Queen Diamonds

by Noire

  Sly was the first to move.

  “Those camel-walkin bastards!” he said, rushing over to the window to peek out. He saw madness erupting out there. People were running and screaming up and down the dock as blasts went off in the air. Sly watched a fat white woman and both of the Africans get hit and all three fall to the ground. A moment later a swarm of thug niggas rushed over to them and started going through their pockets, ignoring the bullets and obviously looking for something sweet.

  “Time to go!” Sly said, rushing back to the money. His hands were a blur as he scooped the bills up off the table and threw them into the leather bag. Those cats had probably come from one of the projects right across the street, and if them niggas were hip to the Africans then that meant they were coming after him and Honore next. “We gotta haul ass outta here right now!”

  Sly tossed Honore a key and started zipping up the bag of money as he yelled, “Get the Mac outta the closet!”

  Honore darted across the room and reached for the pantry door. She flung that shit open and extracted two pieces of heat.

  “Yeah, this baby right here’ll keep them niggas off our backs!” Sly muttered as Honore handed him the automatic weapon and kept the handgun for herself.

  They were moving toward the door when Sly checked her with a firm hand. “Hold up.” He ran back over to the window and looked outside again. A barrage of shots chased them hood nigs off the Africans, and frantic white people were shrieking and grabbing their kids as shots popped off in the air.

  “Check it,” he told Honore. “Let’s chill for just a second, but when we get out there I want you to head straight for one of the speed boats at the end of the dock,” he ordered. “Don’t bother looking back ’cause I’ll be holding us down,” he said as he passed her the bag of cash. “You just hold tight to the fuckin money and run!”

  Screams from the passengers on the other boats could now be heard in between the volley of shots being fired. It sounded like people were being slaughtered on their own boats. Sly counted to twenty and waited. As soon as there was a pause in the noise he stepped outside and glanced around, ready to bang the entire marina with the thirty-two shot Mac 10 that he gripped tightly in his fists.

  “Oh, shit!” he yelled and jumped back inside, damn near knocking Honore off her feet as a round whizzed by his face.

  “It’s those double-crossing fucking Africans, ain’t it?” Honore shrieked, mad as hell at the thought of being fucked over once again.

  “Nah,” Sly said panting. “Them two camel-riding niggas are out there taking a concrete nap. Them niggas got hit!”

  Sly knew him and Honore were sitting ducks. He counted to twenty again and waited, and then the two of them hit the door and made their way outside. It sounded like the bullets had stopped flying but crazy pandemonium was still ensuing on the dock. Blood was splattered and bodies were down everywhere. Mad people were now rushing toward their cars, others were trying to set sail away from the dock, and some had even jumped into the cold water trying to escape the stray bullets.

  Honore and Sly took advantage of all the running and screaming as they raced toward the end of the marina. Sly was back-pedaling with his weapon locked, cocked, and ready to rock all the way.

  But lots of other people fleeing had beaten them to the edge of the dock. An older white couple had just jumped into the last speedboat and were trying to make a quick escape.

  “Hey muthafuckas!” Sly shouted down at them as he pointed his weapon and aimed heat at the frightened pair. “Put your fuckin hands up!”

  The passengers on the speedboat froze in horror as they stared down the barrel of Sly’s big gun. Him and Honore moved quickly as they ran down the dock and jumped into the boat and started barking demands.

  “In the water!” Sly waved his heat and ordered the man and his terrified wife. “Gun it up, baby!” he shouted to Honore, then he turned back to the white couple and barked as the boat lurched away from the dock, “Out the fuckin boat and in the fuckin water!”

  The white man nodded and grabbed his wife’s hand, then both of them dove over the side of the boat and swam back toward the dock like minnows.

  Honore was speechless as Sly took over and guided the boat out into the open waters of the bay. Why them two Africans were dead as a doorknob and her and Sly were still alive was a fuckin mystery to her.

  “What the hell just happened back there?” she shouted over the noise of the speedboat. “What the hell are we gonna do, Sly?”

  Sly shrugged as he powered the boat forward. “Relax. We’ll find out what happened from Twitter in about five seconds. Every time a bullet pops off it ain’t gotta be about us,” he said.

  Honore was shook. She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him. But her whole life had just flashed before her eyes and she was scared as fuck.

  “You don’t think it was those investors coming at me, do you? You don’t think they got tired of waiting for their sweet money and just came after my ass?”

  Sly McFly shook his head and smoothed back his wavy hair as they got ghost and circled around the waterway under the cover of night.

  “Uh-uh. Hell nah. Them hebe niggas don’t miss nothing they aim at. If it was them they woulda laid the whole dock down to get at you. They ain’t leaving no money on the table. Trust me, not a dime. If it was them, then that lil bit of cash we got from them Africans and your beautiful black ass woulda both been gone, baby. Long gone.”

  $$$$$

  Floating out there on the cool waters Pier 59, Honore and Sly were thankful to be alive. But back on dry land there were four armed thugs whose hearts were filled with disappointment.

  “Yo, it was a massacre out there!” Tragedy barked into his cell phone as him and his cousins sped away from the Boatel in a souped-up Chevy hatchback. “There was some wild shit poppin off right on the dock, yo! We found Honore’s Boatel and was about to blitz, but we didn’t even get to run down on that bitch because some maniac fuckin white boy was out there shootin shit up!”

  “Shooting shit up?” the woman on the other end echoed.

  “Yeah! Somebody said the white dude used to work out there but he got fired. That nigga came back packin a choppa and started clearing his boss and a whole bunch of other muthafuckas clean out!”

  “So y’all ain’t get the fifty grand?” the female voice on the other end of the phone asked coldly. “You telling me y’all niggas left up outta there empty-handed? I gave you all the info you needed, stupid ass! How did y’all fuck it up?”

  “Yo, I’ono,” he muttered. “It was bullets flying and mad white people out there runnin and shit--”

  “I don’t care what color them assholes was out there! That bitch Honore shitted all over your sister, nigga! You was supposed to do it for India! I told you Honore and Sly was going out there to conduct a cash transaction with some Africans! Man, both of them be wearing jewels and carrying around boo-coo cash! Especially that old yellow nigga Sly! You was supposed to rob both of them bitches and get paid!”

  “Yo! I did what the fuck I could do!” Tragedy spit viciously. “But I’m telling you it was some Wild Wild West shit going on out there! Before we could even pop shit off the place was going bananas. We caught up with the two African cats coming outta her joint though. We banged on both of them bitches and took some real pretty diamonds off they asses. But then the psycho white boy rolled up airing shit out and we had to breeze like asap.”

  “So she really sold the diamonds, huh?” the female on the other end spoke with quiet disappointment. “That dirty bitch really, really, really sold my damn diamonds!”

  “I guess so. All I know is one of them Africans we deaded had ’em in his pocket.”

  That was it for Cucci Momma! That was the last fuckin straw!

  “Yo,” Tragedy said, “we ’bout to run them diamonds to the pawn shop right

  quick and see what kinda yardage we can get.”

  “No!” Cucci snapped sharply. “No pawn shops, stupid
! I hustled my ass off for those bad boys! You bring those diamonds back to me and I’ll dish ’em off my damn self. And the next time I give you a big-money lead you better not fuck it up!”

  Perched on her sofa, Cucci Momma clicked off the phone then snatched up her glass of Bacardi and took a big swallow. That sneaky bitch! Honore had sold the diamonds to them Africans clients without telling her! That dirty crab! Cucci was the best damn thief in the whole damn Crushed Ice Clique and them diamonds belonged to both of them! That oily roach didn’t have no intentions on giving up Cucci’s share of the cut either! Nah, she had done her dirt on the low and now she was gonna keep the whole pot to herself.

  Cucci fumed. The only reason that skank-ass heffa was still in the game in the first place was because Cucci had loved and trusted her. She coulda been done turned that snake in and bagged that reward money from the FBI! She had been holding off outta her sense of family loyalty, but now all of that was about to change! Ya damn right! Shit was about to get poppin for real!

  Cucci took a deep breath and tried to relax and think rationally as the liquor hit her stomach with a slow burn. It was her fault that Tragedy had lined Honore up in his crosshairs and then couldn’t deliver. That’s what she got for fucking with amateurs. Tragedy and his niggas were a bunch of low-budget light-weights. It was gonna take some professional action to put Honore in check and get Cucci’s pockets right.

  Cucci was mad, but she wasn’t sad. What goes around, comes around, she told herself. She had failed to get what she wanted this time, but life was all about making the right moves at the right time, and right now she knew exactly what she needed to do to make sure her opportunity came rolling back around again.

  CHAPTER 21

  Droppin Dimes

  At exactly 8:04am on Sunday a call came through on the FBI hotline. The middle-aged agent who took the call had been a bureau employee for two decades and he knew the intricacies of his job inside and out.

  “Hello?” a female voice whispered through the line. “Is this the number where you call in tips so you can collect a reward?”

  “Yes it is,” the agent said in a bored but professional voice as he kicked back in his chair and crossed his feet at the ankles.

  To his trained ear this sounded like another useless dud call. He could tell right away that the voice on the line was young and black, and if he had a dollar for every dumb-ass tip he received from a lying nigger who was bucking for reward money he would have been a very rich man. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Well, I seen a wanted poster saying y’all was looking for the person who stole a real expensive diamond from the New York Diamond and Jewelry Exchange not too long ago.”

  Immediately the agent uncrossed his feet and sat up straight.

  “Yes,” he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small magnet and pressed it against the phone, scrambling the line. “What information can you provide about that crime?”

  “Uh-uh,” the girl said and sucked her teeth. “Ain’t nobody stupid. If I just up and tell you everything I know how am I supposed to get the reward money then?”

  “If your tip pans out then you can apply for the reward money by filling out a form,” the agent replied sincerely. “Don’t worry, before we hang up I’ll take your name and address, and if you like you can come in and speak to an agent and he can help you fill out the form right here in the office.”

  “Well,” the girl whispered, “I just wanna tell you that the person you’re looking for is called the Queen of Diamonds, and I know where y’all can catch her at tonight,” she said. “But y’all gotta show up exactly when I tell you to, you got it?”

  “Got it,” the agent said as he listened to the story the young woman was running down on him. He scribbled some notes on a pad with the location and times the girl specified, and before he hung up he took down the name she gave him, which he knew was fake, and assured her that someone from the Bureau would follow up on her information in less than twenty-four hours.

  After disconnecting the call the agent signaled to his co-worker in the next booth that he needed to take a quick trip to the men’s room. Breaking strict company policy, he failed to log the call that had just come in. Instead, he walked out on the balcony and discreetly placed a call of his own. Because unlike the ten other seasoned agents who manned the nation’s telephone hotlines, this agent didn’t just work for the FBI.

  He also worked for the BBU.

  CHAPTER 22

  Life’s on the Line

  Care for me, care for me. I thought Slick cared for me. There for me, there for me...Slick should be there for me…

  Jewelz was lounging in her posh Manhattan crib and singing along with Lauryn Hill as she dried herself off with a big soft towel. She was fresh outta her morning shower and had just begun smoothing some Estee Lauder Nutritious lotion onto her long athletic legs.

  The smell of coconut incense floated through the air as the in-ceiling speakers blasted the angelic vocals of Lauryn on her Ex-Factor album.

  Today Jewelz was feeling better than she had in a good minute. She was looking forward to dressing up and feeling sexy, which is something she rarely felt like doing these days. There was a lot she wanted to accomplish in the little bit of time she had left in the world, and the icing on the cake was gonna be slumping the beloved family members of the infamous Handgun Goody.

  Despite the fact that she was sick, thinking about this mission had Jewelz feeling invigorated and energized. The monster from her past had scarred her in more ways than he probably even remembered. She felt a gratifying sense of elation at the thought of stalking him like prey and making him feel the same type of pain that her and Slick had felt as kids.

  But killing Goody and his family wasn’t going to be like any of her other missions where she’d killed with coldblooded indifference and zero emotion. Uh-uh. Just thinking about this one had Jewelz salivating like a lioness over what would be the most thrilling meal of her life.

  The plan was to erase every fuckin body that Goody loved before devouring him at the end. She was fantasizing about killing his favorite brother Ice Pick when she heard a loud knock at her door.

  Jewelz grabbed the semi automatic propped against the wall by her bed. She never had unexpected company come over so there was no need for anybody to be at her door. Especially banging on that shit like they were gonna tear it down. She put on her wig, then threw on a sports bra, a t-shirt, and some loose basketball shorts and approached the door with caution.

  “Who the fuck is it!” Jewelz yelled as she gripped her heat and kept her distance. She knew better than to approach the door to look through the peephole because plenty of idiots had gotten their domes split doing stupid shit like that.

  “Get away from my door before I clap your ass!”

  “I’m looking for Miss Diamond Jordan!” a woman called out loudly. “My name is Beverly Gaines and I was sent from Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center to check on you.”

  Jewelz paused for a few moments, and then responded.

  “What do you want?” Jewelz asked, walking towards the door with the shocked face on. Hiding the gun behind her back, she unlocked it and then opened it just as far as the chain would allow and peered at the small black woman. “Why in the world are you banging on my door like you crazy? You could have just called me and saved yourself some time.”

  “We’ve been calling you over and over but you never answer,” Beverly said quietly. “Our staff is worried about you, Diamond. Do you remember Nancy? The head nurse? Well, she’s really fond of you and she wants to know why you haven’t shown up for the treatments she scheduled for you.”

  Jewelz’s gaze fell to the floor. She had been running off pure rage and adrenaline ever since Slick put her on Goody’s trail, and nothing other than killing him had mattered to her.

  “Um, tell Nurse Nancy that I appreciate her concern,” Jewelz said slowly, “but I can’t come in right now. I have a few things to take care of that ab
solutely can’t wait. I’m sorry.”

  “I really wish you would reconsider, baby,” Beverly pleaded like a caring grandmother. “Without a strict drug regiment and consistent treatment you know what will happen to you, don’t you? Over time your body will get weak and your organs will start to fail and shut down. This is something you can’t fight alone. Let us help you, Diamond.”

  “Now is not the time,” Jewelz said firmly. “I know the risks and I’m fully prepared to accept whatever consequences that come with my decision. Tell Nurse Nancy that I’ll come in as soon as I can.”

  The old lady looked sad. “It might be too late by then.”

  Jewelz nodded. “That’s a chance I’ll just have to take.”

  Jewelz slammed the door closed and pressed her back to it. She knew the words that Miss Beverly had spoken were true. Yet she couldn’t allow her mind to dwell on none of that. Right now she felt halfway strong, and as long as she had strength left in her body she was gonna get her revenge on Handgun Goody.

  Or die trying.

  $$$$$

  Fifteen minutes after Jewelz had closed the door on the lady from the hospital, somebody was out there knocking on her door again.

  Damn, I got random folks bangin on my door twice in one day?

  But when Jewelz answered the door this time the person standing there dressed in a dark imported suit was far from random.

  “What are you doing here?” she stared into his eyes and asked quietly.

  He stared at her right back. His blue eyes were gentle, but they never wavered.

  “Where are your manners, girl? Are you gonna leave me standing out here in the hallway or are you gonna let me in?”

  Reluctantly, Jewelz opened the door a little wider and stepped back, allowing him to come inside.