by De'Kari
“Ladies and gentlemen do not be misunderstood, these are not your typical urban, ghetto gangsters. These are highly sophisticated a committed people to their cause. A cause that quite simply is the overthrowing of the united states government. They are very well trained in military principals and tactics.”
This right here,” the lens on the projector clicked once she pressed a button on the adjacent Apple notebook. A picture of a gentleman appeared on the wall. “Is Darrell Haynee aka Dok Holliday. He’s from Berkeley, California. In his early 20’s he was sentenced to twenty years for murder for hire. It is our belief that it was actually a sanctioned execution ordered by the higher ups that went wrong.”
“During his twenty-year stint Mr. Haynee is suspected of leaving a trail of bodies all over California. Needless to say, our shining young revolutionary slash killer rose through the ranks. Going from enforcer to leader of the most powerful and dangerous domestic terrorist organization our nation has ever seen. The agency has been watching not only him but a list of his associates and comrades.”
“The late Thomas “T’Rida” Smith, La’Mont D. Simpson, Dwayne “DJ” Wilson…” Chief Vieria no longer heard anything else. The revelation of La’Mont being connected to such a dangerous organization hit her right in the face.
Chief Vieira had heard of the notorious Black Guerilla Family. They were often called B.G.F. or Jamaa which was Swahili for Family. The few she’d come across or heard of were indeed dangerous. They were very well disciplined, quiet and secretive. Yet they were connected or charged with being connected to some very heinous crimes.
“…which brings us to Neva Die and our current wave of violence. We believe internal strife has caused a split and a civil war is brewing” Lieutenant Wynn turned towards the room to see if everyone was following her.
“Uh, excuse me. What is the connection with this Organization and our serial killer?” Hedgecock took her momentary paused to ease what was on his mind.
“Yes, well Mr. Levell Jenkins, our serial killer just happens to be E.G.U. ,which stands for Elite Guerilla Unit. It is a highly trained special forces within the organization. He and Mr. Simpson or Jason Voorheeze as he is known, were both apart of the same cadre which is an individualized cell operating independently of the group but still within the group.
“Jason Voorheeze was the commanding officer and Jenkins was his first lieutenant. Hence the name, Batman and Robin was given to the two of them. Their combined suspected body count is more than Dommer, Manson, Tim McVey and Zeno Kowinski all combined. After a botched attempt on a wealthy, racist, Texas oil baron running for State Senate, the cadre was disassembled. Robin ended up in prison on a drug trafficking charge and Batman simply disappeared.”
“We suspect Simpson tracked down Jenkins and together they decided to rebirth their old antics by waging war on the police in retaliation of one of their fallen comrades, T’Rida ,Thomas Smith.”
The room was silent. Aside from the Bureau, no-one knew what to expect from the meeting. They damn sure weren’t expecting this.
Special Agent Andreatta took her cue “Our proposal is simple. We step up surveillance to extend to every member of the organization including the ex-members that have split off. Eventually, someone in the organization will lead us to Mr. Batman.”
Chapter XVII
San Leandro, California
When Tut came to his body was shaking involuntary from the cold. He was stripped butt-ass naked and hanging from a steel plumbing pipe that was thirty-four inches in diameter with an old rusted chain that was bound tightly around his hands and wrist.
Aches and pains shot through his body like aftershocks on miniature fault lines after a major earthquake. Or like the spidery cracks that form on a damaged egg shell. His lips had two different gashes in them. One of his eyes was swollen shut. The other had a gash above it.
He had no clue how long he had been there, but he knew it was a few days at least. He could only imagine that he had passed out again from the excruciating pain caused by what they were doing to him. His head felt like it was in a vice grip, pressure compounded, ready to burst from the many blows to it with the brass knuckles.
Tut was a true gangsta through and through! He was the epitome of Blood Gang, the finest product of the Piru nation. Though he was indeed Blood Gang, anybody claiming red period, would be proud of him cause bitch was not in his blood!
He looked around as best he could, trying to find a means of escape out of the cold, dark room. Best he could tell, he was in some type of large freezer or meat locker. His head pounded as he strained for a look, yet still he tried.
A light scrape from behind him caught his attention. He hadn’t sensed a presence in the room before, but he knew someone was behind him. The faint scraping sound was barely audible, but he had heard it.
“I’ll give it to your fat ass, you got heart and I respect that. But I promised you, blood, I’ll either break you or you’ll break. “The emphasis that Gunz put on the word blood was evidence that he was taunting Tut.
Tut didn’t know it, but four of his ribs were already broken. Still, after two beatings he hadn’t uttered a sound.
Gunz walked from behind Tut so he could face him. His shirt was off and even though they were in an industrial meat storage container, his torso was completely covered in sweat from exertion. The beatings had been literal. Gunz had used his two fists to pummel Tut, at least up until now.
In his hands Gunz was holding a 2ft long steel sailors pipe wrench. The menacing tool had the desired effect on Tut. He tried not to let it show, but fear engulfed his entire body like fog. There was no mistaking the damage it could cause.
“This shit is real simple, cuzzo. You didn’t give my baby an option but I’m giving you one. Where Clark lay his head?” When Tut didn’t respond, Gunz lifted the massive wrench onto his shoulder.
Tut didn’t know what to think. Time slowed down, and it felt like his senses were heightened. He could hear a trickle of water off in the distance from a leaky pipe. He tried to take a deep breath and winced from the pain of the broken ribs.
Before he knew it, a blinding white light expanded in his head as pain like he had neva felt before originated in his left leg and soared through his body to his brain.
Even if Gunz wouldn’t have swung the pipe wrench with all of his might, it would’ve done damage. As it was the moment the bulky metal collided with his thigh, the bone snapped like a bread stick.
Tut bit down so hard on his bottom lip to keep from crying out, that a fresh stream of blood flowed from it.
“Damn, nigga! You’s a tough mothafucka. Not one peep huh?”
Gunz swung the pipe wrench back to his shoulder again “let’s just see what the fuck we can do about that.”
Without hesitation he swung the pipe wrench like a professional baseball player, level and strong. This time it was inevitable. He connected on the same side that Tut had the four broken ribs. The rest gave away like a house made out of a deck of cards blown over. Tut let out a bone shattering, deep animalistic roar! The pain caused by all his ribs breaking simultaneously was like none other.
“That’s what I’m talking about! Bitch you came into my castle and violated my Queen!” He swung again. This time he connected to the other side of Tuts upper torso. No sound emitted from his mouth this time for Tut simply blacked out.
The bucket of ice-cold water splashed in his face brought Tut back to consciousness. His body was beyond pain. So much so that he could no longer feel the pain. Gunz had put the pipe wrench down and used Tuts broken body for a punching bag. Nothing on earth ever felt so excruciating. This was the fourth time Gunz had woke him back up.
Tut could barely see. Both eyes were swollen beyond vision, but he could just barely make out Gunz’ silhouette with the glock .47 in his hand.
“Had y’all succeeded in killing my Queen, your torment and pain would be ongoing. But she’s alive. I won’t be able to say the same for you though.” Gunz raised
his hand ready to blow this niggaz’ head off.
Tut was straining with every ounce of his soul to say something. His lungs couldn’t suck in enough air to talk. Gunz lowered the gun in humor to see what the nigga would say.
“B-Bl-Blood…” just to talk felt like he had gotten hit by a Mack Truck. Gunz waited.
“B-Blood Gang, C-Street B-Bitch!” He laughed maniacally. Fuck the pain it was worth it to see the look on Gunz face.
He didn’t hesitate to put five slugs into Tut’s swollen head. It burst like a piñata.
Silently Gunz was happy Tut didn’t bitch out. He had always respected the little niggaz gangsta. It’s too bad Clark split the family they could’ve been a dynasty.
**** N. D. ****
San Jose
“No, she really is a nice girl. He brought her by here the other day, so I could meet her.”
Mama B was on the phone with one of her sisters just gossiping away.
“Tell me B, is she cute?” Her sister asked feeding into the gossiping.
“Huh, cute doesn’t begin to describe it. Girl, she is gorgeous! With that kind of body you got to workout ten hours a day to get it.” Mama B pictured the girl in her head then added, “I’m telling you that girl has got the biggest ass I have ever seen!”
“How you gone say that Bernie, when you got that big ol’ booty you got.”
“Shit, compared to her, my booty is flat as an ironing board. “Her sister started cracking up laughing. Growing up mama B, always got teased about how big her butt was. For her to tell her sister that, the girls butt must have been outrageous.
“I’m telling you girl and she has the sweetest name…” just then there was a knock at the door “Hold on girl, someone’s at my door.”
Even though she was going to look in the peephole, Mama B still yelled out who is it. Her eyes confirmed what she had heard.
The UPS delivery man was standing in front of her door with his all brown shorts suit on. She disengaged her alarm then opened the door.
“Afternoon Ma’am. I have a package for Ms. B.” The little fat brotha barely stated. He was out of breath from climbing up the three flights of stairs. She signed for the box then accepted.
Would you like a bottle of water, honey?” He nodded his head yes looking like she asked if he wanted a million dollars.
After she closed the door, she walked and sat the box on her dining room table.
“Girl shut up. Somebody done sent me a nice big ol’ box.” She told her sister as she retrieved a bottle of crystal geyser out of the refrigerator.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, I’m giving the man a water first.”
“Well, who is it from?” Her sister needed to know something, the suspense was killing her.
“I didn’t look. Shit, all I did was sign for it, so he could gimme my shit. I only offered him a water cause it looked like his fat ass was gone drop dead on my doorstep.” They both laughed at that.
She cut through the tape with a pair of scissors. She moved some of the popcorn filler out of the way then stuck her hands in and picked up what was in the box. She thought it was odd that it was circular and cold. Once it came out the box and she realized what it was. She dropped it and screamed at the top of her lungs. She screamed for so long that her sister began to worry. It was a full five minutes before she was able to pick up the phone and tell her sister that she would have to call her back. Even though she could hear her sister yelling in the background wanting to know what was wrong, she didn’t bother answering. Right then she needed to make a call!
Forty-eight minutes later a pounding came on the door. She didn’t bother asking who it was or looking through the peephole. She opened the door and let her first-born in. Clark rushed right to her and took his mother into his arms.
Feeling the warmth and security of her baby’s embrace, she broke down like a little girl. As all the fear she’d been holding back was finally let go. The tears rocked her body as Clark held her firmly in his embrace. As she cried he guided her into the apartment.
He felt bad. His heart was heavy because he knew that the responsibility was his. He didn’t know how mothafuckas found her address, but unmistakably the package was meant for him.
“Mama, where’s it at?” He didn’t want to seem uncompassionate, but he had business to attend to. He had to get rid of it. It couldn’t be found here.
Mama B just cried and pointed over to her dining room table. He let her go and walked over to the table. The box was sitting alone atop the table with it’s flaps open. Mama B hadn’t bothered trying to close it back. Clark looked inside the box and then removed the contents. Anger boiled through his blood as rage shot through his body. He knew he needed to control his composure for the sake of his mom.
He held in his hands the lifeless decapitated head of Tut, whose eyes were still wide open. Also, in the box were both of his severed hands. The message was sent, and it was loud and clear! They could be touched too!
Clark pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Get up here” was all he said.
Moments later there was another knock on the door. Clark walked over and let Man Man in. He pointed to the box and told Man Man to get rid of it. Man Man didn’t hesitate in doing what was told to him.
Tut’s baby mama called Clark that night after Gunz and them had taken him. He did as much damage control as he could but in the end, he wouldn’t sugar coat it. He told her to go buy a new black dress. It was only a matter of time before the evidence of his prediction surfaced.
If things couldn’t get any more fucked up, French Tip came through the front door.
“Oh, Mami.” Mama B left out of her sons arms and into her daughters. Clark may have been the first born, but French Tip was her only daughter, her baby girl.
Clark didn’t feel like being in the same room as his sister. It was her people that were fucking with his. She was a traitor in his eyes. Lines were crossed, and sides chosen, and she had picked the wrong side.
French Tip looked over at Clark, “Who was it?” She asked. (She was on her way to the hospital to see Voorheeze when her mother had called her).
Who was it? Like she gives a fuck! He thought to himself. He had to be the bigger person for his mom.
“It was Tut.” Their cousin. His second in command. They hadn’t touched a foot soldier, they got his second in command. Not to mention the cook house.
French Tip’s mind was racing, she had too much going on. She didn’t even think before she spoke. “I tried to tell you to dead it.” The moment she spoke she realized her mistake.
Mama B tensed up at her baby girls’ words. She broke away from her daughters’ arms.
“What you mean you tried to tell him?” Mama B’s head swiveled back and forth between her two children. “Clark, what is she talking about?”
Clark just stood there glaring at his sister wanting to punch her right in her big mouth.
When she realized he wouldn’t speak, Mama B yelled out “God damn it! I’m you guy’s mother! What the hell do you got going on?” She looked over at French Tip and the tears started falling again.
“It’s nothing mami, I was just talking.” She hated to see her mother cry.
“You know what, I’m sixty-three years old. I can’t take this shit no more. I’m tired! I’ve done it all and I’m tired. Both of you need to get out.” Her tears had miraculously dried up.
They both felt bad. Clark felt the worst. He tried to walk over to his mother and give her a hug.
“Get out!!” She yelled at the top of her lungs while pointing at the door. “Get the hell out of my house!”
**** N. D. ****
Lt. Urena sat nervously in his car fidgeting with his fingers, shakily he reached for another piece of gum and popped it in his mouth. He was trying to take the edge off.
When Gunz came around the back of the abandoned warehouse, Lt. Urena grew a little relaxed but he was still a nervous wreck. It didn’t make matters any
better when he saw that Gunz wasn’t alone. Urena climbed out of his truck which was recovered from the town house Batman was using.
“I thought we agreed that no-one would ever accompany us at any of these meetings?” Urena didn’t even let Gunz fully climb out of the Infinity truck.
A.J. and Big Rocc were sitting in the truck along with D.J. Gunz waved the question off. Shit was way too crazy for him to be riding anywhere solo right now.
“Look, shit’s kind of hot right now. So, my niggaz move when I move and where I move. Tell me what’s so urgent that you insisted on us meeting right now?” The nervousness and worry on Urena’s face didn’t bother Gunz. The crooked pig was probably worried because somebody had gotten hip to him.
Urena looked around for a minute. He could feel eyes on him. He’s been a cop too long not to know the feeling.
“Somebody’s watching us.” He told a nonchalant Gunz’ who laughed at him. “Look, I’m telling you somebody is watching us.”
“Shit, they done seen us now. If they’re coming, let ‘em come. Until they do, why don’t you start talking.” Gunz didn’t have time for no paranoid shit. Hell, he had shit to do.
Urena looked around one more time. Then, he looked at Gunz with a puzzled look as if he had neva seen him before.
“Shit’s about to get just a little hotter, homie.” Urena told him before he went on to explain to him everything the Captain had briefed all of the department on a few hours ago regarding her meeting with the FBI and the SSU.
It took about ten minutes for him to tell Gunz everything. When Urena was finished, he was surprised Gunz stood before him like he didn’t just get told that not one, but two federal agencies were investigating and potentially hunting them.
“Are you just going to stand there? You’re not going to say nothing!” Urena couldn’t understand it. He, himself would be shitting bricks if he had been told what he told Gunz.