Wrong Step (Urban Fiction): A Sinister Syndicate Thriller

by Kyle Robertson

  “You’re from Africa. How so you know the word conscript?” Tyler asked.

  “I speak many languages fluently, Tyler. Ewe, Twi, French, Akan, Dangme, Russian, Nzemaa, Xhosa, and English is my ninth. I know what a conscript is,” she said.

  “Well he has been drafted in this war. We just have to execute right in order not to get his ass shot off.”

  “Okay, that’s your department, and yelling at each other doesn’t help. I bet his girlfriend likes his ass, so help instead of yelling.”

  Sheddi was right. Tyler was treating him like a trainee in the Ranger Brigade. He was feeling like those scary Black Hat instructors in Airborne. He stopped his harshness.

  “I’m sorry, Marnu. It just feel to me like you volunteered, and when you understood it, you wanted to run. If I wasn’t trained, and went against the Afghanis, I’d want to run too. Let’s get you trained so you can defeat your enemy. They play checkers, and I’m gonna teach you chess.”

  Marnu realized Tyler was here to help, so he eased up as well.

  “I didn’t mean to belittle your methods. I just help people, and hurting people is contradictory to my beliefs. Tina’s my sister, and helping her is automatic. I actually told everyone you were our experienced one to calm them, but I guess I was the only one not listening to myself—train me.”

  “I guess your words were powerful, because the ladies ganged up on you for your hypocrisy. I’ll train you.”

  They commenced in making their plan.

  ~~~

  Jabril entered Adan’s office feeling better because he had some good news.

  “Whatcha want, Jabril?” Adan asked.

  “I got anotha prospect, Pop. Her name is Jodie, and she’s a day trader.”

  Adan became cautious of Jabril’s exploits after the Moira incident.

  “Is she Irish? Tha last prospect ya had kicked ya in the nethahs.”

  “She’s East Indian, and I don’t think kickin’ her man is allowed in her cultcha. She won’t have that Irish fiyah in her.”

  “The gal bettah be tame, Jabril. I don’t wanna shoot anotha feisty one,” Adan said.

  “She won’t kick me, Pop. I just hafta learn how ta skydive, and snow board. Her hobby’s extreme sports.”

  “That’s why I pay ya well. Ya always take tha next step ta get tha business done. I take it she’s gonna teach ya.”

  “I’ve learned stocks, bonds, and the foreign exchange system. I can do tha physical. That’s no problem.”

  “Then I guess ya have sumthin’ ta talk about wit’ her,” Adan assumed.

  “How do ya think I got her in tha first place? Muscles are nice for some gals, but my mind was sexy ta her,” Jabril said.

  “Ya not just a brute, ya use ya brain. Tha others can just shoot. Ya make this thing happen, Jabril. Ya my right hand.”

  “I just do what ya do, Pop. Use my skills.” Jabril had a look of pride in his eyes. “But don’t discount ya enforcahs. They all can hear a pin drop in a shag carpet.”

  I didn’t discout’em. I just defined what they do. We wouldn’t be chillin’ at Rasta Records if they didn’t shoot well. Ya just a hunky, brainy pahtnah. We all have a job ta do, and if we do it, we’ll be rollin’.”

  “So ya sayin’ we’re safe here,” Jabril said.

  “Tha cops know who we are, and where we are. They won’t touch us because I pay them well.”

  “What about dat Chinaman cop? He still wants ya head.”

  “His team are tha only ones who can’t be bought, except one. Mags is my Iscariot factah.”

  Jabril smiled.

  “So ya have man in his team ta make it impossible for tha Chinaman cop ta arrest us.”

  “Stupid, desperate criminals are locked up. Smart criminals stay free. Look at all tha Wall Street criminals that destroyed Americahs economy—they free.”

  “So ya get what ya can,” Jabril said. “Ya got it all covered.”

  “There’s just one thing that’s messin wit’ me, that gal. We hafta kill’er.”

  “Sheddi’s long gone, Pop. She’s smart enough not ta mess wit’ tha Mambas. Ya killed Moira, so what makes her invincible? She’d be a grass snake in a mongoose cage.”

  “She’s a gal, Jabril. A stupid gal who works wit’ emotion, not common sense. I shot her friend. She wants payback.” Adan was concerned.

  “Let her try, Pop. She’ll be shot before ya knows she’s here if she knows where here is.”

  “Tha gal is a cop picture taker. She probably works wit’ tha Chinaman. If he knows where we are, she’ll know as well. Tha Mambas ain’t hidin’, and wit’ her resources, she can find us.”

  “If she does, she bettah bring a nuclear missile in her pocket. If she’s smart, she’ll avoid this place.”

  Adan felt the assurance from Jabril, but leading the Mambas in New York held more caution than his words.

  “If it goes down, I’ll get it taken care of. Go skydive wit’ Jodie, ya got anothah chance.”

  “I’ll play wit’er, and snag her this time.” Jabril was confident.

  As he left, Adan thought, don’t mess up this time, because gettin’ kicked in the nethahs would be heaven compared ta what Ma will do to ya.

  Chapter Six: It was All Fun and Games… Until Now

  The Shepards went to Jamaica Queens. Tyler was friends with the proprietor of the program, and he lived on Francis Lewis Boulevard. That was about a quarter mile from Round Rasta Records on Jamaica Avenue. The Dread Mambas showed pride in their island country to a fault.

  Reggie saw Tyler, and the crew, and let them up.

  “You only came here once for dinner, Tyler. What’s going on?” Reggie asked as he opened his door.

  “This just got deadly real, Reggie. The Dred Mambas are trying to kill Tina, Marnu’s friend from Ghana, and Abena asked me for help.”

  Reggie became concerned.

  “Why are you here? The Dreads don’t operate in Queens.”

  “They don’t want crack heads on their sidewalk,” Tyler said. “Their headquarters is the Round Rasta Records warehouse. We need to get in there.”

  “Round Rasta’s doing a charity event for the poor. How are they Mambas?” Reggie asked.

  “Can we come in, Reggie? I think Mame’s getting chilly in this hall.”

  Reggie forgot his cordialities with the bombshell Tyler just dropped, and caught his rudeness.

  “I’m sorry, Mame. The wildest thing Tyler said to me the last time he was here was he liked mayonnaise fries—come in.”

  They all entered, and Tyler answered Reggie’s question.

  “The Dreads have been poisoning this city for years. They avoid the bad guy label by giving a little so they can take a lot.”

  “How do you even know the Dreads work out of Round Rasta?” Reggie asked.

  Sheddi interrupted.

  “Knocks gave him that information, and since he’s an NYC detective, I believe him.”

  Tyler had to clarify.

  “That’s Sheddi… uh, Tina. She’s an investigative photographer, and the ‘Knocks’ guy she’s referring to is Detective Tanaka. He’s been wanting to climb inside that warehouse for years, but rules and red tape have held him at bay. I’m a three tour Afghani vet without those hindrances, and a Seal trusts a Ranger.”

  Reggie knew of his Middle Eastern tours, but going against the Mambas will be deadly. The Soup Kitchen Commandos weren’t helping his confidence.

  “You shouldn’t mess with the Mambas. The Afghanis were religious nuts. The Mambas are all about their money.” Reggie warned.

  “All enemies are the same, they just have different causes. A Mamba’s skull shatters from a bullet the same way a Mujahedeen’s skull does.”

  “You’re morbid, Tyler,” Sheddi said. “You talk about shooting someone in the head like you do it every day.”

  “I did in Afghanistan. The first kill was hell, but you get used to it… eventually.”

  Marnu asked, “What’s the plan, Tyler?”


  Sheddi broke in.

  “Not killing I hope.”

  Tyler got serious.

  “I’m still a Ranger. My job was to neutralize the enemy. If I have to kill someone who wants to kill me. I’ll opt for neutralization instead of a bullet.”

  “Osei saw the darkness in Tyler’s look, and spoke up.

  “I’ve seen you at the kitchen helping, and even playing touch football with the kids. You’ve broken that lead weight on your shoulders from war. You don’t want to wear it again. Neutralization doesn’t mean killing. You’re smart enough to find another way. Besides, the government won’t protect you as a civilian. Over there it was war. Over here it’s capital murder.”

  Osei was right. This won’t be burrowing in the sand to take out a Jihadi attacker, this mission wouldn’t

  have his normal black and white order. In civilian life you have to accept many gray missions.

  “Okay, I won’t kill anybody, but don’t bitch when I dislocate some joints. They’ll be incapacitated, not dead. Okay, phase one is to blend in around the warehouse.”

  Salom asked a question.

  “Are we going to get some Army camouflage?”

  Tyler looked at Abena.

  “Now I see why you got me. Camouflage is just thar, Salom. There was a reason we didn’t wear our green camos in the desert. The Jihadi soldiers would be able to pick us off in a sand storm with green camo. You’ll probably be dresses like a hooker, or a meth head. Detective Tanaka’s squad was all around me, but all I saw was homeless. They blended in.”

  “Salom’s gonna be a chickenhead because she can’t fake the drug thing,” Abena said.

  “Funny, Abena. I don’t even know what a chicken head is,” Salom said.

  “That’s a penis hungry skank. You can pull off the hooker thing.”

  “Are you two done?” Tyler asked irritated. “This is serious. I’m trying to keep you alive without killing anybody. Stop making fun, and listen. You won’t get a do over this time.”

  Abena stopped playing with Salom. They were deep in the murk, and was about to go behind the enemy’s line.

  “Sorry, Tyler, but this whole thing sounds too dangerous not to kid to keep your sanity.”

  Tyler had to step back himself. He did the same thing to Marnu earlier. They were givers not trained covert warriors.

  “No, Abena, I’m sorry. I’m treating all of you like you volunteered for the Army. This isn’t boot camp, and joking actually helps. I was a Ranger, and joking wasn’t allowed in training. What can I say? Rangers are inherent assholes,” Tyler said.

  “You protected us,” Reggie said. “Being an asshole is highly accepted.”

  It was Marnu’s turn.

  “So Salom’s playing a hooker. What’s my role?”

  Tyler looked at how large Marnu was, and contemplated,

  “You’re too large to play a crack fiend, and since you have all your teeth, a meth head’s out. How are you and Salom?”

  “Marnu looked at Salom, and knew they were fine with each other.

  “She’s okay because she can make a mean sweet potato and peanut stew.”

  “Thank you for noticing,” Salom said.

  “I’m glad you two are cool with each other because you’re going to play her pimp.”

  Salom shot a crazy look at Marnu, and before she began to shake her head, Tyler clarified.

  “This will be a surveillance mission. We need to know their routines. A pimp with his property won’t stick out. Just avoid the real street walkers. You’re thin. Osei. You, Abena, Mame, and Nana play the homeless. I need the intelligence so Tina and I can infiltrate, and take pictures quickly. Have you ever been in a deadly situation while recording anything?”

  Sheddi was very experienced in deadly situations from gangs to mafia.

  “I’ve taken pictures of illegal trafficking, drug deals, and shady contraband sales.” She unzipped her pants, and showed her leg wound. “And I have the scars to prove it.”

  Tyler became very nervous when Sheddi unzipped.

  “Okay, zip up, I believe you. When we get their routines, we’ll infiltrate, and get those pictures.”

  Reggie was a zoning licenser in his real job, and was able to access Round Rasta warehouse’s blue prints on his computer.

  “Here’s the layout, Tyler. You don’t want to aimlessly search when you’re on a very restrictive time table.” He printed them, and gave them to Tyler.

  Tyler looked at the layout.

  “Where did you get this?”

  I’m a zoning licenser, my job has every blue print for every structure in this city. I have access to what you need. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  Tyler saw the larger area where the contraband should be.

  “Abena, surveil, and report what’s surrounding the immediate area around the north corner, and tell me the closest entrance, whether it be a door, window, or garage. I just need to know what I’m breaking into.”

  “You’re not a thief,” Abena said.

  “I’m a Ranger. We do more than just shoot. My job was to disrupt the enemy, and a padlock couldn’t stop that. The Mambas might have more advances security, but it won’t make any difference. This is why you guys are doing surveillance. A Ranger prepares so he can complete his mission, and stay alive for the next one,” he explained. “And they said my MOS couldn’t be used in civilian life.”

  Sheddi was curious.

  “What’s an MOS?”

  “It stands for military occupational specialty. I can’t infiltrate, and kill the enemy working for Dow Chemical.”

  “I bet you could get a job at a retail store with those qualification,” Sheddi joked.

  Tyler grinned, and planned out their mission. It was going to happen in the morning. They got their rest to be ready for the morning.

  ~~~

  It was six in the morning, and Osei pushed his newspaper laden shopping cart in front of the warehouse. He had old clothing, whiskey bottles, old subway ticket stubs, and other homeless paraphernalia. He looked homeless with those patched bell bottoms on. Reggie had a pile of donated garments for the soup kitchen. Their observers were authentically equipped with the proper gear, and Salom finally understood the true meaning of camouflage.

  “Osei, it’s Tyler. You good?” Tyler transmitted from the burner phone.

  Osei looked around to see if anyone was near enough to hear him. He spoke into the ear bud.

  “I’m good. These people move around early.”

  “They call it the city that never sleeps for a reason. Don’t freak out, and just log the warehouse’s movements.”

  “The closest entrance is a steel security door,” he reported.

  “Good, they didn’t modify anything. I’m a security nut—I can get in there. Now this is the boring part. Just rove around, and check out who comes. Couriers, deliveries, Mamba henchmen, anyone. How’s the roof look, Nana?”

  “There are a bunch of guys at each corner of the roof just listening to Reggae, smoking, and looking out.”

  Tyler turned to Sheddi.

  “We have to deal with a sniper hit squad, great. Are you sure I can’t shoot anybody?”

  “We’re the good guys, Tyler. You’re getting this information to beat them non-lethally. You can incapacitate, not kill.”

  Tyler had to work not to do the easy thing, and shoot. He was in the military, and was a master of covertness, so he had to go back to his training.

  “Good work, Nana. Just see how they move, their breaks, and everything. Call me if anything changes drastically.” Tyler turned to Sheddi, “We’re gonna do this tomorrow night. Are you ready?”

  “Have camera, will travel, boss.”

  Tyler smiled.

  “All we need now is for Salom to monitor the night activities, and Marnu for protection.” He turned to Salom. “And no picking up johns, young lady.”

  Marnu joked.

  “But. Tyler, you know businessmen like the dark meat.”

&n
bsp; Tyler grinned.

  “I believe they’ll get their fill with the regulars. Just do your job, and shield her from the pros. I don’t think they like territory infringement. They won’t challenge another pimp. Just look all mean.”

  “I’m boring anyway, Marnu. They won’t want my A cups, and boy-like hips anyway.

  “You’re breathing, Salom, they’ll bite,” Marnu said.

  “That’s where you’ll come in. Make her off limits. You can do that for one night, can’t you?” Tyler asked.

  Marnu knew his back story, and would be dressed to the nines, so he would pull it off.

  “Okay, Tyler, one night. If she wants to street walk after, it’s all on her.”

  “Miawanum, Marnu.” Salom told him to shut up in Twi.

  “Look, I know Farsi, and Arabic,” Tyler said. “But I think she just told you off, Marnu.”

  “That was Twi, and Salom just doesn’t know when I’m kidding,” Marnu said while smiling at Salom.

  Sheddi smiled.

  “Don’t worry, Salom. Marnu has come down with a slight case of America. Leave him on the Serengeti Plains for a month, and he’ll act right.”

  They waited until the night, and saw all the movement, the deliveries, comings and goings, but the lookout stayed there .It was Salom and Marnu’s turn. They waited two hours before something was said.

  “We have to do something to distract them, Tyler, “ Sheddi said. “You can’t break in with them watching,”

  Tyler thought about the situation, and called Marnu.

  “Marnu, Tyler. Start an argument with Salom. Tell her that it’s part of the plan.”

  Marnu was decked in an Armani pinstriped suit with Salom in her miniskirt.

  “What would we argue about?”

  “Do that ‘bitch betta have my money’ argument, but don’t blow up completely. Just start it today so we can prime for tomorrow.”