Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

by Ashley Snell

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Free’s back was against the wall next to the front door, and he had the loaded black .45 pointed directly at the pizza boy’s head. “Stay calm,” Free whispered to the boy, coaching him through the process. The boy tried to swallow, but it seemed like he had an apple in his throat and sweat began to drip down his face as he didn’t know what to expect.

  Seconds later, an agent came to the door with a gun in hand, but when he saw the pizza boy, he put his gun in his waist and asked, “How much I owe you?”

  Before the pizza boy could answer, Free emerged and placed his gun on the temple of the agent.

  “Get out of here, li’l man,” Free whispered as he turned his head in the direction of the car. Without hesitation, the boy dropped the pizza boxes and took off, scared shitless. Free then pulled the agent out of the house and put his lips on the agent’s ear, so that he could hear him clearly.

  “I’ma ask you this one time and one time only. If you lie, I’ma blow yo’ top off. How many people are in there?”

  “Look, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, son,” the agent suggested as he had both of his hands up in the air. Free didn’t have time to play with the agent, so he struck him in the head with the butt of the gun, causing him to fall to the ground. Then he reached in to the agent’s holster and grabbed his gun. Free tossed his gun to Lou and once again put his gun to the agent’s head.

  “You got one more time, homeboy,” Free said as he clenched his jaws and pressed the barrel to the man’s head.

  As blood leaked from the agent’s mouth, he mumbled, “Four of us are in there. Plus the witness is in the back,” he admitted as he realized that Britain had sent someone for Jermaine.

  Free grabbed him by the collar and picked him up. Then he stood behind him and placed the gun to the back of his head as he directed him into the house. When Free entered the house, the smell of cigar smoke invaded his nostrils and he noticed that the agents were sitting at a poker table with cards in their hands. They didn’t even notice Free approaching with their buddy in his grasp.

  Without even looking, one of the agents said jokingly, “Johnson, what took you so long? You give the pizza man a blow job,” he asked, and everyone burst into laughter. But all the laughing stopped when they looked at Johnson and noticed that he had his hands up with an armed masked man behind him.

  One of the agents tried to reach for his gun that was on the table, but Free quickly pointed his gun at him and said, “Slow ya row,” causing him to put both of his hands up. Free quickly grabbed the gun off the table and placed it in his waist, just before putting the gun back on the man.

  “Fuck!” one of the agents yelled as he threw his cards down. He knew that they had just been caught slipping. Their holsters and guns were on the other side of the room, and he knew that they were screwed.

  “Everybody, hands up,” Free directed as he saw someone dart through the hallway and out the back door. Free smiled, knowing that it was Jermaine. Only seconds later, Lou was bringing Jermaine back in the house from the rear. Free had already anticipated that he would do that, so he had Lou waiting at the back door for him.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Free said as he smiled inside his mask. He kicked the agent down to his knees and went into his hoodie and pulled out zip-ties and tied his hands behind his back. He grabbed each agent and made them follow suit. Then he put duct tape around their mouths. He lined all of them up on their knees and tied all of them securely. That’s when he focused his attention on Jermaine while Lou had him at gunpoint.

  Jermaine was shaking nervously, knowing that his life was about to end. He figured he had nothing to lose so he swung around and knocked Lou’s gun on the ground. They began to tussle and Free couldn’t get a good aim on Jermaine to shoot him as they wrestled each other.

  In the midst of all the commotion, Jermaine ripped Lou’s ski mask off and exposed his face. Free ran over to them as they fell onto the ground and then Free struck Jermaine in the back of his head, causing him to become temporarily dizzy. This gave Lou enough time to regain his composure.

  “You can’t handle this li’l nigga?” Free yelled as he watched Jermaine on the floor holding the back of his bleeding head. Free couldn’t believe how Lou let Jermaine get the best of him, especially knowing that Lou had him beat by at least 100 pounds plus.

  “Fuck!’ Lou yelled as he searched for his ski mask on the ground. Once he found it, he put it back on his head, but at that point, it was too late because the agents had seen his face. Lou gave Jermaine a hard kick to the face, landing him flat on his back. Free was tired of playing and without hesitation gave Jermaine two slugs to the chest. He stared down at Jermaine and watched as blood leaked from his mouth and his body began to shake. Jermaine was fighting for his life as his body twitched, and he began to choke on his own blood. Free, wanting to put Jermaine out of his misery, gave him another bullet. Only that time, Jermaine stopped moving altogether. The bullet to the head rocked him to sleep forever.

  Free looked at Big Lou and shook his head in disappointment. Lou dropped his head, knowing that he was slipping and not on his A-game that night. Free could hear the whimpering of one agent as tears formed in his eyes. It always amazed Free how a man who seemed so tough could bitch up in the face of death.

  Free walked behind the agents and without hesitation shot each of them with a slug to the back of their domes. He had no choice; he had to turn what was supposed to be a homicide into a ruthless massacre. Lou had exposed his face, and he had to do what he had to do. The bodies dropped like dominoes as Free went down the line hitting each one of them with a bullet that wasn’t meant for them.

  “Let’s roll,” Free instructed as he stepped over the corpses and headed for the door. He had just fulfilled the contract on the snitch’s head, and he could already feel the money in his palms.

  “I can’t believe this shit,” Britain whispered under his breath as he and one of his goons watched CNN while sitting on his sectional.

  “Four federal agents and the star witness in the Britain ‘Brick’ Adams case were found murdered execution-style in a home in Oak Park. Authorities are saying that this was a contract kill and Adams is suspected to be behind this heinous act. More details are soon to come as we cover this story that is turning out to be just like a scene out of The Sopranos.”

  Britain turned off the television, not wanting to hear any more of the fiasco that was unraveling.

  Veins poked from his neck as he clenched his jaws, displaying his rage. His BlackBerry had been ringing off the hook because of the recent events. He knew that nine times out of ten his phone was being tapped, so he never picked up. His teams of lawyers were working overtime trying to figure out the next step. However, the district attorney was irate now that his star witness was dead. Jermaine was the only thing that tied Britain to the drug-trafficking charges. Things were looking very bad for Britain, and he knew that he had to go and see Jones to find out what went wrong.

  “Damn!” he yelled as he threw his remote at the TV, cracking the screen of his five-thousand-dollar plasma TV. Britain got up and grabbed his coat. He was going straight to Jones and see what was going on.

  “Yo’, meet me in the garage,” Britain said as he instructed his goon to go to the garage through the house. He was going to go in the car garage from the outside, so that he could do a magic trick for the feds who were watching him. Just as he was stepping out, he saw two men in trench coats and suits approaching his door. By the way they looked, Britain knew they were cops. There was something about being a cop that was evident, and Britain knew all the signs.

  “I was just on my way out, fellas,” Britain said calmly as he stopped in his tracks and slid his hands in his pockets.

  “Fuck you, you son of a bitch,” one of the agents said as his face became as red as a fresh apple. “Johnson was a father and a good guy. I’m going to put you in a cage for the rest of your life,” the agent promised as h
e lunged at Britain while his partner held him back. Britain didn’t even budge. He just looked at the man like it was a joke. However, inside, Britain was steaming mad. He never knew Jones to be so sloppy, and he regretted even giving him the contract.

  “Well, if this li’l charade is over… I have somewhere to be,” Britain said as he walked past the men.

  “Hey, we need to talk to you,” the cop said as he pointed his finger at Britain.

  “You can talk to my lawyer. Now, if you don’t have a warrant, you might want to get off my mu’fuckin’ property before I get upset,” Britain said as he displayed a small smile, but it quickly turned into a scowl to let them know he was dead serious.

  The agents brushed past Britain and got into their car. Britain watched as they pulled off. He waited until they were out of sight and then headed over to Jones’s house to talk to the man who just threw salt in the game. Once the cops were out of eyesight, Britain went to his garage that was attached to his house. He stepped in and pressed the button so he could let the door down. He had six cars in the spacious garage and decided to get into his Cadillac truck. He then watched as his goon got into the tinted Benz.

  “Just circle around the block for a minute. Keep ’em busy,” Britain instructed as he started up his truck and rolled up the windows, which were also tinted. He pushed the garage-door opener to let the door up.

  His goon pulled out and just as Britain suspected, a black unmarked police car was camped out a couple of houses down and began to follow the goon. Britain waited until the coast was clear and pulled out, heading to Jones.

  Britain sat across from Jones shaking his head in disbelief. Jones was just as shocked as Britain when he saw the news on CNN.

  “How dumb can a nigga be?” Jones asked as an unlit joint hung from the right side of his mouth.

  Britain got up and began to pace the room while in deep contemplation.

  “Well, at least they did hit the snitch,” Jones said as he lit the joint, trying to make light of the situation. He sat back in his La-Z-Boy and began to think about the commission that Free had just blown for him. He knew Britain was not going to pay for a botched hit. Jones fully understood. However, Free might not take the news so easily.

  “Yeah, but what good does that do? I’m going to have the feds gunning for me. Four of their own were murdered execution-style with a witness that was set to take the stand against me!”

  “Listen, youngblood. I take full responsibility for this mishap. My man fucked up the job,” Jones stated.

  “It’s cool. This just fucks everything up though,” Britain said as he calmed down. Jones was a man who he always looked up to, and he had to remember that he was talking to an OG.

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Jones put out his joint and went to answer the door. It was Free. Jones stepped to the side to let him in, and Free had a smile on his face, thinking he was coming to collect.

  “What’s going on, Jones?” Free asked as he stepped in. He looked at Britain and nodded, but Britain didn’t acknowledge him back. Free smirked and shook his head as he walked past Britain.

  “So what’s up?” Free asked as he sat down. He was ready to collect and go to see Claude to pay some of his debt off. Free watched as Britain began to slowly pace the room with his hands in his pocket, noticeably angry.

  “We got a problem, Free. Why did you take out the agents? That fucked it up for everybody,” Jones said as he sat back down in his chair and looked across at Free.

  “I had to. They saw my man’s face,” Free said as he put his hands out.

  “Damn. You didn’t have to kill them, though,” Jones responded.

  “Of course, I did. Think about it,” Free said, trying to get Jones to see things his way. Jones was a hit man and knew the rules of the game, which was “no witness, no murder.”

  “Jones, the contract is all fucked up. I’m not paying,” Britain said as he looked at Jones. Jones nodded in agreement, knowing that his reasoning was fair.

  “What? You ain’t paying? You got me fucked up,” Free said as he sat up and looked at Britain like he was crazy. “Yo’, man tripping,” he said as he looked at Jones.

  “You better calm down, li’l nigga,” Britain said as he raised his shirt, exposing his nickel-plated .45-caliber pistol.

  “Look, everybody, relax,” Jones said as he stood up, trying to keep the peace. Free had heard enough. He was furious. He couldn’t believe that he wasn’t getting paid for his services, but he had another plan in mind. He was going to make Britain pay one way or another.

  “It’s cool. Later, Jones,” Free said as he stormed out, putting a plot together in his head. He was back at square one.

  Chapter Six

  Six heard the front door slam, so she walked into the living room where she found Free and Big Lou. She could immediately sense that something was wrong. The thick tension that filled the air could be cut with a knife, and Free’s agitation was written all over his face. His temple throbbed from emotion as he grit his teeth in anger.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked as she approached Free with open arms. He kissed her cheek as she stroked his face. Stress lines creased his forehead, but he didn’t respond…choosing to ignore her question. She looked from Free to Big Lou in search of answers. “Free? What’s up? Where’s the money?”

  Six was sure that Free would come back with a duffel bag full of big faces, but as she looked at his empty hands, she was confused.

  “There is no money,” Free stated as he sat down on the couch. “That bitch-ass nigga Britain pulled grimy.”

  “Why would he do that? That nigga is sitting on money…. Why would he not pay you after you put in work for him?” Six asked.

  “Things didn’t go as planned, but the nigga got me fucked up if he think he gon’ chump me out of that paper. The mu’fucka wasn’t even on my radar before this, but he’s going to pay me what he owes me…one way or another.”

  “What you got in mind?” Big Lou asked.

  “I’ma take it out his ass,” Free stated harshly…irrationally, letting his anger hype him up.

  “I’m with it, but the nigga ain’t easy to touch. If we gone come at him, we need to come correct, because he stay strapped, and he got eyes on him at all times,” Big Lou said.

  “So you’re saying the nigga untouchable?” Free asked.

  “No, I’m saying the nigga ain’t your average mark. If we rob him, we better be ready to kill him, because he’s not taking L’s in stride. Don’t let that suit-wearing shit fool you. The nigga is ruthless and got an army of goons standing behind him,” Big Lou said.

  “So we kidnap his bitch and tie up his kid until the nigga cough up that cake,” Free stated mercilessly. He didn’t care how he got paid as long as he did. Free was a stand-up man with those who were loyal and played fairly with him, but Britain had disrespected him so he fully intended on settling the score.

  “Nah, it’s not that easy, fam. The nigga don’t keep no steady bitches around. I’m all for getting at the nigga, but we got to approach this situation carefully. I don’t know about you, but a nigga value the air in his lungs, nah mean?” Big Lou asked. He wanted to make sure Free fully understood the risk that they were about to take by targeting a man of Britain’s stature.

  Six sat on the couch with her knees pulled into her chest as she watched the exchange between Free and Big Lou. Free had been locked up for a long time, and he didn’t know the magnitude of Britain’s reign over the streets. He was larger than life, and Six silently feared for Free’s well-being. Robbing Britain was dangerous, but Six knew that Free’s pride would never allow him to back down.

  “You’re fam, Lou, and I would never drag you into something that I felt like I couldn’t handle, so I’m going to be straight up with you. Right now, I don’t have anything to lose. I either come at Britain to get this money, or the Russians coming at me. I’m in a lose-lose, my nigga. I don’t have a choice, but I understand if you don’t want t
o be involved,” Free stated.

  “I’m not feeding you to the sharks, fam. I’m in it with you until the caskets drop in the dirt, but if we can avoid that route, let’s be smart. Let’s come up with a plan to get at this nigga so that he won’t see it coming. Let’s not give him time to react,” Big Lou replied.

  “Put Sparkle on him,” Six spoke up.

  Free looked at her skeptically and shook his head, but Six was persistent. “I’ve seen her work a nigga until his pockets were on e. Free, she can do this, and it’s the safest way for everyone involved. Nobody has to get hurt. Let it be about the money. We take the cash, pay the Russians, and leave the city.”

  “A’ight, fuck it…. We’ll put your girl on him,” Free stated.

  “He owns a restaurant in Southfield. He has breakfast there every Sunday with his people,” Big Lou said.

  “You and Sparkle will be there too then,” Free said to Six. “Call her and put her up on game. We don’t have time to waste.”

  Six and Sparkle walked into the restaurant looking as if they had stepped right off the pages of a magazine. They were both dressed to impress, and as they waited to be seated, they grabbed the attention of many of the patrons. Free had gone to the restaurant a half hour earlier. He was sipping coffee in a discreet corner of the room. He wanted to see how everything played out, and he grinned as he watched Six and Sparkle captivate the room.

  Sparkle smiled, and as they were escorted to their table, they walked past Britain and his entourage. Both of the ladies put on a show, allowing the natural sway of their hips to hypnotize anyone who might be looking. Smiling, they took a seat and opened their menus. Sparkle kicked Six underneath the table and leaned in to whisper, “I’ma hook this nigga so quick he won’t know what hit him,” she bragged.

  Six shook her head and rolled her eyes playfully. “I heard that, bitch…. Well, get to work,” she said with laughter in her voice. The ladies ordered their food and not even five minutes into their meal the waiter came over.