by David Weaver
Catfish was slightly irritated because it wasn’t the right time to be flirting, but at the same time, the bartender was nice. Plus she said that she was going to show him where the Wolf lived, so his job was still getting done.
“What’s your name? Or should I just call you Ms. Bartender?”
“No you should not. You should call me in a hour when my shift is over with.”
She smiled at him and held out her hand; her other hand was on her hip. Catfish didn’t know what she wanted. He assumed that she wanted money so he tried to put some in her hand. She looked insulted.
“Baby, you don’t do a good job listening do you? I told you that I didn’t want your money. Gimme’ your phone so that I can program my number into it.”
He pulled out his phone it was an Iphone just like Malcolm’s. He handed it to her.
“It’s hard to listen when I’m always giving orders.” Catfish said.
“Oh. ... so you’re a boss. ... that’s what’s up. My name is Tracy ... but everybody calls me Wet.”
Catfish’s eyes seemed to enlarge after she made her last statement. He glanced down at her waist. It was tight, slim, flat and exposed. He glanced at her shorts. They could almost pass for a pair of bikinis. He saw her pussy print and started thinking about what he could do with a woman like that.
“Ahem....” Wet cleared her throat and handed him his cell phone back.
“Don’t forget to call me in one hour.”
Catfish nodded and turned to leave before Wet called out.
“Damn, I can’t catch your name?”
He stopped. Damn, where is my mind at?
“My name’s Catfish.” He smirked at her and left out of the bar.
Catfish, Wet thought. I knew that was that nigga’. Motherfucker!
$ $ $ $ $
Seeing Kyla with tubes, needles, tanks, monitors, and machines going into her body made Malcolm cry. His heart hurt. He owed this woman his life, and if she ever recovered, he vowed to give it to her twice over. Maybe even three times over, depending on how many kids that she wanted. I hope she still feels the same way about me when she recovers, Malcolm thought. He took his left hand and rubbed it across the left side of her face. There was no wound on that side of it. It was beautiful; smooth and bronze.
She appeared to be sleeping, but Malcolm knew this wasn’t true. He knelt down besides her bed and said a prayer for him and for her.
“Lord, I know that I’ve made some mistakes in life. Sins. Some sins unintentional and Lord, you know that
I’ve even made some intentional sins. Lord, I wanna ask for forgiveness for everything that I’ve ever done that went against God’s will. With a clean slate, Lord, I wanna’ ask you to deliver Kyla out of this coma. Forgive her for all the sins that she’s committed. Please help her Lord, and please help me to have her. In Jesus Christ’s name, I pray. Amen.”
“Amen,” came three voices in unison from behind him. He stood up and turned around. It was the doctor, Pam, and Brink.
“I’m sorry Mr. Powers, but there are a couple of tests that we have to run on Ms. Brent. Why don’t you go home tonight and get some sleep, it’s been a very long day for all of you. Just visit her tomorrow, whatever time that is convenient for you and your friends. She’s in good hands, and in the event of a miracle or an emergency, someone from the hospital will contact you.” The doctor offered his hand to Malcolm.
“Wait”, Malcolm said.
He turned to Kyla again, wiped the tears from his eyes, and gave her a kiss on her left cheek. He turned, shook the doctor’s hand and Malcolm, Brink, and Pam left the hospital. Malcolm had arrived at the hospital via ambulance, but when he heard Pam pulling out her keys, he knew that she had driven her vehicle instead of Brink driving his. He didn’t know what vehicle she’d brought out until she pushed a button and a raspberry colored Aston Martin roared to life. They all got inside, Malcolm in the passenger seat, Brink in the back. Pam started to turn the music up, but Malcolm told her to turn it off, there was an important issue that needed to be discussed. She turned it off.
“Okay Pam, I need you to take over where Kyla left off. Brink is your pilot, as he was Kyla’s when she was able to ... be mobile. You will be making flights to Columbia as well as to the countries where the prostitution operations continue to thrive. Brink will teach you everything that you need to know about Kyla’s position. I think you can handle it.”
Pam was stunned and excited simultaneously. She stuttered at first, “You-you-you.... You really think I can?”
“Hell yeah you can!” Malcolm exclaimed. “Well, drop me off at my house so that I can get some sleep. We got business to handle tomorrow evening.” Brink said.
At that, Pam put the car into gear and drove off. Malcolm had turned his cell phone off when he went in to see Kyla. It was the only thing that the robber didn’t take from him. He turned it on. There were three unheard voice messages and three unread text messages. The first text message said: ANSWER YOUR PHONE! It came from Jennifer, his wife. The second text message said: I KNOW UR CHEATING. I HOPE IT’S WORTH IT. 2 CAN PLAY @ THAT GAME! That message pissed him off. He deleted it and checked the next text message. By this time, they had arrived at Brink’s residence.
“Bye Boss. Pam, be ready tomorrow night at 7p.m. We fly out at midnight, but it’s going to take at least five hours to go over the rules. Okay?”
“Okay” Pam said with a smile on her face.
“By Brink.”
“See you tomorrow Pam.”
He shut the door and went into his house as the Aston Martin sped off into the night. Malcolm had a furious look on his face, so Pam didn’t say anything at first. She thought that she had done something wrong. Malcolm laid back and stared out the window of Pam’s car thinking about what the third text message said: DON’T BOTHER TO COME HOME 2 NITE. I KNOW I WON’T BOTHER.
$ $ $ $ $
The Wolf dropped Coward 1 and 2 off at their residence, then he went home and jumped in the bed. Coward 2 was drifting off to sleep when Coward 1 asked him if he could borrow the stolen chain.
“Take it ...” Coward 2 mumbled.
Coward 1 was about to hit Club Lynx, one of the biggest and hottest clubs in the city. It was about fifteen minutes after midnight, so he had at least two hours and 45 minutes before the club closed. Flaunting his newly earned wealth, he rented a limo for eight hours on short notice, by calling Exotic Rentals, a company he found in the Yellow Pages. The limo was elegant, the receptionist explained.
“It comes with champagne, a highly skilled driver-”
“Okay, just hurry and send it.” The Coward exclaimed, cutting the receptionist off mid sentence.
He took a shower and got dressed. As he was spraying cologne on, the limo arrived. He put the chain on and grabbed a small bag full of X-pills. There were about 15 pills in the bag. They were very potent. It was all he would need to get some ass tonight. He did it all the time. He got in the back of the stretch limo and instantly felt like a celebrity. He had about $10,000 in cash on him and he was ready to have a good time. He hadn’t had a good time in months.
“Where to?” The driver asked.
“To Club Lynx Sir.”
The driver tipped his hat at Coward 1 and said, “As you wish.”
The driver had a very formal, British accent. He gave it gas and they were on their way. They arrived at the club at about 1 a.m. The line to enter the club stretched down the block and curved around the corner. The women were beautiful. High heels or stilettos were on almost every pair of feet. The women wearing flats were leaving the club and had their high heels in their hands. There weren’t many women leaving the club. Coward 1 searched the line of women looking for a potential one-night stand. There was a beautiful girl who looked like Halle Berry in the line, but she was in the front and he knew that he would have a better chance getting a girl out of the back of the line. When his limo got to the extremely short VIP line, he told the driver to loop around one time. Halfway
through the loop, he told the driver to slow down by the end of the line so that he could pick up his “friend.” The driver slowed down to a snail’s crawled as Coward 1 searched the end of the line. Then he saw her. She was exactly what he wanted. She looked like a star. He felt like a star. It made perfect sense.
$ $ $ $ $
Damn, I hope that’s not Malcolm in that limousine, Jennifer through as she fidgeted in line. The limousine stopped. Fuck! It is him! Jennifer got so nervous when the door opened that she almost pulled her heels off and ran to a security guard. Instead, she tried to turn and slip around the corner unnoticed. It didn’t work.
“Hey, where you going gorgeous,” the voice said.
It was not Malcolm’s voice. This voice was gentle, almost musical. She turned around to see the face. The face was smiling. She smiled back.
“I was going to leave because the line is just way too long. Why?”
“Because I thought maybe you’d wanna go in VIP with a star” The Coward explained.
Jennifer looked at his necklace. She knew it was expensive because Malcolm had the same type of cross pendant, and he had shelled out $120,000 for it. A real star, Jennifer thought.
“What’s your name?” She asked excitedly.
“Everybody calls me Ward 1. What’s yours?”
“You can call me Jen, and yes, I’d be delighted to go in the club with you.”
The Coward extended his arm. She wrapped her arm around it and went with him back to the limousine. Jennifer was so excited that she could barely control her emotions and statements. Her inner groupie was starting to leak out.
“What do you do Ward?” She asked him.
“I’m a rapper, plus I just did a new movie with Will Smith.”
Wow, she thought to herself, now I can leave Malcolm and still live the good life. The Coward had thoughts of his own, I’m fucking her tonight, no doubt about it. Jen reached in her purse with her pinky and dug out so cocaine.
“Do you mind?” She asked.
“It’s a new habit but it makes me feel good as hell.”
The Coward glanced at the white substance and shook his head.
“Go ahead, but I have something that will make you feel ten times better then coke.”
She thumped the coke back into her purse and stared at the celebrity with eyes of wonder.
“What could top that?” She was curious.
The Coward grabbed a champagne glass and poured some orange juice into it. He did not add liquor, wine, champaigne, or beer. He reached in his pouch and handed her a blue pill with a dolphin inscribed on it.
“Ward, what is this?” She asked while putting it up to her nose to smell it.
“It’s beautiful. The greatest feeling ever. It’s an ecstasy pill.”
“An ecstasy pill huh ... it’s not going to have me going crazy or living in the streets trying to collect cans and sell them for another pill is it?”
The Coward laughed at her naivety. But cut his laugh short when he noticed that she was serious.
“No Jen, an X-pill wont have you selling cans. That’s crack.” He got a giggle out of his statement.
She put the pill in her mouth and swallowed it. It’s a wrap, the Coward thought. The driver dropped them off in the VIP area of the club. The Coward leaned back in the car to whisper something to the driver.
“Give us an hour and 20 minutes max. Pick us up from the same spot.”
The driver nodded his head. He understood. Jennifer and the Coward went in. It was on and poppin’.
six
C
atfish walked to his van with a smile on his face. He was suddenly confronted with the possibility that he could find Wolf and solve that problem on the same night. Malcolm would be elated. He would be rewarded. The Squad’s reputation will strengthen. He couldn’t wait! Tron woke up when he heard the door to the van open. His gun was in his hand awkwardly as he focused on the face and put the gun back down.
“Damn Cat, you was in there forever my nigga’. What’s the word?”
Catfish hoisted his body up until he was settled
in the driver’s seat of the van. He smirked at Tron and laid back in his seat, exhaling.
“Shit, I told ya’ll I could handle my job!” Catfish exclaimed enthusiastically.
“I got a bitch that’s about to get off in about an hour and she gon’ show us where that fuck nigga’ Wolf stay at.”
Tron grinned at Catfish’s arrogance and nodded his head in approval.
“Hell yeah, that’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ about,” Tron expressed.
He looked over at Marco, who had a straight face on display. He was expressionless, emotionless, just ready to handle business. He was tired of waiting. Tired of riding around in a van when he had major business that he needed to attend to.
“Fuck this,” Marco stated.
He grabbed the sawed off shotgun and threw it into his Louis Vuitton Sports duffel bag. He slid on a basketball wrist band and matching head band so that he could exude the image of a basketball player having a late scrimmage. Catfish had anger darting out of his eyes as he gave Marco a menacing look.
“Where you think you goin’ Marc?” Catfish bellowed.
“Nigga’ I’m bout to go get something to drink, I ain’t’ bout to sit here for another hour.”
Catfish and Tron exchanged glances. Catfish rolled his eyes, then he slammed his arm against the door, startling Marco.
“Nigga’, everything is already set up so DON’T fuck nothing up, I’m warning you!”
Marco looked at Catfish and mumbled something inaudible as he moved Catfish’s arm and hopped out the van. What’s wrong with that nigga, Catfish thought as he watched Marco enter the bar.
$ $ $ $ $
The bar smelled like a big ashtray to Marco. As soon as he entered, he squinched his nose up in an effort to minimize the second hand cigarette smoke. There were four pool tables, all of them fully occupied. He went to the bar, but stood at an angle so that he could still look out of the small window at the parking lot. He wouldn’t let the police roll up on that van if he could help it. That would be an instant federal case. Weapons of mass destruction. Marco put some money into the jukebox as R. Kelly’s “12 Play” album boomed out of the speakers. A few women put their drinks down and got up to exhibit some of their drunken dance moves. It looked horrible, Marco thought as he fanned cigarette smoke away from him. The nerve of this bitch ... to walk up this close to me blowing cigarette smoke. She was smiling at him; he was frowning at her. She caught the hint, frowned back, and walked away. About thirty minutes or so had passed before the bartender saw him and started making her way to him. Before she could make it over to Marco, her cell phone rang. She had about a zero percent surprise factor, as Marco listened to T-Pain’s “Bartender” play as her cell phone ring tone. She answered the phone and turned her back in order to have a private conversation. Marco checked his watch and listened as the R. Kelly song faded out. The lower the volume on the song got, the more of the bartender’s phone conversation he could hear. He really wasn’t trying to hear it, but listened absentmindedly; not focusing on the dialogue between the bartender and the caller. Then he heard something that struck a nerve. He could barely make out the complete statements since there was so much noise in the bar. Women giggling, men whooping, and the constant sound of billiards clacking against each other on the pool tables. All he could make out was “Catfish ... van ... yeah ...” Marco moved so that he could get closer to her. He could hear a little bit better now.
“You said you was 15 minutes away? Okay baby, be careful, you know that nigga’ Catfish is crazy. If you want me to, I’ll seduce him and kill the bastard myself.... Oh okay then, I’ma’ fall back. I love you.”
Marco turned and stared at a game going on at one of the pool tables so he wouldn’t seem so suspicious. He was shocked at what he had just heard the bartender speak into the phone, but he couldn’t let it show on his face. He kept his cool. He drummed
his fingers against the clear plastic counter top and jumped; startled, when the bartender came up to him. She smelled like baby powder and had an enchanting smile.
“Would you like something to drink, sir?” Thinking at a frantic pace, he devised a plan. “Sure baby ... just pour me some Hennessey.” “On the rocks?”
“Hell no ... just straight Hen.”
She smiled and went to pour his drink. Marc
stepped back so that he could survey the parking lot for any new vehicles arriving. He didn’t see any. The bartender approached him with his drink in her hand, still smiling.
“That’ll be $3.50 sir.”
Marco reached into his pocket and retrieved a $10 bill. He handed it to her. As soon as her hand touched the money, Marco grabbed her arm and pulled her across the counter top, knocking over glasses in the process. She let out a scream, and Marco jammed the $10 bill into her mouth, causing her to gag. Then he slapped her across her face and told her to shut the fuck up. He grabbed a handful of her hair with his left hand and grabbed his duffle bag with his right hand. He started to turn and leave when the owner spotted the calamity and yelled out,
“Hey buddy! Let that woman go or I’m calling the police! Tracy, baby don’t worry!”
The owner grabbed the business phone as if Marco was really going to sit there and watch him call the police. Marco grabbed the sawed-off out of the bag and heard people start screaming,
“Watch out, he’s got a gun!”
The owner looked shaken when he saw the men and women that were at the pool tables duck down onto the floor. Marco raised the sawed-off shotgun in the air and aimed it at the owner.
“Nooooo-”
KA-BOOM! His head split open like a piñata as blood and skull fragments splattered across the Patron and Seagram’s Gin bottles. The women in the bar started screaming, Tracy started trembling. Marco aimed the shotgun around for a minute just in case someone wanted to jump up and play superhero. No one moved. He looked out of the window and saw Catfish and Prince Tron getting out of the van carrying AK- 47s. He dragged the bartender like a rag doll as she cried out of pain and fear.