The Syndicate 3

by Brick

  Even when I lived with Mama, I’d find myself gazing off to study the sky.

  Mama would say, “Sometimes even the sky gotta get mad. Otherwise, we little folk and the land can’t get nourished or can’t start anew.”

  Mama always had a way with words in getting us kids together, even when we didn’t want to hear it. I missed her every day, every hour, every minute and wished she was still with us. The day of her funeral had caused the skies to rage, and with it had come a change that made our family start anew. It was wild, and during that ride, I felt as if we all were going to drown if I couldn’t pull this shit off and get ahead of the storm. But I’d done it.

  We’d all done it and survived. Mama had made us eight hood brats—me, Cory, Shanelle, Inez, Monty, Navy, Jojo, and, before her betrayal, even Melissa—stronger. I’d forever be hurt about Mama being taken from us and dropping us in this wicked world. But at the same time, I was grateful that she hadn’t abandoned us in her own way.

  Her legacy was mine, and in the end, through all the blood loss and tears with keeping it going, I had earned my right to it.

  “Nephew, you up?”

  I sat on a private plane, staring out the window at the early morning darkness. It was beautiful watching the clouds shift to reveal different colors of the sky, a range of midnight to light, as the day awakened to the rising sun. Made me think of my life. Made me think of the moves I had made for my family. For my wife, for my baby girl, and yes, even for my niece.

  “What we’re stepping into is dangerous, Uncle,” I said as my answer to let him know that I was awake.

  The sound of Uncle Snap shifting in his seat drew my attention toward him. He sat with his tobacco hat resting on his lap, opposite me and next to a sleeping Cory. My brotha sat with the side of his face plastered to the cozy plane seat, his mouth half open, but with his hands fisted. It was a look and a posture that I was used to with him. It meant he wasn’t deeply sleeping.

  “Indeed, it is, Von,” Uncle Snap said, stretching to rub his palms against his thighs. “But we all know that. What you really askin’?”

  My tongue ran against my lower lip. I glanced at Cory, then back to Uncle Snap. “How’d Mama compartmentalize her normal life as a mother with being who she really was and with the losses?”

  “Ah. Been waiting fa’ ya to ask me that part of all this change in ya life.”

  Sometimes, I still chuckled when Unc’s country accent jumped out. A part of me didn’t want to come off as weak in Uncle Snap’s eyes, but the reality of the game was, he’d been there through my growth and falls, so this was nothing.

  “How’d she do it?” I asked again. “I have us, my siblings, to look after. Yeah, we’re all adults, but still, two of our clan are still in that middle, between being kids and adults. Jojo just was hit with the hardest adult shit ever.” I nodded to Cory, and as I did so, he shifted his head and looked at me.

  “Inez and I will be all right,” he said groggily. “Shit, I mean, the rehabilitation, the doctor visits, it’s pushing at our addictions, but I promised her, myself, and the family that we’d not go down that type of slope ever again. So care for us, but don’t put us on that weight you’ve been carrying, kuya.”

  Kuya was Tagalog for “brother.”

  “You know how I am,” I said quietly.

  The weight of being an elder sibling could be hard, let alone the weight of being a leader. The past year had taught me that. Starting my own financial analyst security firm, J.M. & Co., by staging a walkout with my old employees, whom I had trained, had taught me that. Since I was now a husband and a father to a beautiful baby girl, the weight of my choices and the demands of my work as a part of the Syndicate had me questioning again whether it was worth it.

  “I’m glad you’re asking all the important questions, nephew. That’s why I’m here. Why I promised Mama that I’d look out for you all.” Shifting forward, Uncle opened the front of his button-down coat—it was cold and snowing in NYC—and pulled out something that looked like a cloth-wrapped book. Inside were letters tied together with string.

  “It’s time that you had this,” Uncle Snap said. “I was supposed to give this to you the moment you succeeded in taking over Mama’s chair. With everything that happened, there just wasn’t any time, and when Mama’s anniversary passed . . . it became hard to hand over something connected to her. But it’s time.”

  Mama’s journal was back at the house, protected by Shanelle. I had long since had everyone in the fam read the most important parts of it. Shanelle had even made me a copy of a page of Mama’s journal to keep with me whenever I left to do Syndicate work. Now it looked like Uncle had another journal, and I was silently bugging out.

  “Another journal from Mama?” I asked.

  “Naw. Right here is grown-man business.” Uncle Snap glanced between me and Cory. “See, it takes a strong man to love a woman like Mama. That woman had a heart like no other. It was so big, so connecting, it was hard not to become part of that woman’s spiritual flesh. That’s how it was with her and boss man King. It was how it was between me and her later in life. Mama had enough room for only you kids and that brotha, along with myself.” Something in Uncle Snap’s eyes changed briefly as he said, “And one other, as yawl know.”

  What wasn’t being said was what I had learned in Mama’s journal: her brief time with the Commission head himself, Luciano Acardi.

  Uncle Snap reached over and handed me the bundle. His hand patted the surface of it in respect. “So, that there are the recordings of a mind that learned a few things from Mama while schooling her as well. My former mentor. The man who put me in Mama’s life, Kingston McPhearson.”

  I looked at the bundle, then carefully tucked it in my black blazer-style coat. I had mad respect for my uncle. It had to have been hard to love Mama how he had in secret. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  The OG gave a gentle sigh as he looked out the window. “Ain’t nothin’ but what was the time to do. There’s gonna be some thangs in those letters and that journal that you both are gonna need to know. Especially when we land in New York again.”

  “What do you mean?” Cory asked before I could.

  Stretching his legs out, Uncle Snap gave a slight chuckle. He looked at his watch, then at the two of us. “Gawn and pull out that bundle again, Von, and read the letters. Those are from Mama to King.”

  I did as he asked, and then gently put the journal back in my coat. I then pulled out the first letter I saw and opened it. “Dear King, I wish you were here with me, but I know a leader has to do what he’s destined for, like you taught me,” I said, reading aloud. I paused and looked at Uncle Snap.

  “I’m all right, nephew. Read on and let me tell yawl the rest of the story of why Mama went down to ole Creek Town to protect ya mama, Toya, after her assault.”

  Both Cory and I blinked in confusion and said in unison, “There’s more?”

  “Mm-hmm . . .” Uncle Snap ran his hand over his cap and looked at us with sadness and happiness behind his moist eyes. “That it is. Sometimes, as yawl learned, people can do the most damaging thangs, to the point that sometimes you gotta cut family from ya life and act like they never existed.”

  Turbulence in the plane made us shake. We waited it out until the ride became smooth again, and then Uncle Snap pointed toward the letter.

  “That’s what Mama had to do to get through her life in the Syndicate. That’s what she did when she became a foster mama as well. Family was everything to her, but when family breaks you, you sometimes gotta do what’s best for your heart. That was . . . until the day she got a call. Gawn and read that first letter before we land.”

  I glanced at Cory. If what Uncle Snap had said was in the letters was really there, then Mama and I had more in common than I knew. I licked my lips again and began to read, and I kept reading until we finally landed New York.

  * * *

  “Ain’t no fucking way,” Cory said in a low voice as he sat by my side. “This shit is
wild, my nigga. What do we tell Lucky? Shit . . . Do we even tell him? is the real question.”

  I was on my cell, texting Shanelle in code that we had landed, telling her to send me pics of her and our baby girl. Because, mentally, I had just been fucked up by Mama’s secrets, as my brother was so eloquently saying by my side. I then sent a text to Monty to remind him to protect the family house with the Thieves, who were the family’s personal bodyguards, and especially to keep an eye on Jojo. After that, I quickly stashed my cell, looked at Uncle Snap, and then rubbed the waves on my head.

  I said, “We don’t say shit until—”

  “Until we handle this business, nephew, and until we come face-to-face with his mother,” Uncle Snap interrupted. “Those letters have been copied, with a second one written just for her sister. I know Jai sent them on Mama’s behalf, but as you see, the woman ain’t reached out to me about it. So, we keep our mouths shut until we—I—am in her face. Understood, nephews?”

  This was the time that we had to step back and let Uncle Snap control the game. And honestly, I was thankful, because I didn’t know what to do with this shit.

  Cory said, “But, all this time, Mama had a sister and ain’t said shit. Why?”

  “Right. I met her.... I knew I wasn’t tripping when I saw her. She looks like Mama, but different. Like unless you knew Mama, you’d just say that they had a passing similarity. But fuck, that woman is her mirror, just older and Lucky’s mother.”

  Uncle Snap rubbed the back of his neck, with a frown. “Yes, and she is a hellion. And yawl both know a bit about secrets and not revealing identities, remember?”

  Cory thumbed his nose. I could tell the wheels in his head were turning while we were exiting the plane. “A’ight. At first it was because they were mad at each other. But after, it was what?”

  “Protection within the Commission itself. Something the Syndicate, at that time, didn’t need to know. That’s it,” replied Uncle Snap. “Some shit is just for family, ya feel me? But yawl will find that out in the rest of the letters.”

  “This is crazy,” I quietly said to myself.

  The little bit that I had read, I knew that I wanted to send to Shanelle. I needed her thoughts on this too, because sometimes it took a woman who’d been through shit to understand another woman’s plight. So I planned to send a sealed copy back with one of the “Forty Thieves.”

  “We’ll be chill and play it as is. For now, we need to find out who’s offing the Commission,” Cory said.

  “Agreed,” I said, glancing around the airport.

  Several holding buildings for various planes flanked us, as well as the private jet behind us. The chill in the air, mixed with the snow on the landing strip, had all our teeth slightly chattering. Occasional flashing lights could be seen in the distant morning sky. We had arrived in New York City at seven in the morning. Two slick black armored Escalade SUVs with reinforced wheels pulled up. From the sound of the engines, I knew that they were tricked out for speed.

  Two men stepped out of the rides, both in black suits and black leather, with driver’s gloves and hats. Cory gave a nod, and four of the Forty Thieves who were with us moved in to inspect the cars and the drivers. Once everything was cleared, the drivers included, we all entered one of the rides, while our Thieves got in the second SUV.

  I gave a sidelong glance at one of the drivers, then chuckled to myself. The inside of the SUV had been redesigned for luxury. There were four rows of espresso-toned leather seats, with the Acardi moniker on the headrests. On the ceiling were folded-up screens, while the back of each seat had a compartment for a laptop and a keyboard. A mini fridge had also been incorporated into the design.

  “Very nice,” Cory said as he relaxed.

  “It should be. Cost a mint, capish?” said our driver.

  “A’ight, Lucky. What’s going on for you to be dressed like the help, my dude?” I asked the back of his cap-wearing head.

  I wanted to talk to the brother about everything. I was now studying him, just to see if he had any traces of Mama’s family traits. Lucky pulled off smoothly, leaving the lot behind us. It was the morning rush hour, and the roads were thick, especially the highway that we were now entering.

  “So, what’s up with the look?” I asked.

  An anxiousness in my spirit had me checking our surroundings. I saw Cory, who sat in the front with Lucky, do the same thing. Everything looked normal. There were some old jalopies, luxury rides, everyday new rides, some trucks, some hybrids, a few service rides, vans, and more.

  I asked, “Is it really that bad that you gotta meet us incog-negro?”

  Lucky’s leather-gloved hands gripped the steering wheel to the point that they strained under his hold. Lucky then looked left over his shoulder before quickly swerving the car through incoming traffic.

  “Someone tried to kill my uncle. Shot him clear above his heart and into his shoulder,” Lucky said grimly. “Someone broke into Cavriel’s home, the place he felt was his sanctuary, and desecrated it by shooting him point-blank in the head while he was in the middle of his Shabbat. Now Absolan is gone. His church ransacked.”

  There was a moment of silence, until I heard a beeping.

  “You made the right choice in reaching out to us. We got you,” I assured him.

  Make no mistake, everything Lucky had stated made me think that the war that was coming to the Commission was a well-planned hit. Because the old heads were out of commission, it was up to us in the new generation to protect the foundation.

  Lucky gave me a quick look, then nodded. “Good, because we have a problem. That’s my alert that we have trouble.” He glanced in his mirror, then said, “We’re being followed.”

  Immediately, I turned to consider the clusterfuck of cars on the highway. “Cory,” I simply stated while I moved to pull out my Glock.

  “Already checking our eyes,” Cory responded, clicking on his cell, then raising it to his ear. “What’s the rundown?” Cory made some “mm-hmms,” then said, “There . . . white van on our right. Two lanes over, at our three-thirty. The windows are tinted, so they can’t make out who it is.”

  Thumbing my nose, I scowled. “Lucky, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that I was trailed. They had to have been parked somewhere near the airport,” he answered.

  “So, what are you going to do?” I asked, studying the brother.

  Lucky watched our back, then hit his Bluetooth to make a call.

  “Waiting on orders, boss,” the voice said on the other end.

  “I know you all see that van,” Lucky said. “It is trailing us. Go ahead and let it ride us. Cloak the license plates, and then push them off the road.”

  “Yes, sir.” With a click, the call was ended.

  “Ante up, my friends,” Lucky said. “I’m about to hit this gas. If you got silencers, use those.”

  We all nodded, ready for the bullshit. Ready to do what we did best and take out some motherfuckers. As we went in our pockets for our silencer pieces, Lucky hit the switches for the automatic windows to open them. Cory reached in his black cardigan coat and pulled up a black mouth mask. His long crinkled locs were pulled back so that he wouldn’t get them in his face. So, he was good on that. Cory positioned himself and glared, reminding me of some Method Man look back in the day.

  Cory asked, “Ready?”

  Pulling up my own mask, I gave a nod and looked at Uncle Snap. “Ready.”

  Uncle Snap tilted his head low, then took the winter scarf on his coat and wrapped it around his body. He reached by his seat and pulled out a suitcase. After popping it open, he reached in and removed two disks. When he squeezed the sides, lights lit up on them, and then we swapped weapons. He then began putting together a long shotgun.

  “Go,” was all he said.

  Lucky hit the brakes, then maneuvered the car to where we were in a clear lane. Our guards behind us whipped their SUV in a way that forced the van to the side railing, which allowed us
to coast up along the side of the van. We all turned to look at the van. When the sliding door of that bitch opened, we knew that this was no accident.

  “Take ’em down,” I yelled. I threw the disks in the van. Uncle Snap tossed me my gun and at once started taking out some niggas.

  Inside the van, I could see that they were all white dudes, which I made a note of, with a female driver. Cory leaned over to hold the steering wheel and gave Lucky his Glock. More rounds were pumped off. Most of the cars around us saw only that we were speeding. Some honked their horn and moved out of our way. Only a few realized that we were in the middle of gunplay.

  “Get them off the road,” someone shouted from the van.

  Big mistake. These stereotypical guido-looking motherfuckers aimed their weapons at us, then emptied all they had. The force of their guns caused the armored car to shake. The noise was so loud that we couldn’t hide our actions anymore. Lucky stopped his shooting to take over the wheel. We all did our best to shield ourselves.

  Cory let off some rounds. I did the same, but it was Lucky’s quick thinking that got us out of there. Working the car like it was a part of him, he shifted, then made our ride jet forward so that our guards behind us took our place. Everyone else in the car who wasn’t driving watched them take over our stalkers.

  “Ahead is an exit, and the cops are coming. I’m getting us to the family high-rise, so bear with me, fam,” Lucky announced. Because of his quick driving, Lucky had managed to trip up our own guards, to the point that our cell phones began going off. When he guided us back on the highway in the opposite direction in order to take a roundabout way, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. There had been several accidents on the highway because of us, and one involved the van that had trailed us.

  Somehow that bitch was upside down, and our security was nowhere to be found.

  We all put our weapons away and sent messages to our security team that we were good. This fast-paced mofo named Lucky then took us through back ways until we ended up coming up on an unassuming garage. Like a drift car expert, Lucky whipped the car around to back us up. Lucky parked, looked at us, and sighed.