Carlos shook his head agreeing.
Lucky said, “So what are we going to do about that? Chavez killed Vic and stole a mill. Then Giadonos killed Skills. I don’t think we’re even.”
Carlos had a look of deep thought on his face, and then said, “Nobody ever gets even in this game. Look, sometimes men have to put the past behind them to get to the future, and that’s what we need to do. My Pops is dead and I don’t know who killed him. I have an idea that Bone may be behind it, but I’m not sure. My dad had old values and did things the old fashioned way. Times and the laws are changing, and if we keep shit going with all the killing and shit we all will be sitting in prison doing a stretch. Never to see the light of day.”
Frank and Rios were nodding their heads agreeing. Lucky continued to listen. He didn’t want bloodshed, and he could tell Carlos didn’t either. What good was money if you were dead or in jail?
Carlos gave Lucky a moment to think then he told him, “I tell you what. The Giadonos were never paid, right?”
“We didn’t give them dagos shit!” Lucky frowned.
“Let’s have a sit down with them. I’ll pay half of whatever they want. You know they gonna tack on interest. We’ll pay them well if they’ll call a truce and we find out if they’re supplying Bone. If so, they will know we’re a team and the wop fuckers will think twice about fucking with you or should I say us.”
The men’s meals were served and they ate. Lucky was down with the deal but didn’t say. He told Carlos that he thought it was a good idea, but he had to have a conference with his men and Carlos knew that meant Slim. There was a lot at stake. Men had been killed, regular foot soldiers and loved ones, but sometimes that had to be put on the backburner to save the lives of others that would be wasted during a war.
After they finished their meal and another bottle of the hundred and fifty dollar wine Lucky asked, “What about my gift?”
Carlos smiled.
“You said you had a gift for me,” Lucky grinned messing with the man. He assumed that the gift was the pact Carlos had offered. He never assumed it was something else.
“Let’s go to my car,” Carlos wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin then stood.
The others followed his lead.
Carlos told Rios, “I’m okay, wait for the woman. She’s at the other table serving. When she finishes, get the bill and pay her and leave her a c-note.”
“Si, you sure you don’t want to wait for me?”
“I’m okay,” Carlos looked at Lucky and Frank. “Just come out when she’s paid. I want to make sure she gets her tip. She treated us well, unlike some of the other waitresses I’ve encountered in places like this. They can at times be some snobby bitches,” he said under his breath.
They left and headed for the parking garage. They arrived at Carlos’ BMW and he popped the trunk. He then pushed certain buttons on the navigation system and a compartment opened. Inside was a kilo of heroin and a bag of ecstasy. He told Lucky that it was a gift to him for a new partnership and that it was some new stuff that his supplier wanted him to try out. Better grade so they could have the best shit on the streets. Lucky told him that he appreciated it, but he never traveled with drugs on him. He suggested that they could chill in the restaurant and he’d have a soldier there within the next thirty minutes to transport the drugs. Carlos told him that that was fine.
Lucky flipped open his phone and was about to call Jamel who was parked one level up. As soon as he dialed, unmarked narcotics car’s tires screeched as the vehicles raced toward the men. They fled but police were coming from every direction. They had prior notice to where the meet was going to take place and they were sitting and waiting, some in the parking lot and some inside the restaurant and adjacent stores. Lucky talking on his cell and running as fast as he could for a man in his fifties dipped to his left when officers pounced on Carlos, their main target. He was breathing heavily talking with Jamel who had started the engine to the Escalade and was about to peel out to make his way to his boss when Lucky told him to stay put, that they had no way out. Jamel told him fuck that, he was on the way. Lucky barked at the nineteen year old telling him if he came he’d have him killed. He was lying but knew the boy would get caught up also and it made no sense, besides he needed him to make a call. Lucky saw the men tackle Frank who had tried to distract to police from Lucky. He had officers running toward him with pistols pointed yelling for him to drop the phone. Before he did, he told Jamel that there was a phone in the glove compartment. To call the name under Aunt Betty and let the person on the other end know who he was. He was to say that he was calling for Lucky and tell what happened and then destroy the phone especially the chip. Jamel heard the police yelling and then the phone went dead. Lucky smashed it just as they got to him and slammed his aging body to the ground. He looked at the other detectives easing a gun from the small of Franks back. His partner forgot to throw it away even though the police would have canvassed the area and found the weapon. They brought Rios to where they had Carlos. He was battered, bloody and bruised. The man had fought to get to his boss seeing as how Carlos had told him to wait behind, but that wasn’t going to fly with the members of their crew. There was no way they were going to let it slide that Rios wasn’t right by his boss’ side to fight to the death to help him get free. Carlos was going to have to call and let his people know that it was his call for Rios to stay behind because Rios would be a dead man for the slip up.
Lt. LaDonna Dixon walked over to Carlos who was being searched by Spivey. She looked at him with hatred in her eyes. Carlos had never met her, and LaTanza never showed him a picture of her sister. That was the way she wanted it—all memories of her family erased. Carlos never knew that his wife’s sister was a Chicago police officer. Neither did his late father, because if the big man had known that he would have never allowed his son to marry LaTanza. Styles pulled the drugs from the car, and all four of the men looked at each other and wondered where the set up came from. They and their crews would have plenty of time to figure it out while the bosses sat in jail.
LaDonna told detective Rivera to find out what vehicle Lucky and Frank came in. When he tried, the two old school cats did what this situation called for, they kept their mouths shut. Lucky needed for Jamel to get away so he could give word of what went down.
Jamel crawled out of the SUV slowly bouncing from car to car. He was ducking and hiding in the shadows of the dimly lit parking garage. He could hear the voices of the police. They had their own language that was different than most people and those voices seemed to be getting closer and he felt a bit relieved when he was able to slip into the stairwell and into one of the adjacent department stores. He was dressed in jeans, a nice sweater, brown leather coat and matching brown Timberlands. He looked like a normal harmless nineteen year old since he took out his braids and sported a small Afro. He’d blown the hair out at Lucky’s request. He went straight to the bathroom and it was empty besides a booster who had done his thing and was adjusting his take that was layered on his thin frame. Once the thief was gone, Jamel sat inside a cramped stall and made a call to one of his homies to come get him.
“Mikey, you still working at that video place downtown?” Jamel asked the kid from his neighborhood.
“Yeah, I’m about to get off in a few minutes and bounce to meet this one senorita I been trying to hook up with. I told you nigga soon as I got my ride it was on. All the hos love Mickey now,” the sixteen-year-old sophomore stated.
“Fuck all that. I need your help. I’m stuck downtown and need a ride back to the hood. Can you swing by and get me?”
Mikey whined, “Man, I told you I finally hooked up with this ho. She been dissing me for the longest and now you want me to give you a ride. Why can’t you call one of your partners with the bad ass whips?”
“Look here, Mikey, when you get me to where I need to go, its two c-notes in it for you.”
Excited Mikey yelled, “Two hundred, that’s what I make in a week!
”
“And Mikey.”
“What?”
“Get your ass here in less than twenty and I’ll get you in the strip club in the private room so you can see what a woman really looks like.”
Jamel gave Mikey the address and the youngster was on his way. Jamel made his mind up to make the call for Lucky once he was safe in his homeboy’s vehicle and was on his way away from downtown.
* * *
It didn’t take long before the story hit the news, like it had when Freddy Fuentes was shot and killed along with his underboss and bodyguard. Now his son, Carlos, was on camera being escorted into the Cook County jail. On one side of him was the district commander and Lt. LaDonna Dixon flanked the other side. They both had an arm and were trying to make their way past the crowd as the uniformed officer in front of them lightly pushed away reporters from the Channels 2, 5, 7, WGN and FOX who were there to spread the news to the public. Styles and Spivey each had Lucky and Frank in their undercover vehicles and took the men out the back, only stopping to catch a glimpse of their Lieutenant as she paraded her trophy in front of the cameras.
Fucking bitch, Styles thought, as he hated the fact that LaDonna was using Carlos as a way to make it to the top. He watched as she walked with shoulders back and her small chest poked out. She thought she was on the top of the world, and her fucking sister. Well that bitch was supposed to have let him have the arrest, but she reneged on the deal. He had to think of what he was going to do next. He looked in his rearview mirror at the man dressed in all Stacy Adams attire. The OG didn’t say a word and didn’t change his facial expression, and nothing he said or asked Lucky changed that. They rolled into the sally port to transfer the prisoners into the correctional officers’ hands. He planned to come back later so that he and the other narcotics detectives could question the four drug leaders. Little did he know, on the way to the station LaDonna had cut a deal with the DEA. She was going to give the case to the Feds and that was fine with the district commander. He’d have his picture on the news, and his name was going to be in the paper. His assistant was just finishing typing up a speech that he and LaDonna were to look over before they stepped up to the podium to face the question filled press.
* * *
“Muthafucking Putas,” Chavez yelled as he jumped from his sofa. He spilled the hamburger and fries he’d purchased from a hole in the wall joint a few blocks away and ketchup was on his plush white carpet. He watched as the commander and lieutenant talked about how it helps when the community gets involved. That it enables the police to do their job more effectively.
The angry Mexican grabbed his beer can from the coffee table and threw it at his television.
“Ay, holmes. What the fuck is you doing? That’s a fucking two thousand dollar Plasma?” Petey yelled knowing that Chavez was normally calm and calculating. He figured it had to have been something serious that pissed him off, but he saw no reason for tearing up your own shit. Petey had seen his dad do that shit when he and his mom fought and then spent the next day fixing holes in the wall or buying new furniture.
“Fuck that. While you sitting your ass over there rolling blunts for the night, Carlos just got knocked.”
“What?”
“That’s right,” Chavez said as he looked at the mess he’d made. He grabbed one of the blunts and lit it up taking a hard drag and holding it so the herb could do its thing. He coughed a bit then patted his young protégé on the shoulder. “That’s why I be telling you to always read the papers and watch the news. So you can be up on what’s going on in the city.” He grabbed his cell to make a call to all the top dogs in their crew. They needed to meet. He then dialed Fernando who didn’t answer, so he left him a message. He then paused and gathered himself before he made the call to the head man’s wife.
* * *
Sitting chilling with Jasmine in her condo sipping on a Lemon Drop Martini, LaTanza was happy and sad. Happy that she was on her way to financial security and that she used the sister she despised to help her get there. She was sad that she and Carlos had to end this way, but her love for him was unconditional and he’d broken her heart, mind and spirit when he began sleeping with another woman to father a son. He should have known that the psychological makeup of his wife from years of abuse would set the dangerous woman off, but he had no intentions of her finding out, not any time soon anyway, right?
Jasmine was trying on a Jimmy Choo dress she had specially ordered when LaTanza’s phone rang. LaTanza noticed the number and quickly got her emotions ready to put on another Oscar winning performance.
She took off the expensive diamond earring that hung from her earlobe. “Hello,” she answered.
Chavez spoke, “Hello, Mrs. LaTanza, this is Chavez.”
“Hello, Chavez, what are you calling me for?” she asked nicely.
“I’m sorry to be calling you. I tried to reach Fernando, but he didn’t answer and this is important.”
“What is it, Chavez, that you need to call me instead of my husband,” she questioned as she looked over at Jasmine shaking her head in approval of the dress she’d just modeled.
“That’s just it. Narcotics picked up Carlos and they got him with heroin and ecstasy. Him and Rios.”
“Nooo!” she cried, scaring the shit out of Jasmine who came running back into the living room wearing nothing but an expensive panty and bra set. LaTanza almost nodded her approval of the Victoria’s Secret item but remembered her acting.
“What?” Jasmine asked concerned.
LaTanza cried, “The police got Carlos. Turn on the news.”
Jasmine hit the remote and the flat panel came to life. She flicked the channels trying to find the story.
Chavez told LaTanza that he was sorry and that he’d get to the bottom of it. He told her that he was meeting with all the top dogs and that he’d keep her abreast of what was going on. She told him that she was going to have Fernando ride along with her and Jasmine to the county jail so she could find out what was going on. She then told Chavez that she’d always trusted him and she needed him to be on top of things. She promised that she’d find out from Carlos who he wanted to run things seeing as how Rios is locked up also, but for now she wanted him to run the show. He told her that he would and that he’d also take any orders from her—whatever she wanted.
She almost smiled knowing that that was the way it was going to be soon. Her husband was getting soft after his father’s death and she was just the bad bitch to get the Fuentes’ back to the way they were supposed to be. She hung up the phone and filled Jasmine in. She called Fernando and he was on the way. Once he arrived the three drove to the county jail so LaTanza could see her husband. Fernando wasn’t aware of what LaTanza had done and he never would have thought that she’d set up her husband so he was clueless. As they neared the notorious jail, LaTanza thought about how a black woman was about to run the largest drug family in Chicago. She was black and just about all the members were Hispanic, but she didn’t give a damn—if someone didn’t like it, they could roll out or get rolled on.
The Ruler’s Back
Slim arrived at the club accompanied by Antwan and Reese, the two men who’d fled to the Cayman Islands with him a couple of years ago. They stepped out of the coal black ’09 Seville STS and headed for the front door. Noonie and DC were standing outside to greet him, and he looked different. He was the same height and skin color of course, but he’d put on a little weight. He had nothing to do with his time but live the life of a king, and a daily workout was part of that. His facial features were a bit tight and hardened matching his now more muscular physique. Ears were curved a bit, and his nose wasn’t as thick as before, and his skin was smooth with a pencil thin goatee. He had a look that was what women liked—a bit smooth and comforting but with a bit gangsta.
Noonie looked in the eyes of his boss as he stood in front of him. There was a pause, and it seemed as if time had stood still. Noonie knew it was the man, and seeing Antwan and Reese whose surger
y wasn’t nearly as good as Slim’s, looked almost the same as they did three years ago.
“So you just gonna just stand there, or are you gonna show your boy some love?” Slim held his arms out and Noonie hugged Slim.
“It’s good to see you back, man. I’m sorry about Lucky,” he whispered in Slim’s ear.
“Oh don’t worry about that. I’m going to handle that and get to the bottom of all the bullshit that’s been going on.” He looked over at DC and smiled. “I know you gonna come greet a nigga!”
“What’s up, fam? I missed you, bro.”
They hugged then DC and Noonie did the same with Reese and Antwan.
Noonie asked Reese, “Damn nigga, you went to the Islands and grew some real dreads, huh?”
“You know it.”
Slim, who was wearing a three-quarter-length leather coat, slacks and sweater told the men, “Enough of this shit. It’s cold and it’s gonna take me some time to get used to the weather here in the city. I’ve been lying up in the sun fucking them pretty island women. And besides I gotta meet that nigga I used to play GI Joe with when we were seven.
They got out of the whipping Chicago wind and once inside, Slim and his boys were impressed with Lucky’s club. Everything was nice from the fancy tables that seated two or four to the new leather sofas that offered a bit of privacy and comfort for a couple, to the long fully stocked bar with a lot of top shelf liquors. On the walls were pictures of jazz musicians, actors and other various black celebrities that entertained throughout the century. And of course the picture that stood out in the center was Chicago’s own President Obama.
The afternoon was usually the time when Frank and Lucky would be checking out bands and singers that were auditioning and poets who were there to try their hand at flowing on the mike. But a meeting was taking place and Slim only wanted the people in the crew to be there for he had to find out what was going on and what they were going to do about his man, Lucky.
The Corner II Page 20