Gangsta

by Foye, K'wan

  "This is what we gonna do. I want at least one blood on every set dropped. If you happen to catch more that one body, oh well. I want it to be made crystal clear, that we want the nigga or bitch that gave the order. If they don't up em, we keep killing, period. I don't care if we gotta splatter everything red in this city, they better give that mafucka up. Either that, or these streets gonna run red wit them busters' blood." Lou-loc's speech had the effect he hoped it would. The crowd had become a violent mob. Lou-loc looked down on his crew and smiled like a proud father. These were his children, and if he asked, they would follow him to the ends of the earth.

  After the crowd had died down, Lou-loc motioned for Pop-Top, and Snake Eyes to join him. "These are the men you will answer to during these troubled times." he said motioning towards the two men. "All you cats already know Top, he'll be over seeing the troops out in the field. But I want to introduce to my main man, Snake.

  "I know you see him standing there in his shoes and specks, but don't get it fucked up. He's one of the most cold-blooded studs you'll ever meet. He done saved my ass on many occasions back home in L.A., and done dropped quite a few people, so don't let his appearance fool you. He'll also be providing legal services for those of you who'll need it. He's our minister of defense.

  "These are two of my most trusted partners. You show them the same respect that you would show me. Now, y'all niggaz go lay it down. Show these mafuckas that the name 'Crip' still mean something in these streets."

  Lou-loc threw up his C's and all the home boys responded in kind. The crowd filed out with murder on their mind. The park had emptied out leaving only the three leaders.

  "That was one hell of a speech." Top said patting Lou-loc on his back. "Shit, I'm ready to go bust on something."

  "It's gonna be a lot of heat on us, cuz." Snake commented.

  "A whole lot of mafuckas is gonna end up on the slab." Lou-loc looked at his homey and smiled. "I guess the stock in funeral homes is gonna go up, huh? Remind me to call my broker in the morning."

  Top thought that the comment was funny, but Snake Eyes didn't see it that way. Unlike everyone else, the murderous gleam in Lou-loc's eyes didn't go unnoticed by him. It was a look that he hadn't seen in a long time. Since the night when Lou-loc had murdered Stan.

  "You a'ight, Lou?" Snake asked.

  "Never better." Lou-loc said, entirely too calm. "You got my package from Wiz?" Snake Eyes handed him a duffel bag and stepped back.

  "Yea, I got it." He said. "Man, those is some strange ass chi-canos you fuck wit, cuz."

  "Nah, the twins is cool," Lou-loc said. "Wiz, he just a lil different. Y'all niggaz go home and get some rest. I'll call you sometime tomorrow afternoon." Before waiting for a response, Lou-loc strolled off into the darkness.

  As Snake Eyes watched his friend stroll off into the darkness, he shook his head. After what happened to Gutter, Lou-loc's mood seemed to change. He wasn't the ambitious young man that the east coast was molding him into. He was the Cali killer that he used to be. One thing was for sure, there would be a lot of black dress buying in Harlem.

  ***

  After Lou-loc left the park, he headed down town and rented a room at the Quarters hotel. When he signed in, he used his real name. The reason for this was so he'd have an alibi as to his whereabouts. After checking in, he slipped out the back and headed home.

  When he got there, he had to pause before going inside the house to gain his composure. The voice in his head was screaming for him to kill Martina and be done with it, but he still had feelings for the girl. That and the fact that he didn't wanna make her kids orphans. As soon as he walked in, Martina started up.

  "Fuck you been?" she snapped. "I been calling your phone and paging you all day. What, you was laid up wit a bitch or something?"

  "I was busy." he said coolly. "Had to do some running around." Martina wanted to continue the argument, but something in his eyes told her to leave it alone.

  Lou-loc got a can of paint from under the kitchen sink and walked into the bedroom. When he entered the bedroom, he collected all of Martina's jewelry and dropped it into his pockets. He looked at the five and a half carrot ring that he never had a chance to give her, and shook his head. Next, he went into their closet and removed all of her furs and leathers.

  After laying Martina's goods on the bed, he removed his razor blade and proceeded to slash all of her dresses. DK, Versace, Pradda, all turned to confetti. He took all of the clothes he could carry from his side of the closet and placed them in a duffel bag with his jewelry and guns. All of his papers were in a brief case, so he had all bases covered. Strolling like he didn't

  have a care in the world, he went into the living room and placed his bags by the door.

  "Where the fuck you going?" Martina asked rolling her neck.

  "You just came in this motherfucker, and now you leaving again?"

  "Don't worry baby," he said kissing her forehead, "I gotta drop some shit off to Gutter, and make a run. I'll be back tomorrow though. But come here for a sec, I gotta surprise for you." he sang.

  At the mention of a surprise, her whole attitude changed.

  Her anger was quickly replaced by greed. On the walk to the bedroom, the only thing that was on her mind was if it was money or jewelry? He didn't come in carrying any bags, so it had to be either or.

  Martina's eyes bulged in disbelief at the sight of her shredded clothes, and her minks scattered on the bed. "What the fu..." was as far as she got.

  Out of nowhere Lou-loc splashed lavender paint all over Martina's belongings. She stood in the center of all the carnage sack-jawed. Lou-loc had laid waste to at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars worth of goods. Her goods, and that wasn't counting the furs and leathers. Before she even realized what was going on, he had grabbed her by her jaws and lifted her off her feet.

  He looked into her tear filled eyes and spoke in a voice that didn't sound like his own. "Bitch, I go all out for you and your crumb crushers, and you try to put shit on me?"

  "Wh... what are you talking about, baby?" she stuttered.

  With his free hand he removed a ruby ring from his pocket.

  Martina's eyes widened in shock. "Look, familiar?" he asked.

  "Where did you get that?" she stammered out.

  "From a dead man, hoe. All this time, and you been creeping with a brim? I should twist yo ma fuckin' brain." He tossed her onto the bed and put his gun to her heart. "Why?"

  "Wait, Lou-loc, let me explain?" she pleaded. "He didn't mean anything to me. You were always gone, and I needed someone."

  "Gone?" he asked in disbelief. "I'm out there on the grind so you can live good, and you tip out on me? I should crush your heart like you did mine."

  "P...please don't kill me?"

  "Nah, I ain't gonna kill you," he said putting his gun back in his belt, "you ain't even worth it. Just answer me one thing. Is that baby even mine?" Her silence was answer enough.

  "I'm gone, Martina," he said walking away, "make due with ya bills the best way you can."

  "Baby, wait." she said grabbing his arm. "I know I fucked up, and I'm sorry, but don't leave me. Let's try again, I know we can make it work. I couldn't live without you. I love you, daddy." Lou-loc shook her off his arm. "Get yo ass off me, bitch.

  Love? You couldn't even spell love, let alone feel it. If I ever see you again, I might put one in you." Lou-loc hurried from the apartment before he started to cry.

  It was hard to say goodbye, but he knew if he stayed, he was likely to kill her and anyone else who might be in the house. It was better this way.

  As Lou-loc was putting his things in the trunk, he heard Martina shouting from the window. "You ain't shit, Lou-loc. You just gonna leave me and ya baby? You fucked up my furs and my clothes, but that ain't enough? Youz a crab ass nigga, but that's a'ight. You gonna regret this shit. Believe me, you gonna regret this."

  A warning bell rang off in Lou-loc's head, but he shrugged it off. He figured she was j
ust hurt and talking out of her ass. He left her broke and bummy. What the fuck could she do to him?

  Lou-loc hopped in his car, and hit the highway to Brooklyn.

  Upstairs, Martina's wheels were already turning. She cursed herself for letting Lou-loc get away. She had already dismissed the idea of calling Mac. If Lou-loc knew about him, then nine times out of ten, Mac was already dead.

  She was angry and hurt. Her meal ticket had finally run out.

  She was going to get her revenge though. She needed a way to fix Lou-loc's ass. Then it hit her like a brick. She dug through the pile of clothes and paint until she found the phone. Within seconds, she had reached the Party she was seeking. "Let me speak to Cisco."

  CHAPTER 15

  Lou-loc parked a few blocks from a bar where his victim was said to be a regular. From the back seat, he retrieved his duffel bag and checked the contents. Inside the bag was an old colt revolver and a small metal box. He opened the box, and was greeted by cold air from the cooling system. Inside the box were six bullets, but these weren't regular bullets.

  The tips were made of a special plastic designed by Wiz, and financed by Lou-loc. Inside the heads of the bullets were a cor-rosive acid. The plastic that kept the acid from spilling out would burst upon impact. Not only would the acid eat away the cas-ing, but it would also eat away at the victim's insides. No sense in making the job easy for forensics.

  Lou-loc placed the gun under his seat and got out of his ride.

  He walked the few blocks to the bar and stepped inside. There were wall to wall people in the place, so Lou-loc had to look around for a while before he spotted him.

  He sat at the bar hunched over a drink, surrounded by a few of his peoples. Even in the dim light his baldhead shined like a beacon. His white tank top stood out against his dark skin like two ends of the color spectrum. To Lou-loc, the man they called

  "Born" didn't look like he was worth the over priced fee he had agreed on with the Al Mukalla chief, but if Anwar was willing to pay, he would gladly take the money.

  When he turned at an angle, Lou-loc could see his iced out medallion swinging form his platinum chain. Lou-loc figured he might as well take that too, after all, he wouldn't need it where he was going. But then again, wouldn't he need all the ice he could carry in hell? Lou-loc chuckled to himself at the little joke, and walked happily out of the bar.

  After retrieving his glock, as well as the supped up colt, Lou-loc stood in a darkened doorway of a closed auto body shop and waited. It would probably be quite a while before his mark came out of the bar, but patience was always one of Lou-loc's strong points. If need be, he would've waited until day break. That's what made him an effective killer.

  ***

  Mean while, on 114th street a group of young men were sitting on a stoop drinking and passing blunts. All of the young men sported red

  head bands. They were Bloods, and this was their turf, so as far as they were concerned, they had nothing to fear. If any of the young men could've seen into the future, they might've stayed in bed.

  The most animate of the group was a tall light skinned cat named 'Scooby.' Scooby considered himself a hard ass. On Rikers Island, he had earned quite a reputation for himself. He was nice with his hands, and lethal with a shank. Scooby ran his crew with an iron fist, and when he spoke, they listened.

  "Fuck them crabs." Scooby said taking a long swig of his 40oz. "Let one of them mafuckas come through here, and it's a wrap. I don't play that shit, dog. I'm the hardest mafuckin' 'Damou' out here."

  "What about them folks uptown?" a dark skinned youth named 'Tick' spoke up. "Gutter and them niggaz?"

  "Fuck them niggaz." Scooby spat. "You see, I know how Gutter get down. He's crazy, and that's just that. I know what to expect from him, so I ain't worried. It's his partner that gives me the creeps."

  "You mean that nigga, Lou-loc?" another youth named Bear added. "Fuck that nigga, he pussy. I seen him on 125th one day while I was wit my bitch. I threw my set up, and he ain't even do shit. Lou-loc soft."

  "That's ya problem," Scooby said, "you take everything for face value. My cousin that live out in Torrence, he gave me the 411 on that nut. That kid is the real fuckin' deal."

  "Yea," a young boy named B.G. added on, "I heard he killed like a hundred niggaz on the west coast. Shit, they say he went at it with a swat team, and won."

  "Those is just stories." Scooby said. "Besides, LC hit Gutter the other day. The way it's looking, his ass is worm food. As it stands, Lou-loc is the only thing between me and controlling Harlem. The nigga might be bout it, but he ain't super man. He bleed like us."

  "You better be careful." Tick said. "You plan on going at Lou-loc, you better be ready to get down for real."

  "What ever," Scooby said handing Tick his beer. "Hold my shit, nigga, while I go take a leak." Scooby stumbled around the corner to try and find a dark spot to pee. Little did he know, the shadow of death was right on his heels.

  Scooby whipped out his joint and began to relieve his blad-der. He thought about the line of bullshit that he had fed his peoples. He wished he really was as confident as he had sounded.

  In all reality, he knew what time it was with Lou-loc. Scooby wasn't a coward, but Lou-loc was somebody who he really didn't want a problem with. Scooby's mind was so jacked up off beer and weed, he didn't even see the figure slithering from under a car behind him.

  The figure when standing fully erect was only about 5'5". Its frame was thin, and haggard. In the proper light, it would've resembled an animated corpse. The only thing protecting it from the elements was a black leather body suit.

  The figure reached into a hidden compartment and produced a cord about the width of a string of dental floss. With the grace of a cat, the figure moved toward Scooby. Before the young gang lord even knew what was going on, the cord was around his neck.

  Before the cord was secure, Scooby grabbed for it. As he did so, fire shot through his hand as his middle and index finger tips were severed. The shards of diamond dust woven into the cord severed both flesh and tendon.

  The more Scooby struggled, the more excited the figure became. The more excited it became, the tighter the noose got.

  Scooby tried to scream for help, but all that came out were muf-fled groans as his life's blood spilled out onto the Harlem street.

  The cord bit deeper into Scooby's neck until it met bone. Even then, the figure applied more pressure, but the bone wouldn't give. In a matter of seconds, Scooby's head was almost severed, and he was dead on his feet.

  After being gone for a while, the others began to worry about Scooby and decided to check on him. All their combined years of street education couldn't prepare them for what they saw when they rounded the corner. Lying on the pavement in a pool of blood was their leader, Scooby. His head hung at a funny angle, and his face still held the mold of a man attempting to scream. The worst part was, Scooby's dick was still hanging out of his pants.

  ***

  Lou-loc sat across from the bar smoking cigarette after cigarette.

  The sun would soon be forcing its way up, bumping away the darkness, and exposing Lou-loc. He considered just making the hit inside, but then pushed the thought from his mind. He didn't know the lay out of the bar well enough to try that. The last thing he wanted was to trap himself.

  As Lou-loc stepped from the doorway to stretch his legs, his mark came staggering out of the bar. He was flanked by two

  rugged looking characters on either side. Lou-loc had counted on them being unarmed because they were coming out of a bar, but all hopes of that quickly vanished when one of the body guards produced a pistol from out of a near by dumpster.

  Lou-loc stuck to the shadows, and crept to the trios left. As he made his way, he removed the bullets from the case and loaded the colt. Foot by foot he got a little closer. It was still dark, and they were dead drunk so they still hadn't noticed Lou-loc. He was close enough to hit his mark, but he only had six bullets in the colt, and he only ha
d he glock for back up. He needed to be closer to make sure the job was done correctly.

  The few yards that separated Lou-loc from his mark were bare. He'd be totally exposed, and should they be lucky enough to get off a shot, he wouldn't have any cover. It was just a chance he'd have to take.

  Just as Lou-loc was about to make a mad dash, luck swung in his favor. A group of drunk white kids came stumbling out of the bar laughing and clowning. They just happened to provide enough cover for Lou-loc to move closer.

  Lou-loc faked drunk slipping into the crowd. He was staggering and joking right along with the other kids, but he never took his eyes off the mark. He took his glock in his left hand and jammed it into his pocket. With his right hand, he let the colt hang down at his side. The mark still had his back turned, so Lou-loc moved in for the kill.

  Just as Lou-loc got close enough to spit on the mark, he turned around and stared him dead in the eye. This is usually the part where the killer says something slick or boast to the mark on how he's going to die, isn't it? Didn't happen that way with this story.

  Lou-loc raised the colt and squeezed off two shots. The first shot hit Born square in the forehead with a crunching sound. The second, hit him in the eye and embedded itself in the back of his skull.

  The body guards stood there in shock as the acid did its work. Born lay on the ground with blood coming out of his eyes and ears, twitching and convulsing while his blood soaked companions look on in horror. Lou-loc used their hesitation to his advantage.

  Firing through his jacket, the glock boomed to life. The first bullet caught the first body guard in the throat. He tried to cry out, but it sounded more like he was gargling. Lou-loc turned to the second body guard and tore into him with the colt. The single slug tore the left side of his face off.

  Lou-loc stood over Born's still twitching body, and put the two remaining colt bullets into his heart. The kid had never did anything to Lou-loc, so there was no reason for him to suffer. It was only business.