Dutch III: International Gangster

by Teri Woods

  She dressed hurriedly, then slid on a Citizen watch that Director Burns had given her. It was fully loaded with all kinds of gadgets and intel devices. Angel and Goldilocks exited the elevator and walked through the lobby and out the hotel doors to a Suburban that was parked outside waiting for them. Craze opened the doors and Goldilocks and Angel got inside.

  Sitting right there in broad daylight was the man the FBI had been hunting for the past three years.

  “Dutch, this is Goldilocks, and that’s Nina,” said Angel, not realizing she had just sealed their fate. “I think you know everyone else,” Angel added, referring to Craze and Roc.

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” said Goldilocks, extending her hand and shaking Dutch’s. I got your black ass now, motherfucker. You’re going down. Goldilocks smiled and took her seat next to Angel.

  Craze got back into the driver’s seat and sped down the block. They were going out to celebrate and were dining at La Chaumière. Once inside, Roc took a quick glance at the menu and had no idea what to order.

  “I’ll take what you’re having. I got to go to the bathroom.”

  Roc left the table and walked up a flight of stairs to the bathroom.

  Just as the waiter walked over to their table to take their order, Craze noticed three unmarked cars speeding into the parking lot.

  “Yo, hold the fuck up. You see that?” he asked Dutch, whose instincts had him up from the table, his gun in hand.

  “It’s the Feds! We gotta get the fuck out of here!” he yelled to alert Angel as he pulled Nina from her seat.

  They all looked through the window and saw the men hopping out of the cars. Goldilocks recognized them immediately. She wasn’t sure if she should blow her cover and pull out her gun on them or go with the flow and escape alongside Angel.

  Before Goldilocks could think twice, Dutch and Nina had busted through the double doors of the kitchen and were making their way out the back of the restaurant.

  “Come on. Run, we gotta get outta here, it’s the Feds,” said Goldilocks, as if she wasn’t one of them, grabbing Angel’s arm. Angel pulled out her gun and fired four rounds at the agents as they came through the restaurant’s front door.

  “Hurry,” said Goldilocks, running in the direction of Dutch, not wanting to lose him.

  Roc hit the bottom of the staircase, saw Angel shooting at the three agents, took out his gun, and popped off in their direction. He caught one of them in the shoulder blade as he dashed across the dining room and through the kitchen’s double doors behind Angel. The two of them ran out the back door and hopped into the van behind Goldilocks. Craze sped away as the other two agents busted through the back door of the restaurant.

  Roc fired out the van’s window, causing them to close the restaurant door and stay inside as they made their getaway.

  Nina was completely flustered and bewildered, shaken and teary-eyed. “It’s okay. We’re okay,” said Dutch, trying to comfort her. His mind was working a mile a minute, as was Craze’s.

  “All this time we been here, we been straight, and now out of the fucking blue the FBI just pop up for dinner?” asked Dutch, shaking his head, knowing something wasn’t right.

  “Shit don’t seem right,” added Craze, feeling exactly where his man was taking this shit to. Craze circled the block, then pulled into a parking lot and parked the Suburban.

  Dutch hopped out of the van and Craze quickly jumped out behind him. “Everybody, wait right here. I’ll be right back,” said Craze as he followed Dutch. The two walked to a staircase where Dutch turned and faced Craze.

  “You think Roc set us up?” he asked.

  “Roc? Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know, this nigga shows up and now all of a sudden so do the FBI? I can’t believe this shit. I got to get the fuck out of here,” said Dutch, peeking at the lot and the Suburban.

  “I don’t think Roc would do no shit like that.”

  “What if the phone was tapped when he be trying to call home to Ayesha’s dumb ass?”

  “Then they would have gotten us in the hotel, right?” asked Craze. “What about this Goldi bitch Angel thinks is so great. I don’t like her.”

  “What she do?”

  “Nothing, I just don’t like her,” said Craze.

  Dutch thought about it for a second. “Yo. Where did Angel even meet that bitch at?”

  “They met up while Angel was doing that bid.”

  “Angel gonna have to cut that bitch loose.”

  “She shouldn’t have brought that bitch in the first place.”

  “Not yet. Let’s just watch this bitch for a minute.”

  “Fuck! We let them get away!” Agent Shipp was up in arms when he realized they had lost their target.

  “Agent Reese has activated a tracking device, sir,” said Agent Cromwell, looking at a laptop screen. Her tracking device was sequenced with their intel, so they could track her through the computer generated map.

  “Come on, we can’t afford to lose them now.”

  Agent Shipp monitored the tracking indicator as Agent Cromwell deciphered their exact location.

  “Agent Reese is in that building on the southwest corner, sir,” Cromwell advised, pointing to the building across the street.

  “You’re sure?”

  “She’s in there, sir. We got her location pinpointed and locked. If she moves, we’ll know about it.”

  “Got ’em,” he exclaimed, and a big smile came across his face. He knew that Dutch was a sitting duck who was about to get fucked. Shipp pulled out a phone and called in for backup so that the entire place would be surrounded.

  You can run, but you can’t hide. I got you now, Dutch. I got you now.

  THE GREAT ESCAPE

  Dutch had prepared for this day from the moment he had set foot in Paris. If, God forbid, he ever had to be on the run, as he was now, he wanted to have easy access to what he needed to get away. Time was of the essence for him. The faster he got his money, the faster he could dash away and disappear into thin air. His time in Paris had been well spent, well planned, and well thought out. Mr. Odouwo had served the purpose of providing employment, and Mr. Odouwo had given him ample business opportunities, making him wealthy beyond imagination. He had traveled extensively and was accustomed to the finest of everything money could buy. And now he would walk away from the life he had built over the past three years. The fortunate thing was that he could start over.

  He had a little more than eighty million saved and was comforted by the knowledge that Nina was there and that she loved him. It was even more of a comfort to him to know that his friends weren’t behind bars, locked in cells like caged animals. He had done all that he had to do to get them their freedom. Now, he had to make sure they stayed free. Craze was stuffing the piles and stacks of money into oversized duffel bags. Dutch was loading guns and ammunition into another.

  “Grab one of those containers and help me dump this gasoline,” Angel told Goldilocks as she began to pour gasoline all over the hardwood floor.

  Goldilocks had no choice but to assist. Where the hell are they at? She picked up the container and fooled around with the top, wasting time.

  “I can’t get the cap off,” she spat with frustration, as if she couldn’t.

  “Just grab another one and start upstairs! Come on, hurry up!”

  Goldilocks ran up the steps to where Dutch and Craze were. She stepped over broken sheetrock as she walked down the hallway. Dutch had hidden his money between the walls; all $82,327,593 of it. She heard someone coming out of the room and quickly grabbed the container of gasoline and started dousing the floor with it, pretending to be working hard.

  “Come on, hurry up, we about to get the fuck out of here,” Craze said as he and Dutch rushed by, carrying the duffel bags downstairs. Roc was at the bottom of the stairs taking the bags of money and carrying them out to a van that was parked out front.

  Nina just stood watching as everyone moved about the room. The situation was a
little more than she had bargained for. Dutch hadn’t changed, the only thing that had was his zip code. Nina realized that now that she was inside the belly of the beast. Goldilocks and Angel were about to set the place ablaze, while Dutch, Craze, and Roc got the money and the guns into the van.

  “All right, that’s it. We’re out of here. Let’s go,” said Craze, passing Roc the last two duffel bags to carry to the van just as FBI agents bum-rushed the perimeter, guns aimed and ready to do what they do.

  “FBI! Everybody down on the ground now!” one of the agents shouted, waving his rifle at Craze.

  Nina dropped down to the floor as Roc dropped the money bags and dove behind a wall for cover as bullets flew from the FBI’s automatic weapons. Craze and Angel ducked down, crouching in the living room. Nina crawled behind a chair, her heart pounding in fear. Her mind was scrambling for a safe place to hide.

  Goldilocks was on the other side of the room, parallel to Craze and Angel. She ducked and dove for cover as shots continued to ring out behind the wall that concealed Roc. That’s when they heard the sound of a helicopter hovering above them. Damn, we’ll never get away with a helicopter following us, Roc figured to himself, knowing a helicopter would spot them the minute they set foot outside the door. He loaded his automatic weapon. Just as he was about to stick his head around the wall, he saw Nina out of the corner of his eye crawl across the floor on all fours, into a coat closet, where she shut the door safely behind her.

  “Cover me,” said Craze as Angel began to fire off rounds at the FBI. He ran across the floor to the staircase. An FBI agent was about to fire at him just as Angel shot him down. That’s my girl, thought Craze as he made it to the top of the staircase and into the room where he had left a shoulder-launched Lau 65-D missile launcher. He loaded the weapon and held it over his left shoulder out the window. He could see the agents scrambling below him as the local law enforcement worked alongside the FBI, surrounding the house. Craze could hear the helicopter’s propellers and engine before the chopper came in sight. He fired the missile, the force throwing him back and he leaned against the wall. He watched as the missile flew straight for the helicopter and met its target in midair, causing a thunderous blast and propelling pieces of the burning chopper to the ground. Craze dropped the missile launcher and ran back downstairs.

  Roc grabbed a nine-millimeter from the bag and fired at two agents who were closing in on him. Angel had caught a gun in midair that Roc threw to her. She spun around, firing a barrage of bullets, killing three other agents and taking down two more. Nina was inside the closet on the floor in the corner with her knees balled up to her chest, her chin bent, almost touching her knees, and she had her eyes shut tight while she prayed to God that he spare her life. Please, God, please, don’t let me die in here. Please, God, I will do the right thing. I just want to go back home. Please don’t let me die.

  Roc, Angel, Dutch, and Craze were strategically targeting the FBI agents and had killed all but the two remaining agents in sight. And just as Roc was about to peel himself from behind a wall and fire at their backs, Goldilocks came from around the wall and fired a single bullet, hitting him in the neck and taking him down. Roc turned as she lowered her weapon, looking around the room, as he fell backward to the ground. As it fell, Dutch could see half of Roc’s body from behind the wall. He fired at the remaining two agents in the house and ran over to Roc and knelt beside him.

  “Roc,” he called out to his friend, as blood gushed from the side of his neck. He bent over his body, taking Roc’s hand in his own.

  “Go . . .” Roc said, spitting blood as he tried to speak the name of the bitch who had gunned him down.

  “Don’t talk,” said Angel, figuring Roc was trying to tell them to get away.

  Craze ran over to a window and peeked at the police, who were now outside, barricading themselves behind their cars. “They’ve got the place surrounded,” said Craze.

  “Goldi . . .” Roc whispered before his head bent, his eyes closed, and he let out his last breath.

  Dutch looked at Angel, who was next to him. Then he turned around, focusing his eyes on Goldilocks. It made sense. It made perfect sense. Dutch knew exactly what Roc was trying to tell him. He looked around the room. There were no doors, no windows where Roc had been standing behind the wall. He was in a safe spot, one of the safest. And Goldilocks had been the only one next to him, and now he lay dead, the police everywhere, and he was trying to say her name. Why hers? To Dutch, it all made sense. As soon as she got there, the FBI did, too. He didn’t have time to put it all together, but he knew that was what Roc had been trying to tell him.

  “Give up, James! You can’t win! You got sixty seconds, James, before we tear-gas the place. Come out now with your hands up. You got nowhere to hide. Give it up. Live to see another day,” Agent Shipp shouted into a bullhorn from the front of the house.

  Craze fired shots at Agent Shipp, a bullet clipping the bullhorn as Shipp dropped it and ducked for cover behind the door of his car.

  “We gotta get out of here,” said Craze.

  “But how? We’re trapped,” said Angel, not knowing what Craze did.

  Dutch looked at Roc’s dead body, madder than a mad hatter about his money and his guns, which were outside in the van. Fuck! He was so pissed his blood was boiling.

  He raised his P-90 and pointed it at Goldilocks. Angel saw what he was about to do and cried out as Craze turned around.

  “What are you do—” Goldilocks asked as Dutch fired one shot, hitting her at point-blank range. For a split second she stood upright as blood drizzled out a tiny hole in her forehead. Her eyes closed and her body slumped to the floor.

  “What the fuck! What the fuck you kill her for?” screamed Angel, ready to go toe to toe with him.

  “She’s the fucking police. She’s a fucking cop. I don’t know where you got that bitch from, but she’s the fucking police,” answered Dutch without hesitation. “You heard him, whether you wanted to or not. You fucking heard him just like I did,” said Dutch, speaking of Roc’s trying to call out her name as he died. Angel stood silent, not really having any options, but knowing deep down the possibilities.

  “Where’s Nina?” asked Dutch as Craze walked over to the staircase ready to light the trail of gasoline.

  “Here I am,” she said, standing next to the opened closet door in a state of bewilderment after watching Dutch kill Goldilocks.

  He walked over to her, ready to take her hand. “You okay?” he asked, reaching for her.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said as she began to cry. “I just saw what you did. The police are here to arrest you, and before you’ll turn yourself in you’ll sacrifice the lives of all of us. I can’t do this with you, not like this. I want to go home,” said Nina, tears in her eyes.

  Craze and Angel looked at each other, then at Nina.

  “We don’t have time for this right now. We have to go—we have to get out of here,” said Dutch, again reaching for her hand.

  “I can’t go with you. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this. I want to go home, do you understand? I want to go home,” she screamed at him, as if it was his fault she was there.

  Dutch didn’t flinch, he didn’t blink, he didn’t think twice, and even though he had loved her and wanted nothing more than to have her by his side, she left him with no choice. Before she even knew what happened, she had been shot in the chest, a bullet entering and exiting her body, shooting through her chest like an arrow through a heart. A look of panic and shock was all over her face as her body was thrown against a wall.

  She looked at him in disbelief at what he had done to her. She shook her head no at him, her lips parted, and she asked him, “Why?” before taking her last breath.

  He turned around and looked at Angel and Craze.

  “You guys ready to go?” he asked.

  “I need a light,” Craze said as he patted down his pockets, not feeling one.

  Dutch threw Mrs. Piazza’s
lighter into the air, the same lighter he had used to light his cigar and signal the courthouse massacre.

  “Your lucky lighter.” Craze smiled, catching it in midair.

  “But how we gonna get out of here?” asked Angel as the first tear-gas bomb crashed through a broken window.

  Craze lit the gasoline trail and it quickly blazed up the staircase.

  Dutch grabbed Angel’s arm as Craze followed the two of them through a door and down a staircase that led to the basement. Dutch had left no stone unturned. The basement had a trapdoor in the floor that would lead them down another flight of stairs and into a three-mile-long drainage tube that they would crawl through. At the end of it they would be right by the river, where Craze had left a small boat. The boat would take them down the river and voilà, another great escape.

  SHOT CALLERS, BIG BALLERS

  Nigeria, Africa

  Mr. Odouwo stared at the television in total disgust. The breaking news story was featured on every network television station. However, Anderson Cooper was one of his favorite reporters so he always turned his dial to CNN.

  “I don’t understand! Why did they let him get away?” Mr. Odouwo asked one of his guards, in English. The guard had not a clue what he had just said and no clue how to answer his question. Mr. Odouwo wished that the authorities had done their job and had James in custody by now. Instead, they didn’t seem to know if James was dead or alive. Anderson Cooper was standing outside the warehouse in which, the police believed, James was last seen alive. Sixteen FBI agents had lost their lives in the shoot-out and fire at the warehouse and thirty-two more were in critical condition at the local hospital. Mr. Odouwo watched as the bodies of the dead were carried out and lined up in the street outside the warehouse, waiting to be transported to the morgue by ambulance for identification purposes.

  “Excuse me, Detective, can you tell us if James’s body is among the bodies you’ve found?” asked a news reporter.

  “The bodies have been severely burned, so until we get back the dentals and positive identification reports we can’t be sure who any of these bodies are. In the meantime, a manhunt is on, and a million-dollar reward is being posted, just in case James is still out there.”