by Chynna
Venting complete, Doon stalked off to finish the job.
Mitch looked as his watch one more time. He was on a time constraint of his own, but the way shit was going, he would have to scale back his own plans. Mitch walked into the shop office and locked the door behind him. He pulled the string on the white metal vertical blinds that hung over the large front window of the shop.
Mitch pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. No answer.
“Fuck!” he huffed and began pacing. His plans were being derailed and the price would be very heavy. “One more try,” he spoke under his breath to himself. Mitch hit the call button again. When the line picked up, Mitch let out a long breath and relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
“Blacka, it’s Mitch. That thing gotta be put on hold man. This shit is going way over and I know you had them soldiers ready for me, but the timing ain’t gon’ be right for this one. We’ll catch up on the next one,” Mitch hurriedly conveyed the message.
He patiently allowed for the tongue lashing he received. Mitch closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
“Nah, you can trust me Blacka. This one just didn’t pan out. Let’s try one more time with something that’s gonna be a sure bet. Plus, it ain’t gonna shake her up if she ain’t even here,” Mitch said calmly.
Mitch exhaled a windstorm of breath. He wasn’t going to tolerate too many more “bumbaclots” and “pussyholes.”
“A’ight, give me two days. I’ll let you know about the next go round,” Mitch said before quickly hanging up.
A knock sounded at the door causing him to startle.
“Yo?!” Mitch hollered bopping over to the door.
“Locking doors, now?” Doon asked, stealthily scanning the office with his eyes.
“Are you questioning me now?” Mitch snapped right back. The entire crew had been suspicious of one another since the Scrap revelation.
“This shit was a rush job, but everything is set to roll out. Two to the Bx and one to Spanish Harlem just like always,” Doon informed Mitch.
“Yeah, that’s the flow as usual. You ride with the two. Marco gonna meet the one. Once all the collections have been made we’ll meet up and make the split at the Bridge,” Mitch instructed.
“And you?” Doon asked, tapping his foot like a mother waiting for an answer from a disobedient child.
“Me what? I’m goin’ the fuck home,” Mitch snarled. He had too much on his mind to worry about dudes who complained like bitches.
Doon walked out of the office, Mitch following on his heels. They did a quick walk-through of the shop and made sure both trucks were ready for departure.
Mitch approached the driver’s side window of the first truck. He nodded at the driver and tossed a rubber-banded stack of cash at the man.
“Get this shit there or else,” Mitch warned. It was the same shit Jesse had said each time he sent a man out for delivery. Jesse joked with Mitch that it was a good luck send off. “Scare a motherfucker before you send him and he’ll bring you back what you need.”
Mitch walked over and climbed into his car. The shop’s metal gates began to roll up. Both trucks were idling as they waited for him.
Mitch reversed his car out of the driveway and waited for Doon to do the same. As the first truck made its way out of the garage, tires squealed nearby. Mitch jerked as he heard the rapid fire chattering of bullets ripping through the air. Mitch felt trapped as the “tat tat tat” of gunfire hit the exterior shell and glass windows of the shop.
Mitch threw his car in reverse and slammed on the accelerator. His car sped backwards away from the gunfire. He looked up just in time to see an army of men in black rushing towards the shop. Doon’s car was still inside.
Mitch hurriedly swiveled his car around and drove away from the danger. His chest felt like it was going to cave in. Mitch couldn’t think straight; his hands shook so badly he could hardly drive. After several failed attempts, he managed to hit the Bluetooth function in his car.
“Call Billy!” Mitch screamed at the machine.
“Yo,” Billy answered, his voice groggy with sleep.
“Yo!” Mitch wolfed, unable to even find the words.
“Who this?” Billy replied, his tone an octave higher than before.
“M…Mi…Mitch man! Yo, somebody just hit up the shop. I think they got Doon man,” Mitch stumbled for the right words
“What? What the fuck?” Billy cussed, on his feet within seconds. “Who? Who was it? Is he dead? Did they grab him? What about the shipments?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know! All I saw was a black truck pull up on and a flood of dudes in black with AKs and MPs sparkin’ off straight for the trucks. Doon pulled his whip up and was right there. We are under fuckin’ attack, man! Meet me at the Bridge. This shit is bad. I really think it was Millenia! Scrap tried to fuckin’ warn us,” Mitch spat angrily. His crew was dropping off like flies. Shit was going downhill fast. This game was about to be over.
************************
“I want somebody from Millenia dead tonight!” Summer barked as she paced across the meeting room at the Bridge. Her hair was disheveled and bags hung beneath her eyes.
Mitch sat with his eyes closed and his hands steepled in front of him. Billy had both of his burners on the table, barely able to control his breathing. Marco held his head in his hands; feeling lucky to have made it out alive. What happened to Doon could’ve just as well happened to him.
“You sure you wanna make such a big decision? Pedro Millenia is nothin’ to fuck with. A war between Mexican cartels would leave us all open to the Jamaicans and the Columbians. Millenia is a big dog,” one of the guys called out from the back of the room.
Summer sucked in her breath and shot him a cold stare. She was always sensitive when people questioned her executive decisions.
“It was them! We don’t have beef with nobody else for no other reason. They left the fuckin’ shipment for the narcos to find. If it was just a robbery, you think that would be the case?” Summer boomed, her face flushing hot pink. A wave of groans rose and fell around the room. Summer was convinced that if she was a man, the troops would be ready to run into battle rather than questioning her every move.
Whoever shot up the Sentinel hadn’t taken any of the drugs, just killed all three drivers, and all five guards. Doon apparently had gone missing, but his car was found inside with a spray of bullet holes on its side.
By now, the Sentinel was surely crawling with police and narcs. She would probably have to deal with the cops and feds since all of Jesse’s businesses were currently under her management. She’d also have to deal with Cardinale now that the heat was literally crawling up her ass.
“I don’t care how ya’ll do it. I don’t care who you gotta speak to. I want somebody that is key to Pedro Millenia hit tonight! I need to know by tomorrow that Doon didn’t go out like that for nothing,” Summer announced. “Go!”
The men filed out of the room except for Billy, Marco and Mitch.
“You all right?” Summer asked Mitch, her tone a bit softer. He looked like he had aged ten years overnight.
“I almost got my fuckin’ head blown off and one of our own is missing…probably dead somewhere. Nah, I’m not all right. Life as we know it ain’t never gon’ be the same. If you didn’t know it before, you damn sure know it now. Summer, this is a fuckin’ declaration of war.”
“Change happens every day. My fucking husband is dead and I was forced into this business. Now I’m responsible for my own crew members dying. If it’s war they want, it’s war they will get,” she shot back. Even she wasn’t sure how she was really going to handle Pedro Millenia, but she wasn’t about to let the men in that room know that.
“Yeah, exactly. But we need to be smarter than them this time,” Mitch grumbled, pushing his chair back, putting a new dent in the wall. He stormed out, leaving Marco, Billy, and Summer behind. Her empire was shrinking quickly. She needed to find more trus
ted knights to protect her castle before it was overrun by her many enemies.
****************************
Doon’s naked body shivered. His ass throbbed from sitting on whatever icy, cold surface they had him on. His wrists and ankles were bound together. He managed to pull his knees up to his chest to generate some kind of heat from his thighs. Somewhere in the distance he could hear water dripping. A slow steady, plop plop plop. It was starting to make him go crazy.
Doon could hear voices speaking in Spanish. He lifted his head from his knees, wincing because his neck was stiff. Footsteps approached and his heart began to race.
“Hello?” Doon rasped. Something about the conditions of the room was getting to his head. He could swear he heard Jesse’s voice too.
“JB’s boy, eh?” a lanky Hispanic man said, standing in front of Doon.
“Whatever you want, my crew will give it up,” Doon rambled through bluish-purple lips. He could barely speak through his chattering teeth.
“What I want is in your head. No one can pay for that.” Doon knew right away what that meant—the man wanted him to give up the inside goods about his crew.
“So tell me—the new lady boss—you like her?” the man asked. Doon didn’t answer; instead he hung his head.
“You won’t speak? Do you know who sent me?” the man asked. Doon kept his head bowed. “Get him up!”
Three men moved in on Doon like zookeepers attempting to tame a wild animal. Doon grunted as they forced his stiff, frozen body off the floor. His skin was sensitive to the touch, almost frostbitten. With a man flanking him on each side, Doon was held upright. The freezing cold air in the room stung his entire body. His legs dropped from the bent position, leaving his chest and genitals exposed to the frigid conditions.
“Now, I know you feel very cold. Let’s change that,” the man said. He pulled out a double spouted blowtorch and turned the feeder knob. Wooosh. A blast of fire burst from the end. Doon’s eyes flew open, frozen puffs of breath escaping his lips.
“Nooooooooooo!” he screeched at the top of his lungs as the flame drew closer. The man let out a maniacal laugh as he turned the torch off.
“So, back to my questions. Your new female boss, do you like her? I want to know some things about her,” the man asked again. Doon did not respond. He closed his eyes and started praying silently.
The man cursed in Spanish. Doon could hear the torch being sparked up again. His body tensed. The men lifted him up a little higher so that his chest was almost eye level with the torch.
“You could save yourself—this is your last chance,” the man hissed. Doon didn’t respond.
The man squinted his eyes and moved closer to Doon. He sprayed the torch flame up and down the frozen skin on Doon’s chest. The sound Doon released from his mouth was unearthly. His body bucked wildly. The man moved the flame from Doon’s chest and large blisters immediately popped up on his seared skin.
“Pedro Millenia. Have you heard of him, no?” the man continued with the questions.
Doon’s head hung and saliva dripped out of his mouth. His body vibrated with unleashed pain. Was it possible to feel both hot and cold at the same time?
“Answer me or I’ll be forced to turn this thing back on,” the man warned. “I know you know who my boss is, correct?”
Doon moved his head in the affirmative. The effort caused his entire body to burn with pain.
“Good. Good. Pedro Millenia wants to know about your boss,” the man continued.
Doon shook his head from side to side, but didn’t utter a word.
“Turn him!” the man shouted in disgust.
The men holding Doon shifted him so that the skin on his back was exposed to the interrogator.
“You will tell me what I need to know.” The torch spit fire onto Doon’s back, buttocks and thighs. Doon heard his skin sizzling like meat in a frying pan.
“When you have frostbite it is always wise to stay away from heat for a while. If not, the skin dies and has to be cut off. First we freeze you, then we burn you,” the man snarled.
“Okay! Okay! Please…stop.” Doon pleaded with his captors, no longer able to withstand the torture.
The man removed the torch from Doon’s skin and the other two men turned Doon around.
“You will tell me all I need to know or you will die a very painful death? Do we understand each other, now?”
Doon moved his head. His lips trembled as he uttered the one word that would end his current state of misery.
“Yes.”
Chapter 14 Loyalty Has No Price
In breaking news, a man and his two young children died today in a hail of gunfire outside All Saints Catholic School on the lower east side of Manhattan. Police say the man and his two children, a boy aged six and a girl aged eleven, were getting into a heavily tinted SUV when shots were fired. The victims are believed to be the eldest son and grandchildren of alleged Mexican cartel head, Pedro Millenia. The investigation into the deaths is still ongoing.
Summer smirked as she lowered the volume on the television. When the foot soldiers asked if they should carry out the hit with the children present, Summer gave them the green light without hesitation. Just like Pedro, Summer wanted to send a message by shooting up the Sentinel and Doon—woman or not, she was not to be fucked with.
“Awww man! You killed it with that dunk!” she heard Billy shout.
Jesse, Jr. giggled uncontrollably. Summer smiled as she pushed open the door.
“Can I watch?” She asked sweetly.
“C’mon boss, lady. Watch me shake and dribble on this lil sucka,” Billy said playfully. Jesse, Jr.’s little fingers moved wildly over the PlayStation 3 joystick. Summer inhaled deeply and exhaled. They were still getting used to each other. Thank God for Billy or else things may have been extremely difficult. Summer needed to find a nanny for Jesse Jr., but in the meantime it appeared as if Billy was quite a good substitute.
The doorbell sounded. Billy stopped clicking his joystick and looked at Summer strangely.
“You expecting anyone?” Billy asked.
“No, I haven’t heard from Mitch and Marco is out there trying to calm everyone down about their delivery,” Summer frowned.
“Stay here with lil man, let me go see who’s at the door,” Billy instructed.
“Stay here JJ,” Summer said, pulling the bedroom door behind her. She followed Billy into the hallway as the bell sounded again. From the top of the stairs, she watched Billy draw his gun as he approached the door. He peeped out of the glass side panels.
“It’s just FedEx!” Billy called up to her. “You expecting a package?”
“No,” Summer said, rushing down the stairs as Billy opened the door and retrieved the package. “I’m not expecting anything.”
“It’s addressed to you. You want me to open it?” Billy asked, his eyebrows raised.
“I don’t know…that shit could be a bomb,” Summer answered tentatively.
Billy gave the box a quick shake.
“This shit mad light. I’ma open it,” he said mindlessly. He used a pocket knife and striped the sticky backing. Summer held her breath while he peered inside.
“Looks like some kind of paper in here…not a bomb,” Billy reported. He turned the box over and slid the contents onto the small glass table near the door.
“What the fuck? Holy shit!” Billy exclaimed.
Summer clasped both of her hands over her mouth.
“It’s a fuckin’ human tongue!” Billy yelled, stepping backwards. Summer blinked as she stared down at the swollen piece of rotting flesh.
“It’s Doon’s tongue. He told them everything. He told them where I live, where we meet, where we work. He told them everything. We have to get out of here, Billy,” Summer said numbly. Her feet were suddenly rooted to the expensive hardwood floors. Summer knew Jesse had a few properties left, but figured whoever sent the package knew about those places too.
“Uncle Billy, come back an
d play with me,” Jesse, Jr. called out from the top of the steps. It was his little voice that finally spurred them into action.
“C’mon lil man, we have to go out,” Billy huffed, rushing towards the steps.
Summer’s cell phone vibrated. She looked at the screen ready to hit the ignore button.
“Fuck! Not right now!” she huffed, but she knew she needed to take the call.
She answered, her voice shaky. She felt like her head would explode. Things were happening way too fast. Thank God she had Billy by her side. Billy had taught her that loyalty has no price. It was a lesson she would never forget.
******************
Summer rushed through the doors of the Living Spaces nursing home in downtown Manhattan. The facility was one of the best in the city. She knew it had to be, given the amount of money she paid on a monthly basis.
Worry creased Summer’s brow and her mouth was dry as the Sahara. She told Billy to wait in the car with Jesse, Jr. There was a private matter she had to take care of. Anything involving her real family was private.
“Good morning. I’m here about Elva Calvo,” Summer huffed at the young nursing attendant sitting at the circular reception desk in the lobby. The girl softened her expression, but something about her eyes made Summer’s heart jerk in her chest. She saw sadness in them.
“Someone is coming down to escort you to Ms. Calvo’s suite,” the nurse attendant said.
“Why do I need to wait? I’ve never had to wait before.”
“Mrs. Calvo has been moved to another wing and you need an escort to access the area. I can’t tell you much more than that,” the girl explained. Summer eased off, trying to keep her temper under control. Since becoming boss, Summer had become increasingly impatient and demanding. When she wanted something done, she wanted it done right away. Unfortunately, that approach would not work in this instance.