by Amir Sanchez
He was wheeled into the hospital and taken to ICU where his wife was being treated. Once the room was secure, they unlocked the shackles on his feet and helped him over to the side of her bed. He was still in a lot of pain himself, but after looking at his wife’s bruised and battered body, his pain was numbed. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead while rubbing his hands softly over her body. Hoping that she could hear him, he begged her to hold on to life.
“Baby, you got to hold on. You’re all I got left. I’m nothing without you. Fight, baby! If you make it out of this one, I promise you that I’m done with all that bullshit. I just want it to be me and you, that’s it. I’ve already took the proper steps needed to get out of my situation, now I just need you to get out of yours. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, baby,” he encouraged while holding her right hand in his. At first, there was no reaction. But after a few moments, he felt a slight movement from her hand. Adam walked over and added his two cents to the situation.
“You already know who is responsible for this. If you don’t stop him now, you’ll never stop him. He surely won’t stop until you and everything you love is dead. Think about it . . . Y’all are the only ones that can hurt him right now. After seeing for yourself that this man will stop at nothing to silence you, I hope for your sake that you stay true to your word and give us your full assistance.”
All this was part of the strategy used to further influence Gus’s cooperation. The hospital visit, the encouragement, and the pretend show—as though they really cared. In all actuality, it was just part of the job. When the feds wanted someone, they were persistent and exercised every remedy and resource they had to get the individuals off the street. Even if it meant they had to cut a deal with another criminal to get a bigger criminal off the streets, so be it. They wouldn’t care if someone came forward and said they did some sort of criminal activities with the individuals years ago. If it was reliable and useful to the prosecution, they would have a 5K1 letter prepared to exchange for the information and testimony. Their methods of operation are proven to be extremely effective in the federal system. Regardless of what you are worth financially, who you had backing you, and what evidence they had against you, if you weren’t working with them, your ass would be floating up shit creek.
When Connie regained consciousness, she stared around the room in wonder and confusion. She had little recollection of what took place to put her in the hospital, but the injuries were obvious. She lifted the shirt of the hospital scrubs she was wearing and studied the bandages on her lower side and back. She realized that they were entry and exit wounds. Feeling a burning, stinging sensation on her face, she patted across it with her hands, only to feel stitches and lacerations. Slowly but surely, she started remembering the night of the attempted assassination. More importantly, she remembered the gun and money that were in the trunk and could possibly be linked to her. She became instantly paranoid. Nothing else mattered to her at that moment but getting out of the hospital. As she was climbing out of the bed, a nurse walked in and tried to stop her.
“Miss, please lie back down. You were in a very serious accident last night, plus you were shot. We’re still conducting tests on you. Trust me, you’re in no condition to even be standing up,” she advised.
“I appreciate your advice, but I’m a big girl, and I’m leaving this mafuckin’ hospital right now. So, either you come over here and take these IVs out of my arm, or I’ll do it myself.”
“I’m going to let the doctor take care of this,” she replied before stomping out of the room. By the time the doctor returned, she had already removed the IV, found her shoes, and was on her way out. The doctor really didn’t care whether she stayed or left, but he was told by the detectives to contact them once she began improving. When the nurse informed him that she was attempting to leave, he contacted the detective who instructed him to hold her there as long as possible. In an attempt to do so, he asked her to sign papers.
“Ma’am, these are the release papers that you must sign before leaving. It just states that the hospital is not responsible or liable for anything that happens to you once you leave the premises. Plus, if you’ll stay for a minute, I can write a few prescriptions for pain and infection.”
“Sure, that would be nice. Just give me two minutes to step outside and smoke a cigarette. I’ll be right back in,” she gamed. After recognizing that the doctor was trying to delay her exit, her suspicions were raised, prompting her to get out of there even faster. It was very difficult for her to walk, but she somehow mustered enough energy to do it. While riding the elevator downstairs, she had flashbacks of the way Jihad’s brains were savagely blown all over the place. She was actually falling in love with the nigga, so it was only right that she shed a few tears in his memory. There was no question that Black was behind the hit, because he was the only one that knew where they were eating. She promised to get down to the bottom of it once she got herself together.
As Connie stepped off the elevator, her heart damn near jumped out of her chest when she came face-to-face with a dozen state police. At first, she thought they were coming for her but quickly realized that they were bringing in a prisoner. As she turned to walk away, she thought she was hearing things when someone screamed her name with aggression.
“Get the fuck up off me. Let me go pig motherfuckers.”
Connie would have sworn it was her nephew Leaf’s voice. The voice was so close that she thought he was directly behind her. When she turned to take a look, she made eye to eye contact with her nephew. He looked pretty banged up, and the state troopers had him in cuffs and shackled to the wheelchair he was sitting in.
“Connie, you trifling-ass bitch! Did you kill my brother?” Leaf barked when he saw her. She decided it was in her best interest to ignore him and kept it moving. Her life had turned into a living nightmare. Things just weren’t adding up. Everything was happening way too fast. Not having a clue where she was headed, she flew out of that hospital and put as much distance between it and her as she could.
Adam had just told Gus that he had about twenty minutes left before he had to be returned to jail when an informative call came from his fellow agent, Amy.
“I hope you’re sitting down because when I bring you up to speed on what took place over the last twenty-four hours, you are going to think I am full of shit,” she exclaimed. “Well, since we were both present last night, I’ll move right along. A little after five this morning, Consuela Santana apparently staked out Black’s wife’s day care center. When Chyna arrived with her daughter, Consuela crept up and killed both of them.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Adam interrupted.
“Yes . . . but wait, there’s more. After the killings, she drove to the cemetery where her son was buried, placed a call, and then killed herself. But the best part is still yet to come. We believe that the call was placed to Ka’Leaf because he gathered his two goons from South Philly, and they made their way over to Black’s King of Prussia residence. They forced their entry inside, killed the housekeeper, and began a deadly gun battle in which one of the South Philly guys was killed. The shoot-out somehow escalated to the expressway. After police received calls from a dozen motorists who witnessed it, they set up a road block on the expressway. When the state troopers realized that neither suspect had intentions of slowing down nor surrendering, they opened fire. Black ended up flipping his truck while Leaf tried to escape on foot. They let the dogs go on him, and, in turn, he shot one of them before the other mauled him down to the ground. Black suffered head and spinal injuries, but I am by his side making sure he pulls through. We’re at Thomas Jefferson Hospital.”
“Please tell me there’s no more . . . I already got a serious fucking headache, Amy.”
“Well, there is one last thing, but you’re not going to believe it. I instructed the doctor over at the hospital to call me the second Connie opened her eyes, and that just happened to be around the time I was busy with this mess on the expressw
ay. However, I told him to buy a little time so I could have someone go over and keep a close eye on her. But he let the bitch leave. While I was in the ambulance watching over Black, the crime lab is calling me like crazy, but this piece-of-shit Nextel phone isn’t getting any reception. When I finally checked my messages, I got the surprise of a lifetime. They said the weapon we confiscated from out of the trunk of the BMW was the murder weapon used to kill Sha’Ron Santana. And, guess whose fingerprints and DNA were all over it?”
“Connie’s? Wow! I need a minute, Amy. I’ll call you as soon as I drop Gus back off at the Federal Detention Center. We have a very important meeting tomorrow over at the courthouse, and we all need to sit down and discuss these developments before that happens. Talk to you in a little.”
Before dropping Gus off at the jail, Adam reminded him that he would see him the following day, and suggested he get a good sleep. Afterward, he rushed over to the other hospital to join Amy. When he arrived, he bumped into his fellow agents outside the trauma unit who were engaged in deep conversation with one of the doctors. He caught only a portion of the discussion.
“We appreciate all of your efforts, Doctor, but we need you to do everything in your power to ensure this patient survives. He has caused a lot of mischief on these streets and put numerous lives at stake. It would be a great service to the community and the United States Government if this man pulls through to face justice. We’re aware that you’re one of the best doctors here, and we are prepared to see to it that you’ll get the full recognition, as well as compensation, from the U.S. Government if he pulls through,” explained the agent.
This was another example showing how the feds would stop at nothing to get their man. They were masters at understanding the human mind. People who were promised something in return for their assistance were likely to put more effort into the task than someone who was not. The exchange policy was their most effective practice, out of all their resources. If the doctor was only giving the patient 40 percent of his effort before, he was now giving 100 percent. The doctor began working on the patient as if he were the closest of kin. Had he not given his best, the patient would likely have died from the injuries sustained.
Showtime . . . All for All!
The following morning, Gus was awakened at 4:00 a.m. and notified that he was scheduled for court. The officer advised him that he had thirty minutes to be showered, dressed, and ready to go. His body was still sore from the stabbings, not to mention the emotional pain he had knowing his wife was in such bad shape. Acknowledging the fact that he and his wife’s survival was based on him making a deal with the feds, he swallowed his pride and focused on the big picture . . . which, by his perspective, meant getting out of jail by any means.
After being escorted downstairs to an overcrowded holding tank, he placed his back against the wall and put on the meanest face he could muster. The conversations he heard some of the other inmates discussing openly gave him a chilling realization of how serious the feds were. Some talked about how they had lost a trial because a close friend or family member testified on them, and now they were facing decades of incarceration. Some of their charges were similar to his, which made him a little nervous. Then, there were other inmates that boasted proudly of how they were cooperating with the feds to get reduced sentences. They made it sound as if it was morally correct and acceptable. Now, he understood what the rapper Jeezy meant about having federal nightmares . . . He was now in the middle of one.
Soon afterward, the federal marshals arrived to transport them over to the courthouse. He was placed in a cell that was used to hold the inmates scheduled to proffer (i.e., meet with the federal agents and give information). While waiting to be called, a male figure walking with crutches caught his attention. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Once he had a second look, he was certain it was his cousin, Leaf. They made eye contact briefly before Leaf took the opportunity to whisper insults and threats, which Gus was able to lip-read.
“I’ma kill you and your mom, pussy. I know what y’all did.” Gus didn’t respond. Instead, he chose to ignore him. What the fuck is Leaf talking about? What does he think we did now? And how the hell did he end up getting arrested? He must have just got locked up because he still has on street clothes, he thought to himself. Soon after, the marshals came to the cell and called his name.
“Gus Santana! Come with us.” They walked to a far corner of the building and stopped at an elevator. After the marshals pushed a sequence of codes into the security keypad, it allowed the elevator to come down. When the door opened, Amy and Adam were standing there with serious postures. After signing a few required forms, they were given custody of the prisoner.
Five minutes later, they were being seated inside Prosecutor Joe Khann’s office. After inquiries and introductions were exchanged, they got right down to business. Joe held no punches getting right to the point.
“Fortunately for you, young man, you came to your senses and decided to do the right thing. I don’t know if you are aware, but your cousin Ka’Leaf has been indicted on interstate murder, firearms violations, and killing a police officer. The cop-killing charge stemmed from him shooting a police K-9, which is practically the same as shooting an officer. We also have Black in custody as well. Unfortunately for Mr. Campbell, he has suffered serious injuries resulting from the incident involving your cousin Ka’Leaf Santana. He remains hospitalized, but we are hopeful that he’ll pull through in a few weeks. The moment he starts improving, we’re going to pull him over here and charge him with murder, drug trafficking, and conspiracy charges.
“As our agreement with you states, you are obligated to provide truthful and full details of your role in the drug conspiracy, as well as Black’s status as your boss and supplier. Please understand that if anything else comes up that we feel requires your cooperation, you will have no choice in the matter . . . regardless if it’s your mother, cousin, wife, boss, best friend, enemy, or associate. I hope I’ve made myself clear on that. If you renege on the deal, then so will we,” he explained with a serious expression.
“Now that we have that squared away, let’s move right along to what I need to get done today. I want you to give me a detailed version of how you met Black, your first drug transaction, an estimate of the amount of drugs he supplied you with, your relationship, and any associates you were introduced to through him, and anything else that may be essential toward our investigation. If I’m satisfied with what I hear, and I’m convinced that you are providing me with the official version, I’m going to grant you bail under your own recognizance. However, because of the nature of your crimes and your protection, you will be given minimum freedom until the case is over. Therefore, you will be under the twenty-four-hour supervision of a federal agent and kept at an undisclosed area. The only person other than us that will have access to the location is your wife. She will be taken there once she is stabilized. She’ll be subjected to the same rules and regulations as you, and she has to sign her papers acknowledging that she is cooperating as well. I warn you, if either of you break the rules, you’ll both be sent back to prison. I will not jeopardize the lives of federal agents for carelessness or stupidity. Before I hear anything you have to say, I want you to verbally acknowledge that you understand, and then if you have any questions, now is the time to come forward with them,” he advised.
Gus sat there speechless as he digested every word that Joe had said to him. There were so many things that made no sense, so many questions that he wanted answered but was afraid to ask. He had already been informed that Jihad was working for them ever since being released from jail. But what he didn’t understand was how he witnessed with his own eyes Jihad shoot and possibly kill people while he was working for the feds. Did they excuse it? Permit it? Hide it, or what? These mafuckas is Hollywood, for real. This shit like a chess match. What the fuck did I get myself into? I feel like a piece of shit. Please, somebody walk through the door and tell me this is a bad dream or another test. F
uck it. Reality of the matter is, this shit is definitely real. I got reason to cross these slimy niggas anyway. Ain’t no turning back now. I can’t kill my way out like the state system. I damn sure can’t fight my way out, so fuck it. I’ma talk my way out of this shit, he thought quietly while building himself up enough courage for the challenge ahead.
“Yes, I understand everything you said. As far as questions are concerned, I got millions of them, but I’d rather not know the answers. Trying to figure this shit out here is virtually impossible, so I’d rather avoid the headache and just go with the flow,” he responded with an answer that made the agents and prosecutor slightly relieved.
It took him close to three hours to explain the incriminating details of his and Black’s relationship on a personal level, as well as on a business level. He answered all questions honestly and exactly how the feds wanted him to. Through the story and the questioning, the feds discovered that he wasn’t as dumb as they painted him out to be. He was actually intelligent and knew how to fulfill the position as he was expected to. In fact, the information he provided was so informative and reliable that the agents and prosecutor stared at one another with surprised expressions several times throughout his informing.
They smiled, laughed, sighed, and whistled while showing their overwhelming excitement. Before the meeting concluded, Joe thanked Gus and notified him that he would be freed from the jail later that evening. But, like all good news, it usually came with some bad. This time, Amy was chosen to deliver the bad news.