by Mark Anthony
I wasn’t a video director or anything like that, but I must have struck a chord because everybody was feeling my idea.
“Yeah, hell yeah, I’m feeling that shit. Do you got the chicks to pull it off?” Horse asked.
“Where’s that E and J?” I asked as I disregarded Horse’s question. My only concern was refilling my now-empty cup of liquor.
“Of course I do! But I definitely got the perfect girl to play Angela’s role. Don’t worry. I got y’all, I’m gonna hold y’all down!” I stated in an attempt to sound as down as ever.
“Keep spitti,’ Black Chris! I’m feeling you!” I yelled as I held my drink up in the air and moved my body to the sound of the music.
As I danced I could tell that the other black girls must have been wondering to themselves who in the hell I was. But all of my inhibitions were gone due to the liquor and I continued to draw attention to myself. I knew that there was no way in the world that Horse or Supreme or anyone for that matter could have any questions or doubts in their minds now as far as me being a cop or a fed.
The beat continued to blast in the background and everyone was having a good ole time and Supreme came up to me and whispered in my ear.
“I got that Snoop for you,” he said.
At first I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. I thought that he might have been talking about a Snoop Dogg record or something. But when I looked at him and noticed that he was holding his hand open and down around his upper thigh, that’s when I noticed the ecstasy pills that had the engraving of the Snoopy cartoon character.
I didn’t want to show an immediate reaction so I just kept dancing with my drink still hoisted up in the air. I looked at ’Preme and slowly rocked my head up and down to let him know that I knew what he was talking about. I was more than tempted, especially considering that I’d never seen an opportunity to get high for free which I’d easily passed up. But I knew that I had to be extremely careful because there were a number of agents staked out outside of the studio as part of the surveillance.
With Supreme being the opportunist that he was, he took it upon himself to pass me one of the E pills as he pulled on his blunt. So with the liquor talking to me and with the influence of the entire atmosphere of weed and loud music, I once again readily gave in to my weakness and quickly popped the E pill into my mouth.
I’ll be okay, I convinced myself. I’ll be able to maintain and none of the other agents will even know that I’ve been drinking.
“So when is this gonna hit the radio?” I asked in my intoxicated state.
Horse looked at me and held up four fingers. “In about four days I’m personally dropping it off to Funkmaster Flex.”
I nodded my head and then resumed dancing to the music. The E pill was starting to take effect as that feeling of euphoria was overtaking my body. I felt like opening up my wallet and just throwing money at people because that was how happy and carefree I was starting to feel.
“I’m sorry, I don’t even remember your name,” I said to the cute guy that had poured me the liquor when I first arrived at the studio.
“O-Water,” he replied.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Although there was nothing funny, the liquor and the E pill just made me feel all giggly and happy.
“What the fuck is so funny?” O-Water asked.
“Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh like that. But O-Water, do you see how foul your man is? I came in and you was real polite and asked me if I wanted a drink and all that. But ’Preme been over there pulling on that blunt the whole time I been here and he still ain’t offer me none. You see how he treats me like shit?” I said in a joking manner as I began hugging on O-Water.
Supreme looked over at the two of us and he didn’t say anything. He just gave O-Water a quick head nod and a smirk.
“I gotchu, love,” O-Water stated as he took me by the hand and led me to another room that was in a secluded part of the studio.
When we arrived at the other room I noticed two of the stripper-looking girls that had been parading around were in the room giving a blowjob to one of the thugs that I didn’t know. O-Water quickly spread out some coke on a small table and he prepared some lines for me to snort.
“Don’t ever say that I ain’t take care of you,” O-Water said as he sat at the small square table. “Sit down,” he urged as the guy moaned in ecstasy in the background.
I sat down and although I was feeling extremely good, I only snorted one line of coke.
“You don’t want no more?” O-Water asked.
I didn’t respond verbally. I just stared at him and smiled with my right elbow on the table and the palm of my right hand cupped underneath my chin.
“What’s up?” he asked.
I still didn’t respond. I just stared into O-Water’s eyes as the two girls continued to give the blowjob on the other side of the room.
At that point O-Water stood up and began massaging my shoulders. That instantly got me wet. And before long his hands were down my shirt and cupping my breasts. Before I knew what was what, I had my pants down around my ankles and I was bent over the table and O-Water was sexing me from behind.
The sex felt good, but it wasn’t as good as it had been with Supreme. I enjoyed every stroke though. I also remember thinking to myself, Jessica, this is an investigation, what the hell are you doing?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A week had passed since my sexual encounter with O-Water at the recording studio. And while my superiors didn’t have any idea of what I had done with O-Water, Supreme, or about my drug use, I didn’t need the stress and worry that I had to lug around in the days following my little drug and sex escapade.
I had to constantly cover my tracks because I never knew what an agent was likely to hear on one of the wiretaps. I mean, suppose O-Water and Supreme were on tape talking about how they both banged my back out or something? Or what if they were caught talking about the coke that I’d snorted? How would I explain that?
The truth of the matter was that there wouldn’t really be any way to explain my actions, but I began walking around with fake grams of cocaine and fake ecstasy pills. If my superiors ever brought me in for surprise questioning I would attempt to cover my tracks by showing it and explaining that in certain circumstances I would act like I was snorting coke or popping E pills in order to boost my credibility among those that I was investigating but that I was only ingesting harmless look-alike drugs. I figured that doing that would be better than just denying the drug use. But regardless of my schemes to cover up my actions, I knew that a simple drug test would easily have busted me, so I vowed to myself, like I had done a million times before, to never have another drink and to never touch a drug of any kind. And I especially vowed to myself not to sex any more of the people that I was supposed to be trying to lock up!
* * *
The music video had been successfully shot and it was scheduled to be aired on MTV and BET within the next couple of days. But in the interim, Horse had delivered the single to all of the radio stations in the New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut tri-state area. Needless to say, “The Hit” was a smash hit. It was getting heavy airplay on all of the radio stations and it had instantly created a buzz that spread like wildfire.
All of the local newspapers began running stories about the Mafia being hip-hop’s newest enemy. Many reporters also began writing stories that questioned if there had ever really been an East Coast/West Coast war in hip-hop or if the Mafia had been the one warring with hip-hop all along. And of course came the swirling allegations that drug money wasn’t what had funded Gun Clap records, rather it was Mafia money that had funded the label.
So now all eyes were on hip-hop and from the FBI’s standpoint, we wondered if that would cause a delay in the Calvinos inevitable act of retaliation. We didn’t know for sure so we just had to sit and wait.
But our wait was short lived.
* * *
Gun Clap Records, like all of the major
hip-hop labels, had sponsored a team to play in the famed Entertainers Basketball Classic at Rucker Park which was held every year on the Polo Grounds up in Harlem.
Seventy-two hours after the dis song had hit the radio, Gun Clap Records’ team, which included NBA stars Stephon Marbury and Vince Carter was scheduled to play in the EBC championship game against Fat Joe’s Terror Squad which included NBA star Rafer “Skip-To-My-Lou” Alston and megastar Lebron James.
The stands surrounding the basketball court were full to capacity. The entire park was rammed with people. It was so packed that there were people who had climbed into trees just to get a glimpse of the action that was taking place on the court. The streets were also packed with cars and people. Many of the big names in hip-hop were present. But without a doubt everyone had come to see the two teams get it on.
I was excited and happy to be personally invited to escort Supreme to the game. I sat on the bench along on the sidelines and I watched as Supreme and Horse barked orders to the players on the court as Fat Joe’s smash hit song “Lean Back” rang out throughout the speakers that were placed near and around the court.
“Yo turn that shit off! No disrespect, Joe, but everybody wants to hear that new joint ‘The Hit.’ Am I right?” Supreme asked the crowd as he spoke into the microphone that was reserved for the commentator.
The crowd’s thunderous and enthusiastic response showed that they did indeed wanna hear the new hit song.
The DJ immediately switched up the song. And as soon as the beat dropped, it was like every person in the park had lost their minds as everyone went into a frenzy. The song had just hit the radio but yet it was like everyone knew the lyrics. Horse and Supreme smiled and bopped their heads up and down as Supreme turned up his bottle of Kristal and began guzzling it like a true baller.
All the while the game was still taking place. People had stopped paying attention to the game for a moment as they danced and partied to the new hit record. And just as people were really beginning to enjoy themselves and the close game that was being played, rapid gunfire erupted from what sounded like every direction.
“Get down, get down!” Supreme yelled to me as he, Horse, and I ducked for cover.
“Who the fuck is shooting?” Horse asked.
I didn’t catch any reply from Supreme, as all I could hear was the loud sound of people yelling and screaming and running.
“We gotta get outta here!” Horse nervously yelled to Supreme.
“Oh shit!” Supreme yelled back. “Nah, stay right here, just stay down. Niggas is shooting from off the rooftops of the projects!” Supreme informed.
It didn’t take much of a brain to figure out that Supreme and Horse had to have been the target of what appeared to be an unprovoked shooting. And I knew that if they were the targets then I had to quickly get my black ass up off of that park cement.
I got up and quickly bolted without saying a word to Supreme or Horse. At that point I could hear police sirens coming from every direction and I quickly got lost in the sea of running people. I was just hoping not to fall and get trampled to death and I was hoping that I didn’t get shot.
The gunfire seemed like it would never stop so I kept running until I reached 145th Street and Amsterdam Avenue. There I ducked into a store and quickly called Andrew, my supervisor.
“Jessica, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m okay,” I replied as I breathed real heavy into the phone.
“What the hell happened out there?” he asked.
“I don’t know. They turned on that new song, and all hell just broke loose after that! But listen, I lost contact with everybody and just bolted out of there. I need you to come pick me up. I’m on the corner of Amsterdam and One hundred forty-fifth Street,” I stated.
My supervisor told me that he was only five minutes away. He had been nearby on surveillance, hoping to get a glimpse of one of the Calvinos or their associates.
When Andrew arrived I quickly scanned my surroundings, hoping that no one would see me entering the black Jeep Cherokee with dark tinted windows.
Once in the backseat, I didn’t even acknowledge the other male agent in the front passenger seat—he looked like he was from that school of male agents that didn’t respect female agents.
“You think that was the Calvinos?” I asked Andrew.
The other agent butted in. “That was definitely niggers with a capital N who were responsible for that. It had nigger written all over it!” The agent said as he chuckled.
Andrew chimed in, “I agree, I mean it seemed planned but it was sort of random, like anyone could have been a target. I think that if anything, the Calvinos were behind it and they probably just paid someone to do the shooting for them. It would be a cold day in hell before they would troop to the projects in Harlem during broad daylight to engage in a shooting.”
I figured that Andrew was probably right. But as the evening quickly approached and things relating to the shooting began to unravel, everyone could see that the shooting had definitely been Calvino influenced.
Three people had been wounded during the shootout, and all three were Gun Clap and Supreme Team associates. Horse and Supreme had managed to escape injury but G-Baby was not as fortunate. Or at least that was the rumor that had quickly begun to swirl. Apparently, during the melee, G-Baby, who had been standing on the sidelines of the basketball court with everyone else watching the game, had been kidnapped by someone and was being held in an undisclosed location.
Kidnapping was definitely a Mafia practice.
The Calvinos had struck back. Now it was time to see how Gun Clap would respond.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Andrew and I and a team of four other special agents listened in intently as Supreme, Horse, and what seemed like the entire Supreme Team and Gun Clap camps spoke back and forth on their cell phones.
From what we could make out, no one had heard from G-Baby nor had anyone seen him since the shots rang out a few hours ago in the park. But one thing was certain, and that was that at least four people had given both Supreme and Horse their word that they’d seen someone hit G-Baby over the head with a champagne bottle which knocked him out cold before snatching him up and carrying him off to an all-black 600 Mercedez-Benz that had dark tinted windows.
“Word is bond, player! Shonnie with the big ass told me that G-Baby was running for cover with the whole crowd and some cat stepped up from out of nowhere and just snuffed him with a champagne bottle and dropped him!” Supreme repeated through his cell phone for what had to have been his tenth time telling the story.
“She said it looked like some Brooklyn niggas who did it. And after they dropped him, two cats scooped him up and threw him in the Benz and sped off toward the FDR Drive,” Supreme continued on.
“Brooklyn niggas?” the unidentified male asked Supreme.
“Yeah, but I know them fucking Italian cats is behind this shit!”’Preme stated.
“So what’s deal, what y’all niggas wanna do? I’m ready for whatever. Just give me the word,” the unidentified male assured Supreme.
“Well yo, we at the office right now. It’s like fifty niggas deep up in this joint. Come meet us ’cause we ain’t decided on nothing yet but if shit jumps off you’ll be right here wit’ us,” Supreme stated.
The guy gave Supreme his word that he would meet them at the Gun Clap headquarters within the hour and their conversation ended. The end of the phone conversation meant that we, the FBI, were now in the dark. See, without me physically present around Supreme and Horse to get information, we had to rely strictly on the different wires that we had. So when no one was on the phones we were in the dark.
I quickly came up with an idea to try and get close to Supreme. I didn’t wanna run the idea by my boss because I knew that he might object, but I just had to get physically closer to the action. I went with my gut and right there on the spot I began dialing Supreme’s telephone number.
“Quiet everybody, we got some
thing,” my boss yelled to all of us in the room, not yet knowing that it was me who was dialing ’Preme.
“Yo!” Supreme stated in his usual manner of answering the phone. “Who dis?” he asked.
At that point I held up my index finger to my mouth and indicated for everyone in the room to be quiet.
“’Preme, thank God I got you on the phone!” I stated, trying my best to come across like I was stressed.
“Jessica?”’Preme asked with his deep voice.
“Yeah it’s me. Oh my God! Listen, I wanted to call you but the cops had scooped me up in all of the craziness that happened after the shooting. And then they had to take me to the emergency room to check out my leg,” I lied.
“What the fuck? Don’t tell me you got hurt! I had seen you next to me and the next thing I know you was gone!”’Preme recounted.
I blew air into the phone for dramatic effect before adding, “Yeah I was just so nervous with the gunshots and I saw G-Baby start to run and my instincts just told me to run with him. So he was running ahead of me and he didn’t know I was following behind him ’cause he was about twenty feet ahead of me. And while I’m running it was like from left field or something this guy just whacked G-Baby in the head with a bottle and—”
“Wait! Hold up! You saw that shit too?”’Preme asked me.
“Yes! I was right there!” I emphasized.
“Yo, this is Jessica on the phone. She saying she saw G-Baby get dropped,” Supreme yelled, informing the people around him.