by De'Kari
Next, Gunz addressed Johnny Spitz, “J-Spitta, I want your best to guard my queen. I’m placing my world into your hands. I don’t want no one let in. If you see a She-Wolf kill her on site….”
“Hold the fuck up, Gunz.” Both Cantelope and French Tip spoke up at the same time interrupting him, but Gunz didn’t waiver.
“That woman is all I have in this world and if something happens to her, no-one will know peace.” The entire time he spoke Gunz stared deep into Johnny Spitz eyes. His look sent chills down Johnny’s spine. He needed to know that his response was sealed with conviction.
“Say no moe, Big Homie, I got you, my nigga.” Johnny knew that he wasn’t staring at a man. He was seeing Death’s Demon.
The energy level in the hallway intensified with so much electricity you could power a small generator.
“Get ahold of A.J. and DeeDee and tell them to dress the kids for church.” He was instructing Big Rocc.
Suddenly he heard A.J.’s voice. “We already right here, family. Sorry it took us so long, that 580 traffic is a mothafucka. And we already locked and loaded!” A.J. spoke as he and DeeDee walked up to the group.
A.J. made his way through the group to give his big cousin a hug.
“Peace be still, my brotha. I know your pain…”
“You don’t know my pain, Dok! No-one does.” When he turned to face Dok, Gunz had tears in his eyes. He wasn’t ashamed to let them fall freely down his cheeks.
He bit down on his lip and took a deep breath then spoke. “Now the first time you asked me to fall back cause one of yours got touched. I didn’t want to, but I did out of respect. Regardless of what happened or how, that shit just landed on my door step.” Gunz paused so that shit could sink in because his next words were meant for all. “Dis Town Bizness now and Anybody Can Get it!”
Gunz saw the way Scooter and Rell tensed up at his comment, but he didn’t give a fuck! They could get it too!
Dok knew the look that he saw in Gunz eyes. He recognized it all too well because he himself had the very same look in his eyes when he lost the love of his life, the boys mother. So, he knew there was no talking or reasoning with Gunz, so he didn’t try. Instead, he nodded his head in agreement.
A stunned and angry French Tip looked confused as Gunz turned towards Big Rocc and his team and said, “Let’s do what we do!” and marched out of the hospital on a mission. She didn’t know who it was with, but she knew it was war!
**** N. D. ****
She didn’t know what to think, let alone know what to do. The shit that she had just heard was beyond believable. They were all family. The bad times were supposed to be over, but it seems that things just kept getting fucked up. She needed her brother. If Voorheeze was woke, everything would be okay.
Again, she had to ask herself could it be possible? Was what she heard true? She couldn’t believe that Clark had tried to kill Nastasia. Hearing that he was the one responsible for shooting up the youth centers and harassing the workers, was just as unbelievable. Not her big brother.
She had heard the rumors in the street about someone robbing one of his stash spots and throwing the money all out in the streets. Is this what all of this is behind? Money! She pounded her fist on the steering wheel out of frustration while the tears fell. Mothafuckas had the nerve to keep this away from her, but fuck that! She was going to get some muthafuckin' answers and she was going to get them right fucking now!
The tires of her pink and black Challenger screeched loudly as they skidded across the paved street when she slammed on her brakes. French Tip could give a fuck about the neighbors or disturbing the peace. In her anger she grabbed her pistol and tucked it inside of the holster clipped on the back of her pants once she stood up.
“This mothafucka done clearly lost his mothafucking mind!” she mumbled to herself as her Louboutin’s clicked and clacked against the concrete and carried her to his front door. French Tip didn’t knock on the door once she got to it. She banged on it like she’d lost her mothafucking mind.
It took a full two minutes for him to answer the front door and she’d banged on it the entire time.
“God damn, sis! Is you crazy? Banging on the door like you done lost your mind.” Clark asked her when he finally opened the door a crack.
He had a robe on and his gun in his left hand. Wasn’t no telling who it was banging on his door that time of night.
From the smell of incense and sex that drifted to her nose, French Tip knew he had company. “Oh well!” She thought.
“Naw, nigga, but apparently you’re not only crazy but you done went and lost your natural mind too.” She told him as she pushed her way past him and into the house.
“French, now ain’t the time.” He hurried up and closed the door and followed her into the living room.
“Now’s the only time!” She wasn’t hearing his bullshit. She was too fired up.
The girl that was laying under the covers by the fire quickly sat up and covered her naked breast as best she could with the comforter when French Tip stormed into the room.
“I’m sorry to interrupt yo groove honey, but you got ta go!” her head and hand both snapped in sequence as she told the girl to leave.
“H-Huh?” Spirit fearfully stuttered. The woman standing over her looked like she was on the verge of a break down.
“Don’t stutter, honey, get up and go.” The conviction in French Tips voice told Spirit not to ask another question.
When she stood up, French Tip did a double take. The girl had the biggest ass she had ever seen in her life. No wonder her brother didn’t want to be interrupted.
“Baby gone into the other room for a minute while I talk to my lil sister.” Spirit could breathe a little easier at the revelation that it was his little sister and not some crazed lover.
“Okay this mothafucka think I’m playing.” French Tip mumbled to herself as she reached behind her back and pulled out her 9mm.
“Now, I didn’t say shit bout hiding in no room. I said get the fuck out! Now she could leave this mothafucka, (she cocked the nine back putting one in the head) or she could leave this mothafucka! Clark, try me if you want to.”
He didn’t know what was bothering his little sister, but this wasn’t her. Not wanting to see just how far she was willing to go, Clark wrapped his arms around a trembling Spirit and looked into her frightened eyes. She was innocent, a square, so he could only imagine her fright.
He kissed her deeply and passionately telling her all the things that he couldn’t say. When he finally broke the kiss he said to her, “Baby get dressed in the room and head home. As soon as I’m done with my sis, I’ll call you.”
Feeling like a little girl after that kiss, Spirit sashayed her way down the hall to do as she was told. Neither sibling spoke a word while she was in the room. Clark did take that opportunity to walk over to his bar to roll a blunt. Just as he sparked the blunt, Spirit came down the hall. After one more deep and passionate kiss, she was gone, not before saying goodbye to French Tip, who didn’t respond.
Once he heard Spirit’s truck pull off he turned his attention to his sister. “Alright, so tell me what’s the emergency?”
“You gone play me like I’m some dumb bitch, huh?” She couldn’t believe the audacity of this nigga.
“Look you came over here with something on your mind, so talk.” She was his sister and all, but Clark still didn’t like being questioned.
“Clark, how could you? We’re family.” She began to cry. “Nastasia…” was all she could get out.
Realizing now what this was about he corrected her. “No! We!” He pointed back and forth between them, “Are Family! They’re outsiders. I tried to tell brah that shit, but he wouldn’t listen.” She knew her ears were hearing him clearly, but she still couldn’t accept what he was saying.
“Mothafucka, are you crazy? It may have been Voorheeze that brought you in to the fold, but it was the family as a whole that made this shit possible! You wouldn’t
be shit without us!” She spat out, full off hurt and anger, as she pounded on her chest trying to get him to understand her reasoning. “Whether you choose to accept it or not, mothafucka, we are family.”
Clark walked over to the couch and sat down. He took a few drags off the blunt, giving himself time to formulate his next statement.
“Them mothafuckas that you are siding with drew first blood when they drew their imaginary line telling me what to do in my city and where I can and can’t do it at. I didn’t cause nor start this war, but I’ll be damned if I’ma fall back from it. They sent you over here thinking our bond will cause me to fold. Now that, that niggaz slut was touched, mothafuckas want to talk? Ain’t shit to talk about!” There was the truth. Even without saying it, he just admitted that it was him that got at Nastasia.
She knew it all along but just didn’t want to accept it. Now she didn’t have a choice. The pain trapped her voice in her chest preventing her from being able to speak.
“You’re my little sister and I love you.” He took a hit off of the blunt and blew the smoke out through his nose. “But since you riding with them, you gotta go! And the next time you see me, I advise you to squeeze.” When the words left his mouth, his demeanor was so laid back and relaxed that it sent chills through her body.
This mothafucka had to have lost his natural, mothafucking mind, she thought to herself. French Tip couldn’t believe the level of disrespect that he was issuing. The pressure that she felt pressed up against the small of her back reminded her of her pistol. For a minute, she contemplated blowing his mothafucking head off right then and there. But she’d delivered the news.
Now she didn’t trust herself to speak. If she were to verbalize her feelings, her words would betray her emotions. The results, no doubt, would be catastrophic! Instead she just glared at him for a second. French could see that the money had gone to his head. She wasn’t seeing her brother. She was looking at a mothafucking problem! This mothafucka had actually threatened her!
With that in mind, she took a deep breath and slowly stood up. He didn’t even look at her. He didn’t have to. Clark knew that underneath her killer exterior, his sister had a big heart. She wouldn’t do anything unless she was pushed.
French Tip walked out of the house with her aura so calm, it spoke volumes of the storm that was brewing inside of her! By the way she walked back to her car and drove off, no-one could have guessed that she was using all her restraint not to murder some shit.
Part III
My Brotha’s Keeper
Chapter XVI
East Oakland
Dok sat in the leather office chair fuming. The half empty glass of Hennessey Privilege resting on top of the desk in front of him was evidence of his level of anger. He reached for the glass. This time downing it completely before setting the empty glass back down and reflecting on the orders again for the umpteenth time.
Word came down from the Central Committee by way of the Military Intelligence. The Committee had given the Green Light on a surgical Military strike against Clark and his forces just as Dok figured they would. They also delivered a blow to his strategic plans that he was not contemplating. As Commanding Officer of Ground Forces, it was deemed that the risk and setbacks, of his involvement by the police, or worse, his untimely demise by the hands of opposing forces. Would present too great of a blow to the forward goal of the collective.
Long story short, Dok was ordered by the committee to step aside and allow Mtambo, Executive Commanding Officer of the “Elite Guerilla Unit” full access of ground forces and command of military personnel.
Elite Guerilla Unit, better known as EGU, was made up of Cadres of forces all highly trained in the arts and practices of Guerilla Warfare, they specialized in everything in weaponry from knives and small arms to machine gun fire and heavy artillery. Each Cadre and member were specialist in multiple forms of hand to hand combat, explosives, demolition as well as poisons.
While Dok and his Cadre of Ground Troop Forces had been overseeing the fruition of Elysian Fields and Nu Africa, the rest of Military and Cadre personnel were doing their parts in getting the People’s Army ready. An army of New African Revolutionary Nationalist.
Elysian Fields was just one part in a massive movement to bring about a new government of, by and for the people. As much as Dok didn’t’ like the order, he had no choice but to follow it. The refusal or disobeying of a direct order or mandate passed down by the committee was an automatic neutralization of one’s self. Dok wasn’t about to sign his own death certificate.
Under normal circumstances no general or senior commander would ever allow his men to be under the leadership and command of another general or commander. Due to the circumstances, Dok didn’t have any choice but to allow some of his personnel to be apart of the detachment. There was a possibility that there would be hostile friendlies in the combat zone.
No-one had heard from Gunz and his team since they stormed out of the hospital. Considering there was no doubt that Gunz was hell bent on destruction and death, the possibility that they would find themselves in the middle of the designated target zone, for that reason members of Dok’s Cadre would be needed for identification purposes. No-one wanted any self-inflicted casualties.
For their own security measures one brother wouldn’t allow the other to go alone even though they were all Guerillas. Because of this, both of his sons ended up going on the strike with EGU. Dok’s nerves were working overtime as he listened to the mission unfold. A micro Electronic Radio Transmitting Device or ERTD was attached to the outside lapel of Scoots black camouflage army fatigues. It was transmitting via blue tooth to the Echo speaker that was next to the empty glass of Hennessey.
**** N. D. ****
East Palo Alto
“Alpha, Bravo. This is Charlie. Everything is quiet. We are a go.” The voice came over everyone’s earpiece. It was Cuana, second in command of the Usalama Squad and a member of military intelligence.
Cuana was leading the Recon Cadre and was responsible for the extraction of the Strike Unit. Given that the New African Revolutionaries primary and principle enemy was the United States government, their level of sophistication in all aspects was way beyond anything that anybody in the ghetto was used to or capable of dealing with.
Cuana was positioned on the roof of the house on the corner of Jervis and Alberni, looking at the targeted house which was located a third of the way up Jervis. She was watching the house through a pair of HD-1 High Resolution Night Vision Binoculars, equipped with infrared and thermo-nuclear lenses. They were the newest in advanced military special operations vision ware.
Aside from Cuana, members of the Usalama Squad were positioned on the corner of Bay Road and Jervis and behind the target house on Westminster. The triangular position of the team would ensure the hot-zone was secure.
Outside of the targeted house two niggaz dressed in all black were on point keeping security. Due to the night chill, they both had on thick jackets. The shorter of the two niggaz was smoking a cigarette while facing the street telling the second nigga a story about some chick he took home the other night from the strip club.
The taller of the two niggaz had his back to the streets, hands in his pockets, listening to the story with his head buried inside of his jacket. They were waiting on Mann Blac and Avery to pull up with the new shipment of product. The house on Jervis was only a cook house but with the situation that happened over in the Gardens, Clark wasn’t taking any chances whatsoever.
The two niggaz on security standing in front of the house were so engrossed in each others company that they didn’t see the black Harley Davis truck pulling up with a Yukon Denali XL right behind it. Both vehicles pulled up to the house on the 1200 block of Jervis. Once both cars came to complete stops, Manny Blac climbed out of the driver’s seat of the Harley truck with his little cousin climbing out of the passenger seat.
Cuana waited for Avery to climb out of the Yukon. The intelligence report inform
ed everyone that the kilos of cocaine were in the back of the Yukon. With the patience of a Venus fly trap, she waited.
On cue, a burgundy Dodge Caravan came silently rolling down Alberni unseen by the group that was now congregating on the sidewalk in front of the house. Though they couldn’t make out the words that were being spoken, it was evident that Manny Blac was giving instructions on what was to be done with the product.
Just when the caravan made it to the corner of Jervis and Alberni, an all black 2016 Porsche Cayenne turned onto Jervis off Bay Road heading in the direction of the hot-zone.
The Usalama Squad (security & safety squad) was able to see everything play out from their positions on the rooftops.
“U’Tayari (ready)….” A few seconds ticked away ever so slowly “Ansa! (go).” Cuana spoke into her mouthpiece as she squeezed the trigger of her sniper rifle. The sound suppressor on the powerful rifle muffled the sound as the deadly projectile was sent soaring through the night sky.
The nigga that was telling the story when the vehicles pulled up was still smoking his cigarette as Manny was finishing his instructions. He pulled out the Newport 100. The cherry glowed bright red and then all of a sudden not only did the cherry disappear, but the entire cigarette vanished. A fraction of a second later, blood and brain matter burst out the back of his head as the projectile fired by Cuana slammed into his mouth where the cigarette used to be and tore thru his medulla oblongata and out the back of his head. He was dead long before the blood landed on the pavement.
No-one noticed the cherry or cigarette disappear, nor heard a gunshot, but all of them saw his body fly backwards violently from the force of the bullet crashing into his head. Niggaz immediately dropped for cover and grabbed for their weapons. Two of the niggaz that rode in the Yukon with Avery ran and hid behind the truck.
Manny Blac was the only one to realize the shooter was on the roof and was looking up while a figure in black army fatigues and a fatigue beanie jumped out of the caravan.