Hoodlum

by K'wan

  Legs looked around to make sure no one was looking, then he moved on Amine. He jammed the pick-like blade into the back of Amine's neck. Amine dropped his tray and gagged. He tried to turn around, but Legs held him in place with the blade. He couldn’t bare to look into his friend's eyes. When Amine wouldn’t go down, Legs broke the blade off. Amine clutched at his neck, but couldn’t get ahold of the lethal object. His legs flailed about as the life drained from his body.

  Legs just knelt there and cried over his friend. He hated himself for what he had to do, but at least Shai would take care of his girl and his baby. He knew the youngest Clark would keep his word. Legs stepped over Amine's body and returned to his cell.

  The white Benz wagon pulled around to the back of the motel parking lot. Gator hopped out of the car, followed by Angelo, and two other gunslingers. At Angelo's side was an M16 machine gun. Gator carried a sawed-off pump, while the gunslingers had various handguns.

  Gator carefully checked his surroundings. They were in a rural town in New Jersey, so all he had to do was look around to see which cars didn’t belong. He immediately spotted an Expedition and a Lexus, sitting on 20s. Those cars definitely did not belong. Gator signaled his people and they began to fan out around the parking lot.

  The gunslingers were to cover the parking lot, while Angelo andGator approached the room from opposite sides. There was no way to tell how many cats Bone had with him, but they were sure he wasn’t alone. Angelo peeked inside the room and saw Honey lying across the bed with Bone. There was also a third shadow cast against the wall, but it was coming from the door. Angelo held up three fingers and Gator nodded.

  Gator took two steps back and slammed his boot into the motel door. The flimsy wood gave on the first try. Bone spun around in shock, but Honey knew what time it was. She jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom. Once inside she locked the door and got into the empty tub.

  The man who had been hiding tried to draw his gun, but the door had his arm pinned. Gator flipped the shotgun backward, with the barrel against the door. He pulled the trigger and sent a hail of buckshot into the man's groin. Without missing a beat, he snatched the door forward and placed the shotgun to the side of the man's head. The gun bucked again, splattering the man's brains on the wall.

  At the sounds of gunfire, the door of the room next to Bone's swung open. The first man to step out caught the full blast of Angelo's M16. The second gunner hopped over his fallen comrade and fired on Angelo. He dodged the bullet and let the Ml6 go from the hip. He laid the gunner right next to his man.

  It seemed like enemies were coming from everywhere. The gunslingers did their part, laying down anyone trying to creep on Gator and Angelo. Gator stepped over the man lying in the doorway and went for the prize. Bone tried to draw, but Gator whacked him across the jaw with the shotgun. Bone cried out like a girl and fell to the ground. Gator was about to finish him, but Angelo stopped him.

  “He's mine,” Angelo said, trading the M16 for a small .38. “It's ‘cause of yo’ snake ass my partner is dead.” He shot Bone in the arm. “A life for a life.”

  “Come on, man!” Bone shouted. “Y’all got it, if you want me gone, I’m gone. Just don’t kill me.”

  “Yeah.” Angelo chuckled. “We do want you gone. The game isover and the Clarks are still in power, son.” Angelo put one in Bone's head.

  To everyone's surprise, a man jumped out of the closet blasting away with two nines. Gator took two slugs to the back and hit the wall. The slugs felt like little fire pellets in his back. His left arm hung numbly at his side, but he was still standing.

  The man turned his guns on Angelo, who was already diving for cover. The bullets slammed into the wall and the television, but never touched him. The man momentarily forgot about Angelo, who was only holding a .38, and turned to Gator. The few seconds that the man had taken to fire on Angelo had given Gator enough time to balance the shotgun against his hip and fire.

  The buckshot hit the man in his chest and sent him flying into the wall, causing his pistol to fire. The slug hit Gator just above his heart and dropped him. Angelo put two more into the man with the .38 and crawled toward Gator.

  “You hit bad?” he asked, trying to examine Gator's wounds.

  “Get the fuck off me.” Gator waved him off. “What does it look like?” Gator cocked his head and heard the sirens getting closer. “We’re fucked.”

  “Nah,” Angelo said, lifting him to his feet. “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

  Honey had just poked her head from the bathroom door to see if the coast was clear. She almost threw up at the sight of all the dead bodies. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  “Girl,” Gator snapped. “You better quit praying and come the fuck on.”

  Honey gathered her wits and followed the men outside. The gun- slingers had already made it back to the truck when they heard the sirens. They weren’t stupid enough to leave the lieutenant and the killer though. They parked the truck a few yards up and waited on their people.

  “Shit,” Gator said, almost making himself and Angelo fall. “I ain’t gonna make it, dawg. Gimmie the sixteen and get the fuckoutta here.” He looked over his shoulder and saw the first Jersey state patrol car jump the curb. “Hurry up, man.”

  “Gator, I ain’t gonna leave you.”

  “You ain’t got no choice,” Gator informed him, as he put the sawed-off to Anglo's ribs. “This ain’t no time to argue. Tell cuz I went out in style.”

  Angelo looked at Gator in amazement. At that moment, he had more respect for the country boy than anybody else in the game. He nodded to his comrade and handed him the machine gun. He started to say something, but Gator's glare gave him pause. Angelo hugged Gator, then ran off with Honey in tow.

  The troopers were swarming into the lot, on foot and by patrol car. There were easily a dozen of them to Gator's Ml6. They surrounded him and ordered that he drop his weapon. Gator looked at the white faces and drawn pistols and gave that infamous smile.

  “Okay, mutha fuckas,” Gator said, hoisting the machine gun. “Let's dance!”

  CHAPTER 33

  FROG PACED THE FLOOR of the project apartment, chain smoking and taking shots of tequila. Getting involved in Bone's little scheme hadn’t played out the way he had expected. He had lost his most trusted friend and a good deal of the homeboys. To make matters worse, the Italians didn’t keep up their end of the bargain. Shit was not going well for Frog, and being cooped up in the house wasn’t helping.

  “What's good, man?” Victor said, waking into the room holding an AK.

  “This shit is driving me crazy, bro,” Frog ranted. “These fucking niggers got me boxed in.”

  “Fucking A, man. Tommy was bad enough, but that fucking Shai is a real bastard. Always so fucking cold. That kid has got issues.”

  “We’re gonna have issues if we don’t get this shit tightened up,” Frog told him. “We gotta be ready if these monkeys come for us.”

  “We’re ready, bro.” Victor smiled. “We’ve got the whole projectlocked up tight. Our men are posted everywhere. They won’t be stupid enough to come in here for you.”

  No sooner than the words had left Victor's mouth, they heard the first gunshots.

  Swan plowed the black Hummer right through the project's fence. The truck spun out and crashed into the front of the building. The other four SUVs followed his lead and rolled into the projects. Men began to hop out of the various vehicles, carrying all sorts of firepower. The people who had been outside ran for any type of cover. The housing project had been in the grip of the Mexicans, but that night they would be liberated.

  “Lay all these mutha fuckas down!” Swan said, standing on top of the Hummer, waving an AR-15. “No civilians, but every mutha fucka claiming Frog, dies!” The men moved to carry out Swan's orders. They had been on the defensive long enough, it was time for them to lay down their claim to the hood. Shai had given them new life.

  Swan ran toward the building where Frog was
supposed to be hiding, followed by six killers. They got halfway to the building, when a wave of Latinos came rushing out. The Latinos were gunning down everything in their path. Swan ducked behind a bench and let the AR spit. He laid down quite a few of the enemies, but they kept coming.

  “These mutha fuckas is coming out in packs,” Born said, kneeling beside Swan. “I hope we got enough guns.”

  “Fuck that,” Swan said, wiping his forehead. “That nigga Frog doesn’t leave here alive. If I gotta tear this mutha fucka down brick by brick, his ass is dead.”

  Swan popped from behind the bench and sprayed the front of the building. When he had an opening, he pulled a concussion grenade and charged the front door. Swan chucked the projectile through the front door and took cover. The grenade shook the lobby and cleared the way for Swan.

  “With me!” he shouted, charging into the building. Latino soldiers were sprawled out all over the lobby. They were unconscious and bleeding from the ears. Swan left two men in the lobby to finish off the wounded. He sent two more up one stairwell and the last two followed him up the other.

  “What the fuck is going on down there, homes?” Frog asked.

  “Sounds like World War Three,” Victor said, running to the window. “There's fucking niggers everywhere.”

  “We gotta get out of here, man,” Frog said, checking his pistol. “Get the money from the back and let's go.”

  Victor ran to the back room and began snatching money from shoe boxes stacked in the closet. He dumped money and drugs into the duffel bag and headed toward the door. Victor froze as a cold chill ran down his neck. He turned around and found himself face to face with Jin Ichiro. Victor tried to reach for his gun, but the brown-skinned Ichiro was too quick. He grabbed Victor's arm and snapped it in his mammoth paw. When Victor tried to scream, Jin clamped a hand over his mouth and snapped his neck.

  Frog began to wonder what was taking Victor so long, so he headed toward the back to check on him. Halfway down the hall, Jin appeared from the bedroom. He moved with blinding speed, but Frog was quicker. He put three in the big man and slumped him. Forgetting about the money, Frog ran for his life.

  “I don’t buy this shit, Mike,” Nicky protested. “All of a sudden, this jig wants a sit-down. Something is up.”

  “Nicky, don’t be so fucking paranoid,” Mike said, biting into his slice of pizza. “This kid is scared to death. He ain’t from the streets and don’t know shit about running his father's business. He needs us to get the wolves off his back.”

  “Shai's been doing a pretty good job of that on his own,” Nicky pointed out. “He's been getting people clipped left and right.”

  “That ain’t him, Nick. That's his people acting off instinct. This little prep school brat is in up to his ass and he knows it.”

  Shai came strolling into the pizza parlor, flanked by Angelo and two soldiers. Two more men, armed with automatic weapons, waited outside with Mike's people. This was to be a meeting of bosses about the state of the streets.

  “Thanks for agreeing to see me,” Shai said politely.

  “Hey, who am I to refuse a friend?” Mike smiled. “Sit down, fellas.” Mike waited until the men were seated before he continued speaking, “Let me start off by saying I’m sorry for what happened to your brother. There was no love lost between us, but I wouldn’t wish that shit on anyone.”

  “Let's cut the bullshit,” Shai said, surprising everyone. “You and I both know that you’re not sorry for what happened. In fact, I have it on good authority that you played a large role in the recent events.”

  “You hold on a fucking second,” Mike spoke up. “You come in here under a flag of goodwill and accuse me of murder? You got big balls, kid.”

  “Indeed I do,” Shai said, adjusting his suit jacket. “Let's be clear on this, Mike. I’m not Tommy. I’m not so blinded by the lust for power that I don’t see what's going on. You made a lot of money selling heroin to my brother. When he wanted to pull out, you caught feelings. 1 know you harbored ill feelings towards my family and I know you gave Bone the authority to kill my father. What I want to know is why?”

  Mike was impressed by Shai's deductive reasoning skills. It seemed the youngster had figured out the whole scheme. Mike thought that he had covered his tracks, but Shai had showed him differently. Had to give him credit for that. Mike reasoned that he had Shai at his mercy, so there was no need to hide it anymore.

  “It wasn’t personal, Shai,” Mike said with a grin. “Me and Poppa made a shitload of money together. He knew how to play ball. Tommy … he had to be a hard-ass about it. We’ve both been making money off the drugs, but Tommy felt he didn’t need meanymore. I had to show him different. Tommy forced my hand. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Indeed,” Shai said, returning the smile. “Mike, I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I like you, or I accept what you’ve done to my family. You’re a coward and a fucking snake. That still doesn’t change the fact that my family has to eat. I’ve come here today to lay things to rest and resume our relations.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?” Mike asked suspiciously. “You come in here talking about making peace, but as soon as my back is turned, you’ll try to put a knife in it. Why shouldn’t I just have Nicky blow your brains out and be done with it?”

  “Because I’m more use to you alive than dead,” Shai said, not moved at all by the threat. “Bone has proven himself to be a fool. You tried to insert him into power and he's just made a mess of things. His people can’t handle an operation of this size, and my people won’t follow either of you. That's why you need me. You have my word that I will not try to take revenge against you for the murder of my father. Besides, business is business. Is it not?”

  “Sure as hell is,” Mike said, giving Shai a “got you by the balls” smile. “Spoken like a true businessman.” Mike rubbed his hands together. “Okay, Shai. You call off the dogs and everything goes back to normal. These are acceptable terms, Shai. You rein in your people and I’ll do the rest.”

  Mike couldn’t believe his luck. Just like he cold Nicky, Shai was coming to make nice. The kid wasn’t cut out for war and he had come to kiss Mike's ass. Things would be sweeter under this Clark than the two before him.

  “I do have a question, though,” Shai said. “The Mafia rule is Deal and die. You managed to orchestrate a drug war to further your own gains, buC never raised Mr. G's eyebrows?”

  “That's old-world bullshit, kid. These old bastards don’t understand the money in drugs. I’ve made a pretty penny right under their noses. The best part is, I don’t have to kick anything back, ‘cause they don’t know I’m doing it.” Mike damn near fell over laughing, while Nicky looked at him in disgust.

  “Damn,” Shai said. “You’re smarter than most people give you credit for.”

  “What can I say.” Mike beamed. “Don’t worry about a thing though, Shai. We’re gonna do some nice business together.”

  “I look forward to it,” Shai said, standing. “Good night.”

  The ascension of the stairs was by no means easy. It seemed as if Latinos were popping out of every crack and crevice. Swan had lost one of his men, but they were still two deep. There was no way to know what waited for them on the top floor, but they had come too far to turn back. It had to end.

  The two shooters who had taken the other stairwell made it to the top first. When they burst out on the twentieth floor, Frog was on his way down the hall. They were momentarily startled, which was all the time Frog needed. He fired his weapon, taking out both gunmen.

  “Down,” Swan whispered after hearing the gunshots. He only heard a few shots, but there was still no way to tell how many people were up there. He eased his head through the stairwell door and saw Frog running back and forth like a caged rat. When he tried to step out, Frog took a shot at him.

  Swan gritted his teeth and took cover. There was no way that he could come at Frog directly, he needed an angle. He motioned for his comrade to tak
e up his position, while he went around to the other side. They had come too close to let Frog get away.

  After the meeting with Mike, Shai and his team filed out of the pizza parlor. No one said a word as they walked the block and a half to the waiting cars. The first car was a white limo owned by Mr. G and the other was the truck carrying Shai's people. Mr. G sat next to Snoop in the back of the limo, still wearing the headphones.

  “Thanks, Snoop,” Shai said, tossing him the tiny microphone that he had stashed in his shirt collar. “Have you heard enough, Mr. G?”

  “Quite enough,” he said, removing the headphones. “Shai, I’m man enough to admit when I’ve made a mistake. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about all this shit that's gone on the last few weeks.”

  “What's done is done.” Shai shrugged. “I just hope we can put an end to this war now.”

  “Consider it finished.” Gee-Gee nodded. “I hope we can continue to do business, aside from the drugs, that is.”

  “Anything is possible, sir. I have to put my family in order before I can do anything.”

  “Well, you know how to reach me, kid.”

  “Indeed I do, sir.” Shai nodded. “And Mike?”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, patting Louie Bonanno on one of his massive shoulders. “He’ll get what's coming to him.”

  Swan crept silently around to the opposite stairwell. He could hear Frog exchanging shots with the gunman on the other side from his vantage point. He eased the door open as silently as possible and homed in on Frog. He popped him once in the leg, sending Frog crashing to the ground. Frog reached for his gun, but Swan mashed his boot on Frog's hand.

  “‘Sup, nigga?” Swan said, placing the machine gun to Frog's forehead. “I believe we’ve got a few things to discuss.”