Baltimore Chronicles

by Treasure Hernandez

  “You want me to take care of it, boss?” Flex reached for the gun in his coat pocket.

  “Nah. Leave it. We just need to be on guard. Matter of fact, get a nigga in here to install a security system. See if any mu’fuckin’ police tryin’a creep up on us.”

  “Bet.” Flex entered the house.

  Scar looked toward the woods before he re-entered the house. Damn. I thought it would be peaceful up in the country. Nigga can’t get away from stress anywhere.

  Chapter 2

  Powdered Courage

  Security was tight at the funeral for former Chief of Staff Dexter Coram. The procession of politicians from the city and state seemed endless—not because they liked Dexter and wanted to pay their respects, but because every press outlet was there and they could get their faces on TV and their names in the papers. In fact, most of them were grossed out by Dexter and his sleazy, down-low, perverted flirting. If they didn’t think they could promote their agendas, they wouldn’t have been there.

  Lurking just on the outskirts of the funeral was Dexter’s boss, Mathias Steele. The disgraced former mayor was not invited to the funeral. Most of the city was blaming him for the death of Dexter Coram, as well as for the corruption that had riddled the city of Baltimore during his tenure as mayor. Many people in his government had been killed, including three police chiefs and most every member of the drug task force, the D.E.S. The only surviving member of the D.E.S was Derek Fuller, who happened to be the brother of Scar Johnson, the most notorious gangster in Baltimore.

  “Look at these hypocritical sons of bitches,” Mathias snarled as he watched the politicians enter the church. The park across the street from the church created a nice vantage point for him to watch without being seen or recognized. “Not one of those cocksuckers is clean, and they all turned their backs on me.” Mathias was enraged and mumbling to himself like a homeless person.

  The minute word had gotten out that the governor was forcing Mathias to step down as mayor, no one would return his phone calls. All of his once-allies were now his enemies, and he was hell bent on making them pay for their disloyalty.

  “You’ll get yours, you bastards. I’ll make sure of it. First I’ll take out Scar Johnson, and then y’all are next.” He took mental notes of every politician who entered the church.

  As the crowd out in front of the church was dwindling and the funeral seemingly about to start, the biggest motorcade of them all came rolling in. From the limousine stepped Governor Thomas Tillingham. Mathias’s blood boiled at the sight of the governor. He was the one man Mathias had needed to stand behind him, but the governor was the first to turn his back. Even as the mayor had struggled to keep morale high in the city, his approval rating was dropping. Residents were losing faith. When Police Chief Hill and Dexter Coram were blown up separately on the same day, the city was suddenly on a witch hunt, and Mathias was the target. When the governor came in, he could have backed Mathias and calmed the cries for his resignation, but instead the governor forced him out of office. It was politics as usual. In the end, no one had any loyalty.

  Mathias watched the governor shake a few hands and make his presence known before entering the church. The hoopla died down and calm descended upon the street. The only people left were the press and State Police keeping an eye on the surrounding area. Calming himself down, Mathias sat on a bench and read the newspaper he had bought on his way to the funeral.

  His calm didn’t last for long. The headline that he had been avoiding since he bought the paper brought his anger right back. It read: HOW MUCH DID HE STEELE? The article was full of speculation about Mathias and his time as mayor. Mathias was furious about the things being said about him in the article. He was being blamed for the crime on the streets and for allowing Scar free reign over the poorest neighborhoods while protecting the rich sections. The article blamed him for starting a class war and turning his back on the neediest citizens. They also hinted that he may have actually been working with Scar.

  The thing that really upset Mathias the most was the part of the article that said the governor had come in and rescued Baltimore. Officially the deputy mayor was in charge, but everyone in politics knew that Governor Tillingham had taken control and was cleaning up the corruption left behind by Mathias Steele. Mathias felt like the article made him look incompetent as it blamed him for all of the city’s problems.

  Mathias was in denial and blamed Scar for the problems in the city. “I’m gonna clear my name and show these fuckers who’s really responsible for this shit.”

  Mathias closed the newspaper and turned his eyes to the front of the church. After an hour of sitting there and obsessing over the article, he watched the people file out at the end of the funeral service. Governor Tillingham appeared at the top of the steps and the media swarmed. The governor held court like a king among his peasants. Mathias seethed on the inside.

  As the governor was speaking to the press, he looked across the street into the park. Without missing a beat, he whispered into the ear of one of his staff, who then whispered into the ear of one of the police officers guarding him. The next thing Mathias knew, there was an officer standing right next to him.

  “Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave,” the officer said to Mathias.

  “This is a public park. I think I’ll stay,” Mathias calmly replied without looking at him.

  “Sir, I don’t want to ask you again. You need to leave this area. It’s for security purposes,” he said a little more forcefully.

  “I am no threat, and you can’t make me leave a public space. Now I’m asking you to leave,” Mathias replied, keeping his eyes locked on Governor Tillingham.

  The governor was watching the whole thing transpire while he kept answering questions from the press.

  The officer quietly spoke into the microphone attached to the sleeve of his suit, then awaited the reply from his superior. “Copy,” the officer answered.

  “Sir, if you do not cooperate, I will have no choice but to use force to remove you.”

  “Fuck you.” Mathias lost his cool. “Do you know who I am? I’m the mayor of Baltimore. You take orders from me.” Mathias was staring at his reflection in the cop’s sunglasses.

  The officer grabbed Mathias by the arm with one hand, while his other hand was on his weapon. He picked Mathias up off the bench and began shoving him away from the church.

  “If you don’t leave now, I’ll arrest you.”

  “Fuck you. I’m the mayor!”

  “No, sir, you were the mayor. Now you are no one.” The cop pushed Mathias to the ground.

  Mathias was humiliated and wanted to jump up and fight. He thought better of it when he looked up at the officer standing over him with his weapon drawn.

  “You’ll regret this.” Mathias stood up covered in dirt and walked away steaming mad.

  It was now a tie between Scar and the governor at the top of Mathias’s most hated list. As he walked away, Mathias vowed to himself to give a little payback to the governor for his disrespect.

  Mathias walked into East Baltimore with one thing on his mind. He needed to buy a gun. He didn’t know how to go about buying one, but he figured he had a good chance of buying it in the hood. As mayor, he spent no time in these neighborhoods. This was all new territory to him. He felt like an exposed target walking these streets. His designer suit and tie made him stick out like a sore thumb.

  He tried to appear calm as he proceeded down Eastern Avenue. His eyes were darting back and forth; his body was tense, like he was waiting for an attack at any minute.

  A young boy about thirteen years old jumped out of a doorway and blocked Mathias from going any farther. “The fuck you doin’ around here, nigga?” the boy asked.

  “I’m looking to purchase something,” Mathias said.

  “You got money, I got what you need. I can make you feel good.”

  “I’m not here to buy drugs.”

  “The fuck you need then?”

  �
�Young man, I doubt you can help me. I need to speak with someone older. Perhaps you have an older brother?” Mathias asked.

  The young banger looked at Mathias with disgust and confusion on his face. They stood staring at each other, the boy trying to figure this dude out, and Mathias not knowing what to do or how these negotiations were supposed to happen.

  “Yeah, a’ight. I can introduce you to my brother. He inside. Follow me.”

  They walked toward the boarded up house they had been standing in front of. The boy walked up the three steps to the front door and pushed the plywood board back so they could enter. As soon as Mathias was inside the doorway, the young boy spun around and caught him with a fist to his jaw, sending Mathias slamming into the wall.

  “Mu’fucka, who you think you is? I got what you need.” The boy stood in front of Mathias, pointing a gun at him.

  Mathias was stunned.

  “Now, what you need, nigga?”

  “I–I need a gun,” Mathias stammered. His heart was racing. Never before had he been in a situation where his life could end at any second. He had been sheltered his whole life. He was now getting a taste of what the streets were really like.

  “Shit. Why you think I can’t get that for you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never bought a gun before.”

  “You a cop?” the kid asked.

  “No.”

  “You look like a cop. I hate cops. I have no problem shooting cops.”

  “I’m not, I’m not. I swear.” Mathias was trembling.

  The boy stood there studying Mathias. He wasn’t nervous at all, because he had been on the streets since he was nine. He’d lost any fear he had years ago.

  “Open yo’ shirt.”

  “What?”

  “Open yo’ shirt. I wanna see if you wired.”

  “What?”

  The boy reached out and ripped open Mathias’s shirt, exposing his bare chest. “A’ight, you ain’t wired. Step into my home.” The boy pushed Mathias deeper inside the house and followed behind, keeping his gun aimed at Mathias’s back.

  The house was dark and cold. There was no furniture except for a television, a dirty mattress on the floor, and an old torn-up couch in the living room. The boy pushed Mathias down onto the couch. Mathias was beginning to think his life was going to end in this godforsaken place.

  The boy pulled a pen cap out of his pocket, along with a baggie full of cocaine, and tossed both to Mathias. “Yo, before we go any further, you need to take a bump from that baggie.”

  Mathias caught the baggie and pen cap. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Nigga, snort some cocaine from the bag so I know you legit. Scoop it out with the pen cap and snort it.”

  “I’m not here to buy drugs.”

  “Mu’fucka, if you don’t snort some shit right now, you gonna die.” He raised the gun and aimed it a Mathias’s head.

  “Okay, okay.” Mathias opened the bag, scooped out a huge bump, and snorted it up his left nostril. He immediately felt a burning, then a numbing sensation in his nostril. To him it felt like the cocaine shot straight through his skull, directly into his brain. His eyes widened and his heart started racing. He felt great.

  “Wow!” Mathias smiled, which made the boy smile as well.

  “Now I know you legit. You want a gun? You wanna be a gangbanger, Grandpa?”

  “Yeah, I need a gun.” The cocaine was making Mathias clench his jaw.

  “A’ight. I can get you a gun. But you ain’t just buying a gun from me. I’m a businessman, and my business is cocaine. You need to buy some shit from me so my bosses can see I’m hustlin’ out here.”

  “Oh, definitely. Whatever you need.” Mathias’s leg was twitching rapid fire.

  “How much money you got?”

  “I have a thousand dollars. Is that enough?”

  The boy didn’t say anything. He just stared at Mathias. This was much more than the boy was going to ask for. He was trying to hide his shock and excitement.

  “Damn. That’s all you have? Usually I wouldn’t do this, but I like you, so I’ll sell you a gun and that bag for a thousand. You gettin’ a good deal. Normally it would be at least fifteen hun’ed.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Thoughts were racing through Mathias’s mind a mile a minute. He reached in his pocket and handed the boy the stack of cash.

  “Bullets not included.” The boy emptied the clip of his gun and handed it to Mathias.

  “Oh, sure. Yeah, of course.” Mathias put the gun in his pocket. Now that their transaction was complete, both of them couldn’t wait to leave. The boy wanted to jet before this dude realized he got suckered. Mathias wanted to leave because the cocaine had him so high he needed to get outside and walk.

  “You need more coke, you come see me. I got rock, too, if you need it,” the boy said.

  “Yeah, yeah, okay.” Mathias walked out as fast as he could.

  Once on the street, Mathias was so high he didn’t realize that he speed-walked all the way back to his nice, safe section of Baltimore. The cocaine had him flying high and feeling like he could conquer the world. He was positive that he would destroy Scar and Governor Tillingham now that he had a gun. He felt invincible, and he couldn’t wait to get home to do another bump of coke.

  Chapter 3

  Hotel Love

  The lobby of the downtown Baltimore hotel was empty as Cecil entered through the front door. He wasn’t surprised, since it was the middle of the night. He saw only one person, a little Asian man swinging a buffing machine back and forth over the marble floor.

  I don’t know why motherfuckers don’t be robbin’ hotels more often. Ain’t no one here to stop you. I might have to take this place down myself, he thought.

  He made his way through the massive lobby to the front desk. Sitting atop the counter was a silver bell like Cecil had seen in the movies.

  This shit is crazy. Not even a person at the front desk. I should just rob this place now and stay somewhere else.

  He pushed the button to ring the bell. There was some rustling in the office to the left behind the desk. After a short delay, a young white guy in his early twenties came out of the office. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was disheveled. Cecil figured the kid had been asleep in the office.

  “Hello, sir. How can I help you?” the clerk said.

  “I need a room.”

  “All right.” The clerk typed something on the keyboard and read the computer screen in front of him. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “No, I don’t. I didn’t think I would need one.” Cecil joked, “And by the looks of your empty lobby, don’t look like I need one.”

  Either the clerk didn’t get the joke or he ignored it. “Okay, sir. No problem. I would be glad to assist you.” He typed a few more things into the computer. “Will you be needing one or two beds?”

  “One.”

  “We have a nice deluxe room with a king size bed.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  “I’ll just need some information from you. First and last name, please.”

  Cecil was a little caught off guard by the question. He paused for a second. He knew enough not to give his real name. “Chuck Bell.”

  “Okay, Mr. Bell. Your mailing address?”

  “Ah, well, that’s a problem.” Cecil paused and the clerk looked up from the computer screen. “See, my wife and I are moving here to Baltimore, and we don’t have a place to live yet. I just got a job. I had to leave Atlanta to move here.”

  He was lying, of course. He had come from Florida to Baltimore with Tiphani Fuller, his girlfriend. She had told him a sob story about how three men—Scar Johnson, Derek Fuller, and Mayor Mathias Steele—had ruined her life and taken advantage of her. She was seeking revenge against these three men and had convinced Cecil to help her kill them.

  According to Tiphani, Scar was a vicious criminal who tried to have her killed after she presided over his case. Instead of protecting her
, the mayor had Tiphani arrested for corruption, which Tiphani said was based on lies and rumors; and Derek was trying to keep Tiphani away from her children. For these actions, Tiphani decided they all needed to die, and Cecil was so blinded by the good head she gave him that he was willing to do anything for her.

  Little did Cecil know that she had chosen him when she read his rap sheet while he was in prison. She saw that he was a decorated soldier with extensive combat experience. He was smart and dangerous, the perfect man for Tiphani’s scheme. That was why she started visiting him in jail and developed a relationship that continued after he was released.

  The clerk blankly looked at Cecil. Cecil had no idea what the kid was thinking, and it made him a little nervous. He quickly calmed down, telling himself there was no reason to worry. Tiphani was the only one who knew anything about his involvement in the recent murders in Baltimore, and she was an accomplice, so she sure as hell wasn’t going to speak up. Cecil had made sure that a few weeks ago, when he came up from Florida for the first time, no one had seen him blow up the cars of Police Chief Hill and Chief of Staff Dexter Coram. Those murders were the first wave in Tiphani’s retaliation, and they had brought about the firing of Mayor Steele. Now Tiphani and Cecil were here together to finish the job.

  “Congratulations on your job, sir,” the clerk said. “It’s not a problem if you don’t have an address. Your work address will be fine.”

  Damn. I can’t tell him my job is to kill three dudes, Cecil thought.

  “Ah, just put down City Hall as my workplace.” It was the first place that came to Cecil’s mind.

  “Excellent, sir. You’re here to get Baltimore back on the right track. Lots of changes going on over there at City Hall. Personally I thought Mayor Steele was horrible. I’m glad to see he’s out of there.” The clerk entered the address of City Hall without even needing to ask.

  “Yeah, he made a real mess of this city. Unfortunate that the police chief and his chief of staff were murdered.”

  “Yes, it was. I hope they find the son of a bitch that did it. Excuse my language, sir. I just get angry when I think of innocent people losing their lives.”