Voorheeze & Clarkola

by De'Kari

  First chance she got, Nina told her sister about the nigga and together they watched him all night. When T’Rida and Monique got ready to leave, T’Rida assured his family that he didn’t need any security. Niggaz didn’t feel that shit but respected it. He and Monique left and so did the nigga! The twins were right on his ass. No matter how hard they searched their memories, the twins could not place his face.

  The entire time they followed the mothafucka, they debated over what to do. Nina’s plan was to follow whoever the mothafucka was and the first chance they got leave his ass slumped, no questions asked, no regrets! Trina on the other hand was down to put her murder game on without question, but she wanted to follow protocol.

  Their debate was interrupted by a phone call from French Tip who noticed that the t wins were missing. She figured knowing them and their attraction to violence, something was up. The twins put in work together as a unit and they were damn good. So, when they were both missing that usually meant something was up, and somebody was about to die.

  After they put her up on what was popping off, she alerted Gunz who immediately jumped up ready to run right into some shit. After learning from French Tip that it was only one nigga Gunz fell back. He told French Tip to send a back-up unit just in case and to inform the twins to look, but do not touch.

  Nina was pissed off when the order came for them to just stay on the nigga and learn what they could about him, unless he posed a threat. Gunz figured that was the call Voorheeze would have made. “Learn as much about a possible threat as you possibly can and then eliminate it once it served its purpose!” Voorheeze believed you neva move on a threat without fully understanding it because you may move too early and lose out on some important detail. “Fuck around and think you’ve eliminated a threat and all you’ve really done was exposed your hand”, is what he would always say. The twins did as they were instructed, they followed the nigga that night and the next day.

  That fateful day in Milpitas they were parked on the corner of Vienna Drive a few houses down from The War Room. They sat in a rented, charcoal grey, V6 Honda Accord watching the mothafucka that was following T’Rida. He had been still following T’Rida since he left Carsjanaes the night before. He was two houses up in front of the twins. Nina didn’t like just sitting there watching the nigga one bit.

  She lost track of how many times she brought it up to her sister, the idea of just getting on the niggaz helmet. Fuck all this waiting shit, they could knock the nigga down and come up with a reason of why they had to do it, later, that was Nina’s reasoning. Trina hated when her sister got like that, but she was so used to it that she didn’t trip.

  As they sat and watched Wendell talk on his cell phone all hell broke loose! What the twins didn’t know was all this time Wendell had been on the phone with the Milpitas Police Department. He'd called in an anonymous tip about two men dragging little girls out of a van tied up and blind folded into a house.

  Trina’s heart skipped about three beats. She had neva seen so many police cars come flying around the corner at one time. She didn’t know what was going on, but she didn’t like it! Nina cocked both of her pistols getting ready for the show down. She would be damned if she didn’t take a bunch of them bitches with her.

  Thinking quickly, Trina picked up her phone and called French Tip. After hearing what Trina was telling her and analyzing the situation French Tip told the twins to stand down. She figured it was just a raid. If T’Rida got locked up they could easily bail him out. Wasn’t no sense in the twins getting snatched up too.

  Nina told her sister that she knew the nigga in the car was responsible for calling the police, she could feel it in her gut. The proof came when he got out of his Cadillac and started talking to the cops pointing and gesturing with his hands.

  Nina was squeezing the handles of her pistols so hard her knuckles were turning white and hurting. She hated snitches! All she could think of was she should have killed the fuckin maggot last night. Now because she didn’t, she would have to watch T’Rida go to jail. At least that’s what she thought.

  “BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA!

  Somebody inside of the house opened fire on the cops. Before the twins had a chance to make sense out of what was playing out. Shit got real as fuck.

  During the commotion of the shoot out the twins lost track of Wendell, but it didn’t matter because they knew where he lived and planned on making shit right! He neva returned home, Nina had sat on his house 24/7 waiting. Finally, the day of the funeral, they spotted him. He was sitting in the same Cadillac in the parking lot eyeing the funeral. Determined not to let his punk ass get away, Nina dipped off and retrieved a can of florescent, invisible, glow in the dark paint from her car and tagged both sides of his bumper.

  Now they were following him and ready to fill him with some hot shit.

  Wendell drove at a nice respectable distance away from Voorheeze. His mind was all over the place. The inside of the car smelled of sweat, ass and crack. The crack that he continued to saturate his system with only added to the problem. As he thought about his losses, tears continued to slide down his face.

  Wendell didn’t know how things had gotten so out of hand. He had put his cousin Melvin up on a nice little lick. All the mothafucka had to do was keep his fucking mouth shut. Instead of doing that, the stupid mothafucka ran his mouth, ninety going north! Now everybody that he loved was dead.

  Melvin’s dumb ass brought it on himself for running his mouth and choosing the wrong tramp to make his woman. But Jack, Dollar and Lynch didn’t have to die because of Melvin’s mistake, especially Lynch.

  Wendell’s heart dropped at the thought of Lynch. Wendell had been in the closet for the last five years. He wished he could go back in time just to be able to tell Lynch that he loved him. Hell, right now he didn’t care who knew. Wendell wouldn’t be in the closet any more. He would rather deal with the embarrassment of people knowing than to be without the love of his life. If only he could bring Lynch back. The two of them had been sneaking around behind Dollar’s back for a year and a half and Wendell had fallen in love with him.

  He thought about the day he made it to his mother’s house and watched the fire department fight the flames. Wendell’s problems began with T’Rida, but Voorheeze took things to another level when he and his bitch ass boy killed Wendell’s mom and sister!

  Wendell picked up his pipe and took another hit off it. He didn’t even feel the enjoyment of getting high any longer. He continued to smoke, chasing the high. Placing the pipe inside of his cup holder, Wendell picked up the old 9 mm Beretta and held it in his lap.

  “Yeah lil bitch! Let’s see how tough you are when I hit you with some hot shit. Mothafuckas can pick on little o’le ladies well just wait until I start choppin at you.” Wendell was yelling out as he was following the car Voorheeze was driving. White foam flew from his mouth.

  Tonight, would be the night he would finally get his revenge for what was done to his mother and sister. Pink’s body had laid in the trunk of her car for three weeks. The smell of her rotten corpse finally prompted someone to investigate, was the only reason she was found. Fuck that! All these mothafuckas were going to pay for what was done to his people.

  Voorheeze was making it as easy as pie as he rolled around getting drunk as hell. Wendell decided he would kill him the next time he pulled over. Although Wendell didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell going up against Voorheeze. The crack cocaine told him a different story.

  **** N. D. ****

  Officer Peters didn’t know exactly what he'd stumbled across when he spotted the three cars, but he knew something was up. As far as the officer could tell one car was following another car which was being followed by another one! He was following them all. His instincts told him to radio in for some kind of backup, but Peters didn’t listen to reason. He neva did. Peters believed you had to take the risk to catch the Big Fish. Besides, what would he say? He had three cars following each other? Peters didn’t wa
nt to get his ass chewed out or get humiliated. He’d been through the ringer way too many times to count. His “Lone Ranger” antics kept him in trouble, but he believed one day they would put him ahead of the game. He had big dreams, so he knew that he had to take big risks. What was the saying of the young black guys? “Scared money don’t make money!”

  As he was thinking this, Peters watched the lead car pull into the parking lot of Garden Supermarket. Only one man in the Bay Area drove a Lamborghini Vereno and that was Voorheeze. Whatever was going on, Peters was ready. He knew who drove that car. He pulled into the lot and parked off to the side of the building out of sight, a few seconds after the Cadillac pulled in.

  The Cadillac pulled in the lot from the opposite end. The Camaro that was following the Cadillac, pulled in behind him. The driver of the Cadillac was so preoccupied with something. He neva saw the Camaro pull in and kill its engine. Officer Peters decided not to pull into the crowded parking lot, instead he pulled up to the curb and watched.

  Wendell parked the Cadillac and grabbed his pipe. He took one last hit off of it and was ready. Voorheeze was about to die. He exited the Cadillac, gun in his hand and crept towards the Lamborghini with only one thing in mind: Killing Jason Voorheeze.

  When he reached the Lamborghini Wendell crouched down by the driver’s side and waited. The passenger side of the car faced the entrance of the store.

  “Oh, hell naw! Trina he bout to try to ambush Big Brah when he comes out of the store!” Nina said as she was double checking her pistols, making sure they were cocked and loaded. “It’s time to lay my murda game down, fuck talking!”

  “Fuck protocol let’s go”, was all Trina said when she opened the door and slid out of the car feeling the same way her sister did!

  At six-foot-two, two-hundred and fifteen pounds, Trina was an Amazon, but she had all the agility of an Olympic gymnast.

  The twins were nineteen years old, both beautiful and lethal. Every man that laid eyes on them wanted to get with them. Unless someone had the ability to tame a wild animal, they wouldn’t dare approach them. They were that feisty.

  As they reached their target, the sisters split up. Trina came from the passenger side. She didn’t have to look up, she already knew where her sister was. She could sense it, they moved in sync like that. As she rounded the front of the Lambo Trina could see Wendell stooping down waiting. He was a bald, fat, brown skinned nigga. He resembled Carl Winslow from Family Matters.

  He was sweating profusely from the crack cocaine and from fear, he wasn’t a killer. When he saw Trina, his eyes lit up. He’d neva in his life seen something so beautiful. Just as he opened his mouth to speak Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Nina had walked directly up to him from behind while he was distracted staring at her sister. When she was a foot away from him she shot him twice in the back of the head. When Wendell’s body fell to the ground, she shot him twice more.

  Nina didn’t come here to talk or play games. When she lifted her head to look at her sister, her heart froze. Some mothafucka was pointing a gun at the back of her sister’s head. Trina saw the look in her sister’s face and instantly knew something was wrong. She spun around bringing her arm and gun up, ready to fire. “Freeze!”

  Peters couldn’t believe what had happened, it had all happened so quick. When he saw the crackhead get out of the car with the gun and hide by the Lambo he got ready to call it in. He had to use his phone because he was in his personal vehicle. Just as he was dialing, two fine ass sistah’s climbed out of the Camaro with guns in their hands. The way they carried their guns, the way they moved, his experience told Peters that they weren’t about to do any talking. These two were the real deal.

  Forgetting about backup, Peters got out of his car and drew his weapon. He saw the smaller female walk right up to the crackhead and blow his head off like it was nothing. She was colder than the freezing black night. The look that he saw in her eyes as she pointed the 9mm at him had him ready to piss his pants.

  “Stop pointing that fucking gun at my sister!” The venom that flew off Nina’s lips was more poisonous than any snake.

  “M-mam I need you to drop your weapon and put your hands up”, Peters couldn’t conceal his fear or hide his shaky hands. There was just something about the woman in front of him. “Nina, shoot this mothafucka! Whatcha waiting on?” Trina was livid as she stared down the barrel of his service weapon without flinching.

  “Drop your weapon and put your hands up!” The cop repeated. This time with a little authority.

  To Trina’s horror and shock her sister hesitated and lowered her gun. Trina knew her sister loved her hands down. But she would’ve neva guessed that love would cause her to bitch up one day.

  “Nina what the F…” was all she got out of her mouth…..

  CHAPTER IV

  (Meanwhile)

  You don’t get a name like Jason Voorheeze by being soft or by being a dumb nigga. Voorheeze is a name that LaMont worked hard to receive an even harder to live up to, just ask anybody that did time with him.

  Especially in DVI, that’s where he really honed his skills and terrorized niggaz.

  Even though he was fucked up over T’Ridas death Voorheeze stayed on point, especially when it came to safety and security. Somebody should’ve told the mothafucka in the Cadillac that was following him that shit! Voorheeze saw the nigga a long time ago. He purposely kept riding around going from place to place waiting for the sun to go down. It was still day time when he left his brother and sister. When he felt it was dark enough, he headed towards a liquor store that was ducked off in the cut, so he could see what was up.

  Making sure that both Dragoons were in place he got out of the Lambo and walked into the store. He was wondering about the second set of headlights that he kept seeing while he was watching the Cadillac, but he couldn’t worry too much about that, he had to focus on one thing at a time. Voorheeze knew one thing, Anybody Could Get It!

  The clerk in the store was a young brotha who looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world, than at the store and at work that night.

  Grabbing a stack of bills out of his pocket, Voorheeze placed them on the counter. “Brah this ain’t a joke and you ain’t got all day to make your decision. That’s about $5000 right there, it’s yours if you give me the videotape that’s recording on the store cameras and don’t put another one in.”

  The little nigga working behind the register knew something was about to pop off, he wasn’t stupid. He was only making $8.50 an hour to work at the store. A stack of hundred-dollar bills made his mind up for him fast. “Aint no tape, shit on a DVD but just taking the disc ain’t no good you gotta take the whole DVR or else they can just reprint the disc.” He honestly told Voorheeze.

  Shit, the little nigga was from the hood too. He was working at the store cause his mom got sick. He was paying the bills. He wasn’t about to take the money and not keep it real.

  Voorheeze liked the little nigga’s get down and respected the little game he just kicked to him. “I tell you what take that and head to the back”, he told him as he pointed at the stack of money. “Disconnect everything and when I’m done I’ll come tighten you up. Oh yeah you might wanna stay low rogue.” Both Dragoons came out of their resting place, ready to breathe fire.

  The clerk took one look at the two cannons and got Lil like Wayne. As soon as he got to the back he started counting the money.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Voorheeze crouched down low instinctively when he heard the shots. He wondered what was going on. Instantly, he thought of the second set of headlights. Just when he was about to check it out he saw a figure run right by the front of the store. What the fuck is going on, he wondered again. Though he killed two full bottles of Remy he was sober now. That little buzz was gone the moment he sensed a threat, now his mind was racing to access what was going on.

  “Freeze!” When he heard those words he thought to himself, that must have been a cop that just ran by, but who the fu
ck was the shooter?

  “Stop pointing that fuckin gun at my sister?” Voorheeze couldn’t believe his ears! It was one of the twins. It sounded like the little feisty one they called Nina.

  “M-mam I need you to drop your weapon and put your hands up!” Voorheeze rose up the moment he heard the twin’s voice. He was out the door by the time the cop finished talking. Fuck hiding, she was one of his family.

  “Nina shoot this mothafucka! Whatcha waiting on?” Trina was livid! You could hear it in her voice.

  The cop had his back towards Voorheeze. His attention was so focused on Nina, he neva sensed anything wrong. He was pointing his gun at Trina’s head. Her back was towards Voorheeze as well. The only person facing him was Nina. She gave no sign that she saw him.

  “Drop your weapon and put your hands up!” First Nina lowered her pistol and then she bent over and placed the gun on the ground. She stood up with her arms in the air. When she did this, the cop took his gun off Trina and then pointed it at Nina.

  “Nina what the F…”

  BOOM!

  The sound of the loud Dragoon filled the night. Voorheeze blew Peters mothafuck’n head off the moment the gun wasn’t pointed at Trina. His entire face was gone. Trina spun around ready to get active, when she saw Voorheeze, she smiled.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Nina walked up to the already dead cop and shot him five more times in the head or what was left of a head. She wished she could bring him back to life, so she could kill him for pointing a gun at her sister!

  “Look we gotta move. Trina find his keys and search his car. Make sure there is no surveillance shit in there, if it is we gone take the car. Nina shoot them cameras out and follow me!” Voorheeze neva wasted time or panicked, this violence shit is what he lived for.