friends, belittled people in public and cared about
no one and nothing but themselves; they weren’t for crew, which
was the very thing Carmella had stood for when she was alive. And it
would be for that reason and that reason alone, that there would
always be a certain amount of animosity lying just below the surface
of what was once a well-oiled machine. Carmella’s death had
severely deteriorated the gang in Fox Park. Toodie was trying to keep
things in order, but most of the click was now scattered and fending
for themselves; doing whatever needed to be done in order to survive.
With Simone on her side, Pepper was prepared to make some major moves
of her own on the streets of Saint Louis. Simone may have been older,
she’d even schooled Pepper on the game, but Pepper was far more
intelligent and had a more ambitious drive and had been taught well
by Carmella the four years she’d spent with the woman. She was
scoring a half kilo on her own and was now looking to form her own
crew with the help of Simone, her partner in crime and sister from
another mother.
Simone sat across from Pepper chomping down on her wings. She made
eye contact with her friend and nodded towards the living room where
Dead Eye, Big Bounce and Q-man were parked on the couch playing
Pepper’s Playstation.
“I wish she call so they can get the fuck on,” Pepper
said, loud enough for the men to her speaking.
Q-man sucked his teeth and shook his head. He was ready to get gone
himself; but Toodie had gotten herself locked up a week earlier when
she was busted with a half-ounce of crack cocaine in the drive thru
of the McDonald’s on Jefferson Avenue and he needed to be
around to catch her call.
Dead Eye and Big Bounce were looking for another score so they could
get Ann Avenue pumping again and they was hoping Toodie could put
them up on a lick. They’d scoped out Pepper’s supplier, a
Mexican named Malik Gomez, who lived on the opposite end of Fox Park,
but they quickly understood that ‘The Gomez Boys’, as
Malik and his crew were known by on the streets of Fox Park, didn’t
fuck around. Malik and his crew were strapped at all times, vacated
the area when they sold out and nobody knew where they went when they
left Fox Park.
Malik and his boys were hard to get to, and unbeknownst to the crew
on Ann Avenue, they were affiliated with the Chicago Gang. Malik’s
suppliers were unknown, and as far as everybody in Fox Park knew, he
was the man.
“Yo, we gone handle that tonight.” Simone yelled out to
Q-man.
“Somebody need to. Her ass riding ‘round like it’s
all good,” Q-man replied. “Look, soon as I talk to Toodie
I’m gone.”
“Yeah. Soon as we talk to Toodie we gone,” Big Bounce
repeated seriously.
“Well, why ya’ here how about getting your foot off our
coffee table?” Pepper said as she leaned back in her seat and
looked out into the living room. Big Bounce grunted as he removed his
thick calf from the circular glass table and sat up in his seat.
These were dangerous men Pepper and Simone were dealing
with—murderous vultures with numerous bodies under their belts,
but the girls were holding their own. Pepper had upgraded her
artillery from a .380 to a seventeen shot Glock .9 and was prepared
for whatever; Simone was a twelve gauge fanatic. She never left home
without her fifteen shot semi-automatic twelve gauge, a weapon she
affectionately called Roscoe.
For the most part, everybody from Ann Avenue got along because they
were all involved in the same occupation and had a vested interest,
which was the almighty dollar. Conversations were kept to a minimum
because outside of cash, the crew had nothing in common. They could
care less what went on outside their joint business ventures.
Nearly an hour later, Simone’s phone rang. “Her she go,
y’all.”
“Yes!” Pepper exclaimed. “Now they can get up out
our spot.”
Simone accepted the collect call and Toodie didn’t even
acknowledge her; all she asked was Q-man over to the house.
“Hello to you, too,” Simone said as she pulled the phone
from her ear and handed it to Q-man.
“Yo?”
“You talk to our boy?”
“Nahh. That’s why I was waiting on you. I need a number
on dude.”
“It’s the same one. You got a new burner so he don’t
know your number and he ain’t gone answer. All that time I kept
gettin’ those unknown phone calls from Missouri and it was him.
Who woulda figured?”
“That’s what we needed though. How I get in touch with
dude?”
“Leave a message and he gone hit you back. Give your number to
Simone, too, so she can pass it to me. We need to stay in touch and
set something up for when I get out next year.”
“Next year?”
“Yeah, man. Bitches got me dead right comin’ out the
drive thru. I’m gone take a thirteen month plea on possession,
but I be out in about ten or eleven. It’s cool. I need to sit
my ass down for a minute because shit was gettin’ outta
control.”
“Alright. We gone hold your bread unless we need it.”
“That’s cool. How them li’l girls doing?”
“They some g’s. Make ya’ wanna bust they head
sometimes, but they real with it. They should be ‘round when
you get out.”
“This our deal, though. I don’t want them involved in our
business on that level. We take care our end we back where we were
before my girl got killed last October.”
“That’s what’s up. I’m gone call dude before
I leave out for the Ap. He might be in town and I could link up with
‘em and get that info firsthand.”
“Do that. And when I get out it’s on.”
“Your fam from down the road say you know something?”
Q-man asked, a coded question in which he was asking Toodie did she
know of a good lick for Dead Eye and Big Bounce.
“You would have to come see me for that, homeboy. I ain’t
talkin’ like that on this wire. Just roll like you been
rollin’—but stay off the radar until I get out. We gone
be paid I’m tellin’ ya’.”
“You know your word good with me. I be here. Hollar when you
touch down.”
“Si. Tell them boys beside you to do the same. Everybody
maintain. Let me hollar at that girl before this phone cut off.”
Q-man whistled to get Simone’s attention as he held out the
phone.