The homies all loaded their weapons as I put on a CD from my hood nigga, Large Flava, a.k.a. Big L. He was a DJ who put out hits and also played local artists’ material like this one now by Kaotic Da General. The song “Bang” featured Blackass, another artist from Harrisburg. All these guys were representing hard through their lyrics and lifestyle.
At 8:04 p.m., back at the hospital in Harrisburg, Jason D. Dawight, also known as JD, was laid up in the bed from his wounds. He still feared Tommy Guns, who he deemed the face of evil. Tommy Guns figured JD was dead from the two powerful slugs that tore through his body, but this fool was like a cat with nine lives. JD assisted the Feds in taking down Tommy Guns and his cousins with their drug ring, but now he was feeling as if he was back in the same position as before with this crazy muthafucka looking for him. He didn’t realize that Tommy seeing him was pure coincidence.
Now the Feds were standing over him wanting to know what he knew. This was especially true since the nurses said while he was in and out thinking that death was coming to him sooner than later, he kept saying “Tommy Guns is a devil. Tommy did it.”
When the nurses heard this, they felt a need to contact local law enforcement, who reached out to the Feds.
“JD, he came for you, and now he’ll come again,” Agent Johnson said. “I just got back in town today. How the hell did he know I was here?” JD questioned them, with fear in his eyes.
“If that’s the case, then it means he was in town for other purposes, and you just so happened to cross paths. It’s called karma. You did set the guy up.”
JD couldn’t believe he was hearing this shit. I know what the fuck karma is, he was thinking.
“So, what does he look like now?” Agent Johnson questioned.
“The devil. The fucking grim reaper. How the hell am I supposed to tell on him now, when he came back and shot me? As you said, karma. So, what now? I can’t take too many more bullets. This shit hurts,” he said while pointing to his body with the exit wounds from the slugs.
“We’re going to put you into witness protection. No one will be able to get to you. But if you tell us what he looks like now and what he’s driving, this could help bring him down, and you wouldn’t have to worry about witness protection,” Agent Johnson said.
The room fell silent from voices, other than the beeping machine that displayed his heartbeat and rhythm. However, the silence was broken as he described Tommy to a T and explained his features and weight loss, down to the vehicle he was driving. The Feds were all over this information, sending it back to headquarters so the other agents could be aware. It was also imperative to make the other agencies aware of his new look. In the meantime, they had someone watch JD’s room until he got better, and then he would go into the witness protection program.
This would be the life that JD would now have, since he chose to be a rat. Too bad Tommy Guns’ bullets didn’t kill him. Now Tommy would have another problem that he was not even aware of, with the Feds knowing his description and vehicle.
CHAPTER 14
AT 9:31 P.M. I was sitting in my truck in York with my Atlanta niggas down the street from Rico’s sister’s crib watching the traffic. I remembered the address from when we were out in the county together. He gave me her info to contact him along with the number that I used when they got me out.
With the traffic in and out, it was making me think that this nigga was selling my shit. I noticed Chino’s car was parked in front of the house. Rico’s CLS600 Benz was there, too.
“What up, Tommy Guns, we ready to lay these fools, or what?” Little T said.
I was processing the moves we needed to make so everything could go in sync, so we all would make it back down South.
“Yeah, we ready. Ra Ra, you and Little D hit the back door. Fat Money, you come with me. Geez, you cover the front door. Nobody that ain’t us comes in or out,” I said as I exited the truck.
They followed suit doing the same and taking their positions.
Inside of the house, Chino and Rico were looking at the bricks on the table, taking it in and seeing that they had just come up. Rico was snorting from a mini mountain he had on the table beside all the bricks of cocaine. Chino was also snorting the cocaine. He was high as a muthafucka.
“Oye, this is some grade-A shit. He wasn’t lying about that,” Rico said, touching his face and feeling how it became numb from snorting the cocaine.
“We going to be rich, bro,” Chino said while looking at all of the cocaine and taking another snort of the raw.
“Yeah, we gonna get this money, and the fiends is going to love this shit!” Rico said, drinking his Corona to chase his high.
“Did you tell Flaco or Angel about this, bro?” Chino asked.
“Nah, I couldn’t tell them about this move, bro. They respect Tommy Guns for the love he showed us. I do, too, but we needed to make this move, bro, to pay Dominican Manny in New York,” Rico said.
He was spending money faster than he could make it, which left him owing a violent drug kingpin in New York, Manny, who took the city over after King Jose died.
“Bro, you telling me you fucked up all of your money?” Chino asked in surprise because they all were living good.
“I was living crazy with all the trips to Vegas, Atlantic City, and Miami, as well as the women, the clubs, and the cars. You know, bro, so don’t judge me. I fucked up!” he admitted, now feeling regret for doing what he did robbing the big homie.
“Fuck it! We here now, bro, and we got the yayo,” Chino said while snorting another line. “Cono, this is good shit!” he said, tilting his head back and taking it all in.
A knock at the door got their attention. Rico covered up the cocaine while Chino went to answer the door. He could see it was a young buck that hung out with Rico’s nephew.
“Es Pito aqui?”
“Nah, he ain’t here right now.”
“Are you sure he’s not here?” the boy asked, pissing off Chino, who tried to look past him being nosey. “My mom said I can stay the night.”
“Come back in like thirty minutes. He’s not here right now. I’ll have him call you.”
“Okay, don’t forget,” the boy said as he walked away.
Chino closed the door, but within a few steps away from the door, he heard another knock.
“He better take his bad ass home,” Chino said while opening the door again.
As the curse words toward the little boy came out of his mouth, I swung around with the twin 10mm Tauruses and fired on him. He didn’t even have a chance to alert anyone in the house. By the time his body hit the floor, the young boy had taken off, while I made my way into the crib and walked past Chino’s lifeless body.
Rico heard the roaring of the gun and grabbed his MAC-11. Geez still covered the front door while Fat Money followed me inside with the AR-15 ready for war. Rico came in fast, charging into the living room and firing off rounds until Fat Money unleashed the AR-15 that forced him to retreat back into the other room.
“You fucked up by coming here, Tommy. You know my team ain’t going for that!” he yelled out as he was dialing up his brother.
~ ~ ~
Flaco picked up on the second ring, hearing the gunfire erupting in the back-ground.
“Bro, where are you?”
“Over at Carmen’s crib. These niggas are trying to rob me,” he lied to his brother before he hung up.
Flaco told Angel what was going down, so they raced over to Carmen’s house and parked halfway down to the street. They thought they’d try to get the drop on whoever was in the crib.
Flaco was strapped with the AK-47, while Angel boasted the 9mm Uzi as they approached the house ready for war.
~ ~ ~
An all-points bulletin was sent out for me at 9:45 p.m., with a new description and vehicle. The FBI also warned all law enforce-ment, “Tom ‘Tommy Guns’ Anderson is extremely dangerous. Approach with caution and guns drawn.”
“Rico, I’m going to kill you, mutha-f
uckas! I gave you and your team life in this game! If I had time, I would torture your sister, too, nigga!” I said, pissed and ready to take care of business with this nigga.
As I yelled out, Ra Ra and Little D kicked in the back door, which placed even more fear into Rico when he heard the door breached.
“Oye, punta! I’m going to kill your amigos. I hear them coming!” Rico said, aiming his gun toward the kitchen entrance and firing off a burst of rounds halting any entrance from that area. That shit only made Little D and Ra Ra want to kill his ass even more.
Rico recklessly fired another burst of rounds in my direction, sending slugs into the walls and furniture. Then I heard the clicking sound of an empty gun. Rico knew he had to think fast, so he looked over to where Chino’s body was lying and saw his gun by the table with the bricks of cocaine. Right then he ran toward the gun. That’s when me and Fat Money sprayed bullets, hitting him in his ass and legs and back-dropping him.
“Ahi Dios mio, cabron!” he yelled out, feeling the hot slugs burning his flesh.
We closed in on him, leaving him no chance to grab the gun and return fire.
“You stupid muthafucka, I gave you and your team a jump start on this game, plus I was blessing you with the bricks, and you did that dumb shit!”
“I fucked up, but what’s done is done, cabron. Shit happens!” he responded, know-ing the end was near.
“You right, shit does happen!” I said, squeezing the trigger and marring his face as the bullets tore his left side off and killed him instantly.
“Yo, Ra Ra, you and D sweep back out the back door. Money, you come with me,” I said, upon seeing the stack of bricks partially covered up. I secured the coke. That’s when I heard gunfire erupting outside. Geez was shooting out with Angel and Flaco.
“Toma! Toma! Toma!” Angel yelled out, letting the AK-47 rip.
Ra Ra and Little D came around just in time to ambush the Spanish niggas, chopping down Angel and Flaco and dropping them as slugs filled their backs.
I was coming out of the house fast, ready to roll out and make sure my homies were good. I came up and saw that Angel was still alive, but he was barely breathing and trying to speak when he saw my face.
“Oye, Tommy! Que pasa, bro? I thought we was cool!”
Right then I knew this little nigga didn’t have anything to do with it. But he wasn’t about to let my team just kill his brother and be good with it, so he had to go too.
“Your brother and his homies in the black Maxima robbed me and tried to kill me earlier.”
Angel heard this and knew who the men were. But he couldn’t do anything about it, because his brother was on some sneaky shit that cost his team their lives.
“Lo siento, bro. That fool fucked up a good thing!” Angel said, knowing the end was now here for him.
I didn’t kill him personally, giving him that much respect. I walked away, and Little D finished him off.
“Yo, get the keys off of that nigga right there. He won’t be needing that BMW,” I said.
They got Rico’s keys to his BMW 760Li as Ra Ra and D jumped into the BMW.
“This is a crazy-ass whip right here, Ra Ra,” Little D said while admiring the custom features and details.
We took off feeling better about getting the work back, but bad about having to kill Flaco and Angel, because they were real. We headed back down South before stopping in Fredericksburg, Virginia, to get some rest for the night.
CHAPTER 15
IT WAS 11:03 THE next morning and time to check out. Me and the little homies were ready to head back down South with these forty-eight bricks. We were short two because these niggas probably sold them or got high, but there wasn’t any telling.
As we came out of the rooms, I noticed two Fredericksburg police cars parked side by side by my whip. I didn’t know if they were on a donut break or scoping my shit out.
“Yo, to be safe I’ll drive the truck, my nigga,” Geez said.
Fat Money followed Geez as I rolled with Ra Ra and Little D in the 760Li BMW.
The crazy shit is that as we started walking away to the cars, the cops got out of their vehicles with pictures in hand. They then looked at Geez and tried to make a comparison of the image in the photo.
“Excuse me, sir, is this your truck?” the officer asked, still looking back at the picture again as if I and the little homie looked alike.
“Yeah, this is my whip. Why you asking?”
“You don’t ask the questions, we do!” the officer snapped, now standing alongside the truck about three to four feet away.
Geez knew the AR-15 was in the back seat, so he had to tone it down not to draw attention to himself.
Ra Ra started the BMW as we all were concealed behind the tinted windows.
“What questions are you asking, because I have places to be and people to see.”
The officer took another look at the paper before walking to the back of the truck to check the license plate. At the same time, he grabbed his radio, so he could run the tag.
“Ra Ra, drive up behind these fools, so I can make sure the homies are good,” I said, upon seeing this idiot walking to the back of the truck.
I was sitting in the passenger side, so it gave me a good view of what was going on as well as access to these stupid assholes.
Ra Ra stopped the car right behind the officer, which made him halt what he started to do. He still had the radio in his hand. I hit the switch that made the dark tinted windows roll down to expose my face to the officer looking in my direction. His heart jumped when he saw the vivid comparison of the picture he was holding in his other hand.
“Looking for me, muthafucka?”
Before he could respond or alert his partner, I did what I had to do. I squeezed off a round into the center of his forehead and ejected his brains out the other side as the brute force of the slug threw his body up against the truck, leaving his lifeless body to slide down the back of the truck. The other officer reacted and reached for his sidearm, but Geez swung two hard punches back-to-back, knocking the cop out cold. His whole body went stiff from the powerful punches that crashed into his chin.
“Night, night, nigga!” Geez said while looking down at the cop.
“You, Geez, and Money go grab the coke and the rest of the bullets. We gotta get the fuck outta here before that nigga wakes up,” I said. “Ra Ra, hit the trunk so they can put that shit in there.”
As soon as they got into the whip, Ra Ra mashed the gas and raced off with ease as the powerful V-12 engine pushed us down the highway while we were making our escape.
~ ~ ~
The front desk clerk inside the hotel heard a gunshot, so she walked outside and found the two downed officers. One was dead, and one was out cold. Not knowing who had done this, she called it in, fearing the worst for herself and the guests.
Five police units showed up within a minute; some even faster since they were in the area. Immediately, they all took notice of the blue Range Rover Sport and connected the dots between the dead officer and the downed officer. Once the other officer came to, he updated them on what had taken place and how everything happened faster than he could react. The lead officer knew right then that he needed to contact the FBI since their wanted man had killed one of their own.
“Agent Smith speaking.”
“Mr. Smith, this is Officer Roberts down here in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Sir, we found the truck that you guys have in the picture. It has the Atlanta tags. And let me tell you, that son of a bitch killed one of my men. I tell ya, if he’s still around here, he’s not going to make it out of Virginia alive,” Officer Roberts said, feeling the pain of the loss of his officer.
“Officer Roberts, there will be agents on the scene after I hang up. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
“I reckon I’ll see ya then.”
After the call, he and the remaining officers secured the area with yellow tape.
~ ~ ~
Back on the highway, the BMW 76
0Li was coasting down I-695 and assisting in our getaway.
“Geez, you knocked that muthafucka out! I bet he didn’t see that shit happening!” Little D said all hyped up.
“I didn’t know what else to do. Y’all couldn’t shoot him because he was standing too close to me and I didn’t have a gun. So, I did what fear told me to do—knock that nigga out!” Geez said laughing.
As they talked about what had taken place, I closed my eyes and lay my head back on the rest, thinking about all that had taken place over the last few days. Shit truly had been crazy in my life and around it. I was now actually feeling the pressure from these Fed niggas as if the end was coming. The crazy thing was, at this pace, it felt like I wouldn’t even be able to stop that shit from happening.
CHAPTER 16
WE WERE BACK IN Atlanta two days later. At 5:00 a.m. Ra Ra and Fat Money were still sleeping in the living room at Candy’s house. They both had passed out the night before after drinking and playing PS3. They were still on point, however, since they fell asleep with their weapons at their side, especially after them niggas tried to creep Ra Ra for his money.
~ ~ ~
Outside of the house, federal agents were closing in with hopes of taking Tommy Guns down. They had traced the Range Rover’s tags back to Candy’s house since it was in her name.
A still silence fell as the agents synced up to breach the house. They woke up Fat Money and Ra Ra with a flash-bang grenade that came through the window and shattered the glass. This was followed by the loud boom and bright light that briefly disoriented them, giving the agents enough time to kick in the front and back doors. In that instance of being abruptly awakened, both men zeroed in. They took hold of their weapons and quickly fired off at any moving target, not even allowing the agents to announce themselves. Because at this point, the flash bang and doors being kicked in were more than enough announcement. The AR-15 slugs were unforgiving, killing the first agent through the door. Body and head shots pierced the vest, not that it mattered with the head shot.
All Eyes on Gunz 2 Page 6