by David Weaver
his way over there driving the Escalade. The plan was to pay the Coward a visit, then they would ride to the city jail and bond out Jennifer. They rode past both of Malcolm’s security checkpoints and reached the end of the driveway. There was a medium flow of traffic and as soon as he could get a break, Catfish was going to pull out and get into the right lane so that he could head left towards the downtown exits. Suddenly, a car slammed into the front left side of Catfish’s Escalade. The impact shook up Catfish and Malcolm and by the time the Escalade stopped rocking from the crash, they were surrounded by FBI. ATF agents had guns drawn and were yelling as they approached the vehicle.
“Hands up! Hands up! Get your fuckin’ hands up!”
Malcolm and Catfish complied.
“Keep your hands up and step out of the fuckin’ vehicle!”
They did as they were told.
“Lie face down and put your hands behind your back!”
As soon as they touched the ground, they were bombarded by agents and cops carrying guns and handcuffs. The Feds? Malcolm thought, as he was read his rights and placed into a police car. Catfish was placed in a separate vehicle. For a moment Malcolm stared at Catfish with cold, demented, and suspicious eyes as if to say “you set me up?” But when he saw the look in Catfish‘s eyes, he recognized the familiar look of innocence that he often displayed. Catfish felt bad for the murders he’d done against Malcolm’s orders and prayed that Malcolm wouldn’t have to take a murder rap for some shit that he didn’t even know had taken place. Malcolm asked an agent what he was being charged with and he told him that he would find out later. He shifted uncomfortably in the police car and sat there being the only thing that he could be: patient.
$ $ $ $ $ “Conspiracy for international drug trafficking, 30 years to life. Unlawful possession of unregistered firearms, 2 to 10 years, and Unlawful possession of an automatic assault rifle, damn Malcolm ... what the fuck were you thinking? Money Laundering ... Racketeering and RICO charges...”
“Man Bill”, Malcolm said as he placed his hands across his eyes and shook his head, “throughout the years, I’ve paid you close to $1.3 million dollars in retainer fees. Will you fight for me honestly and fairly for that amount?”
“Of course I will,” his lawyer, Bill Green, said. “What is Catfish charged with?”
The lawyer flipped through some paper, and
adjusted his glasses in the process.
“Catrell Smith is charged with everything that
you’re being charged with Mr. Powers. It’s clear that
they are applying a divide and conquer strategy in an
attempt to pressure Catrell into rolling over on you.” Malcolm took a deep breath and closed his eyes
for a moment. His heart was pounding as he visualized
spending the remainder of his 25 year old life rotting
away in the government’s prison system. His soul bled
of a deep puncture. Hope was leaking out of the wound.
Life was dripping away. In its place, failure and hurt
were substituting.
“Bill, I’ve been locked up for three days now.
Can you get me a bond?”
“It’s highly unlikely that you be granted a bond.
Your other co-defendant, Bradley Finks has been
locked up for four days. He lost his bond hearing yesterday. You’re scheduled to go in front of the judge
tomorrow, but even if you were granted a bond, how
would you make it?”
Malcolm forehead was wrinkled up as he
frowned at Bill Green.
“What the fuck! What is Brink charged with?
And what do you mean by how would I make bond! I’m
RICH!”
Bill opened up another manila folder and studied the contents.
“Bradley is only being charged with the conspiracy count which, as I said earlier, carries a 30 year
mandatory minimum sentence. And as far as you being
rich.... Your assets have been seized under the forfeiture provision and accounts have been frozen.” Malcolm’s eyes got wide upon hearing the news
and small beads of sweat began forming on his forehead
and face.
“Look Bill, I got at least $25 million remaining in
an offshore account in the Cayman Islands. I need you
to contact my friend, Pamela Jones, and let her know
what happened. Tell her that I have a bond hearing
tomorrow, and I need her there.”
Bill took his glasses off and laid them on top of
the table. He sat the folder down beside his glasses and
stared directly into Malcolm’s eyes.
“You still don’t get it do you Malcolm? There is
no reason to call her, Malcolm ... she has already
planned on coming to your bond hearing. She’ll be sitting directly beside the prosecutor.”
“What?” Malcolm asked. “Why would she be sitting beside the prosecutor?”
“Shit Malcolm, that’s where the special agents
sit!”
$ $ $ $ $
Even after four months of being detained, Malcolm still had not gotten over the fact that Pam was an undercover federal agent. She was the only evidence on the conspiracy charge, but he knew that she would be heavily protected by the FBI until after the trial, so it would only get him in deeper shit if he had her eliminated. Luther and Prince Tron kept at least $5,000 on his books, and visited him every other week. One week they visited Catfish, then the next week they visited Malcolm. Although he always made store, and always had a visitor, nothing could stop Malcolm from stressing out. He began to find himself emotionally dependent on Tracy. She accepted all of his calls, and visited him faithfully. He had received only one letter from Jennifer. And it said:
I DID 3 MONTHS IN JAIL. I’M ON PROBATION NOW! THANKS 4 NOTHING! LET’S GET THIS DIVORCE OVER WITH. CAN I MAIL YOU THE DIVORCE PAPERS? - JENNIFER.
Since the beginning of his incarceration up until the fourth month, he had lost a total of 40 pounds. The food they served was complete garbage. A rat would prefer a bowl of rat poison over the so-called food that the jail served. He spoke to Catfish and Brink when they were allowed to go on the rec yard. All three had been offered different types of deals. They offered Catfish 3 years if he testified against Malcolm, and he declined. Brink had been offered one year if he turned up Malcolm and Franco Roberto. He declined. Malcolm had been offered a 3 year plea deal, if he led them to Franco Roberto. He also declined. They all had high powered attorneys and were prepared to endure whatever the government threw at them. They knew the consequences of their actions the first day that they got involved. It was their morals and principles that gave the government a hard time. They couldn’t get anyone to mutter a word!
$ $ $ $ $
“Aye man, if ya’ll beat this shit ... I wanna’ be down with ya’ll. The Bankroll Squad! Channel 13 said you was bringing in $19 million a month! Is that true?” Malcolm’s cellmate asked him.
Malcolm laughed, ignoring the question like usual.
“Mail Call!” The stubby guard said as he stood by the nearest table with mail in his hands.
“Powers!”
Malcolm walked to the table and retrieved his mail, which consisted of a new XXL magazine, KING magazine and three letters.
“Aye, let me get that book when you finished!”
“Let me get it after him!”
There had been ten requests by the time Malcolm made it back to his cell. He put the magazines down and looked to see who the letters were from. The first was from Jennifer. He didn’t even open it because he knew it was the divorce papers. The second one was from Tracy, and when he saw the hearts that she had drawn on the envelope, he smiled. The last letter blew his mind. His heart beat sped up to almost double the speed when he saw who the letter was from. He ripped the envelope open and read the letter:
Dear
Malcolm,
I love you so much! I’ve been out of the hospital for three months now. At first, I was temporarily paralyzed and I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. The doctor told me what happened to me and I didn’t even care. I just kept asking him where Malcolm Powers was. He said that he hadn’t seen you in over a month, so I thought that you had given up on me. I called your cell and house phones constantly ... with the help of the nurses. After I came out of the coma, the doctor told me that I would never walk again and initially, I was going to give up and let that be that. Then, one day I got a visit from Prince Tron, who told me everything. When I heard the news, I was desperate to walk again. I had to. I asked for Tron to enroll me into a rehabilitation center, which he did. In there, I worked harder than I ever worked in my life. I can now stand tall and look into the mirror with no assistance. But now when I look at myself, instead of being weak, I see strength! I can walk, run, and function as if nothing happened, but something did happen. Something monumental happened. You showed me that you loved me by putting me on life support when the doctor said that I was dead. A check for $2 million on a “dead” person? And now I’m alive. I feel the pain that you’re going through while being held with no bond. And they’re alleging that you sent “Special Agent Jones” overseas to retrieve cocaine? Ha, what a backstabbing bitch. A 30 year charge? I promise that it’s not going to stick. I’m coming to see you this weekend, from this point on, I wanna’ be know as Mrs. Powers, and I promise to never disrespect your last name. How do you feel about it being me and you? Because when I was paralyzed, that was the only thing that I COULD feel....
Your Wife, Kyla Powers
P.s. I’m handling all of your “problems” in the streets. One down, a few to go. Watch the news.
Book 2
Coming Soon!!!
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