The Mike Black Saga Book One
Page 6
“What’s the difference; y’all gonna kill me anyway!” Banks shouted.
“No. If Black can’t prove that you’re sellin’ drugs, you can walk out of here with my humble apology,” Bobby explained.
“No,” Black said. “The difference is that I’m givin’ you a chance to man up and admit that you betrayed everybody in this room. Does that sound fair to you?” Black asked sarcastically.
Banks didn’t answer.
“Nick.”
I stepped up to Banks and tore the shelve off his shirt. I held the eyedropper over his arm. I squeezed the dropper once and one drop hit his arm.
Banks screamed in pain.
“Does that sound fair to you?” Black asked again.
“Yes, shit, yes!” Banks yelled.
“Nick.” I hit the other arm this time. Banks screamed again. There was no sound in the room. No one said a word, nobody moved. They all stood and watched as me and Freeze took turns beatin’ Banks and then burnin’ him with acid.
“Admit what you did, Banks, so we can all go home,” Bobby said.
“I didn’t do nothing, Bobby, I swear.”
“Freeze,” Black said, and Freeze happily resumed his brutal beating.
After what seemed to be a long time, Black stepped up to Banks, “Are you ready to man up, Banks?”
“I keep telling you, Black! I didn’t do shit!” Banks protested.
“Doc,” Black said.
“Yes, Black,” Doc said, with a very scared look on his face. Doc ran the gambling in the house and was probably thinking that he would suffer the same fate as Banks.
“I want you to go behind the bar and reach your hand behind the bottle setup next to the cash box. Let me know what you find.”
Doc walked very slowly to the bar and did what he was told. He reached behind the setup. “There’s another cash box back here.”
“Pull it out and open it,” Black demanded. “Tell us all what you find.”
Doc opened the box, “Drugs and money, Black.”
“That shit ain’t mine, Black,” Banks screamed. “I swear on my mamas grave, I don’t know nothing about that! You planted it there.”
“Doc, has anybody other than the bartender been behind the bar tonight or any night for that matter?”
“No,” Doc said.
“How do you know that?” Black asked, knowing the answer.
“It’s a house rule,” Cynt said. “Nobody goes behind the bar but the bartender. How stupid can you be, Banks? Bad enough you’re dealin’, but why you gotta do it in the house. It ain’t gonna do nothin’ but bring the cops down on all of us. Fuckin’ fool. You deserve to die.”
“Thank you, Cynt,” Black said. “I’m glad I didn’t have to be the one to say it.”
“Fuck you, Cynt!” Banks yelled.
“Fuck you, Banks. Stupid mutha fucka,” Cynt responded as she stepped up and slapped Banks in the face.
“Black, you gotta believe me. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that shit. It must be Earl’s dope.”
“Jamaica,” Black said.
We all looked around and there stood Jamaica with Earl. He too had been beaten badly. “You know I was selling that shit for you, Banks! You said we could make that paper and Black would never know it, “ Earl said.
“Any questions?” Black asked as he looked around the room.
Again, no one said a word.
“Tie him up next to his friend,” Black said to Jamaica. When he finished, Jamaica moved away and Bobby handed me and Freeze each a 9.
“Gary Banks, a jury of your peers has found you guilty of treason. The sentence is death.”
Bobby walked behind the chairs and placed a black hood over their heads and moved out of the way.
Black looked at me and Freeze, “Fire.”
We both emptied a clip in them.
When it over, I drove Black home. I asked him, “How’d you know Banks started dealin’ again?”
Black just looked at me like I was stupid or something. “I know everything that goes on in my organization. Remember that. Never get to far removed from anything you’re in charge of, Nick.”
Chapter Nine
Even though we still sorta worked for André, who was one of the biggest drug dealers around those days, Black absolutely forbid any of us to have any direct involvement with drugs. Black made his money highjacking trucks, robbing warehouses and payrolls. We all made crazy money, but me and Freeze wanted to, needed to, make some money on our own.
“So what we gonna do, Nick? We can’t roll, so how we gonna get paid?” Freeze asked.
We kicked around a bunch of stuff, but everything we thought of, either wasn’t worth the risk or wasn’t enough paper to make it worth the effort. It all came back around to the fact that fast, easy money was spelled D-R-U-G-S. Then it came to me. “Look, who’s making the money?”
“Dope boyz,” Freeze replied.
“Right, so why can’t we get that money?”
“‘Cause Black will kill us if we started rollin’, that’s why. And don’t you say that he’ll never find out. That mutha fucka is psychic about that shit. You ain’t forget what we did to Banks when Black found out he was dealin’?
“No, I ain’t forgot. But who said anything about us dealin’?”
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t. I said why can’t we get that money. There’s a difference. You interested?”
“I’m listening.”
“Dope boyz rollin’ around everyday with stupid cash on them. I’m talkin’ about rollin’ up on them, and robbin’ them niggas while they laid back.”
“You talkin’ about rollin’ up on a bunch of heavily armed mutha fuckas while they do business? That ain’t no plan, that’s suicide.”
“You ain’t scared are you, Freeze?”
“Hell no!”
“I didn’t think so. But I ain’t talkin’ about hittin’ them while they doin’ business, that would be suicide. I’m talkin’ about catchin’ them comin’ out their cars. They get out the car. Bam, we hit them quick and bam we out.”
“That could work. I mean we know who they are. I don’t like most of them niggas anyway. And as long as we don’t take their dope, Black won’t have shit to say.”
So it was set.
Me and Freeze became stick up kids. We’d hit two or three a night some times. And the money was good, three, four, five grand a pop for a minutes work. Most times we never had to fire a shot. But after awhile, word got around and things started to dry up. The money was less and the security was more. But we were addicted to that cash. So the plan changed. We started robbin’ them while they were selling quantity. Things were going good; it was easier than we thought. Except this one time. We over heard a guy, used to call himself Forty-eight, who had a real high, squeaky kinda voice, talkin’ about he had some white guys on the hook and he was gonna retire on the money he was gonna make.
“You mean we gonna take.” Freeze said to me, making fun of the way Forty-eight talked.
We sat and watched as the players went into a motel room on Boston Road. Once the deal was in progress, we busted in.
“Nobody move! Nobody gets hurt!” Freeze shouted.
I looked at the guy carrying the briefcase with the money. Forty-eight and his boy raised their hands and backed away from the dope. But the two white guys with the money started beefin’. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk out that door quietly.” And then he made a play for his gun. Freeze wheeled around, “Shut up, white bread!” and caught him in the mouth with the pump. “You’re speaking out of turn.”
I covered with the semi while Freeze grabbed the case and we backed out of the room. It wasn’t long after we got out of the room before somebody started blastin’. I fired back while Freeze headed for the car. The firefight continued until we were in the car and away.
We both looked at each other and started laughin’. “That was gettin’ kinda hectic.” Freeze said as he drove away. “Must be a lotta money
in that case for them to have backup outside.”
“I think this is the biggest score we ever had,” I said, as I opened the case. “Maybe we can retire.” Making fun of Forty-eight. We were both laughing so hard that neither of us noticed the black Ford that pulled up along side of us. Until they started blastin’. With the first shot, they busted out the back window on the passenger side. “Where the fuck did they come from!”
“I don’t know!” Freeze yelled as he floored it. He sped away down Boston Road with the Ford on our tail.
“Get us out of here, Freeze!”
“What you think I’m doin’, writin’ a love song?” Freeze turned sharply against traffic, but they stayed right with us. He turned on 222nd and then back onto Boston Road. “You see them?” Freeze demanded to know.
“No, I think you lost them.”
“Damn right, I did! I told you I’d lose them!” That was when the back window got shot out.
“Shit!”
Freeze turned on Eastchester Road and kept going until he hit Laconia Ave. “I thought we lost them?”
“You did. These are different guys.”
“What do you mean, different guys?”
“That it’s not the same guys. It’s a different car. Blue Chevy, coming up on your right.” I began firing through the now opened back window. Trying to get them off us. But they kept coming. “Turn here! Try to lose them in the projects!”
Freeze turned on 229th street and drove thru Edenwald Projects. “Damn! These guys are good.” But he couldn’t shake them. We came out of the projects and back onto Laconia, up 219th and onto Bronxwood Ave.
“Who the fuck are they?” I asked.
“I don’t know. How the fuck should I know?”
“You just lose them.” A car pulled out in front of us and we crashed into a parked car. I grabbed the case and we got out blastin’. “This way!”
“I ain’t goin’ down there, there’s dogs down there!”
“Shoot them! Lets go!” I yelled as I started running down the alley.
“Look out!” Freeze yelled. I turned quickly, in time to see that two more guys were shooting at us. I caught one in the shoulder. “Ahhh! Shit!” If I hadn’t turned when Freeze yelled it would have hit me in the chest.
“You hit?”
“Yeah, in the shoulder! I’m all right, keep goin’!”
I could hear the dogs barking in front of us and the guys firing behind us. I started firing in both directions. The barking stopped and the dogs ran in the opposite direction. But the guys kept coming. Freeze ran toward the building and shot the lock off. We ran through the building and out the front door. A car came down the street. Freeze stood in the middle of the street with his gun drawn.
The car stopped in front of him.
“Get out!”
Both doors swung open and the people ran away from the car.
The guys came out the door and opened fire on us again. This time it was Freeze who got hit. He went down.
“Freeze!”
I ran toward him, shooting that semi-auto wildly in their direction.
They took cover.
I kept shootin’.
I pulled Freeze up and pushed him in the car, got in and drove away.
I looked over at Freeze. “Where you hit?”
“In the gut! Shit that hurts. They got me in the leg too.”
“Who the fuck are they?”
“How many times you gonna ask me that shit? I told you I don’t know.”
“They still on us?”
Freeze struggled to turn around; he was bleeding pretty bad. “I don’t see anybody.”
I drove around for awhile to make sure we’d really lost them, who ever they were, this time. Then drove as fast as I could to Perry’s house. Freeze had passed out at some point, so I had to carry him. He was in pretty bad shape. Perry said if it had been any longer he’d be dead. He took care of our wounds and I made him promise not to tell Black, but he found out anyway.
It was about that time that I met Camille. She had me, and I couldn’t leave her alone. I knew when I met her that she was with Bobby, but it didn’t seem to matter to me. It definitely didn’t matter to her.
I had never met any woman like Camille. She was fascinating to be around and to talk to. And her voice, the way she spoke with that Barbados accent, Shit! It simply blew me away. Her dark complexion, her flawless body, and those dark eyes. The way she’d look at me when we’d make love. For too long after that, when I’d close my eyes, I’d see those eyes looking up at me.
It began the first time I saw her. I was with Black in his office at The Late Night when she came in with Bobby. Camille walked right up to me. “Bobby, introduce me to this handsome specimen of a man.”
Bobby’s eyes narrowed when he looked at her. “That’s, Nick.”
That look was my first warning, but I ignored it and each warning that would follow. Camille stepped closer, put her left hand on my chest and looked up at me. “That’s no way to introduce somebody, Bobby. My name is Camille Augustus. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and what is your name?”
“Nick Simmons.” I answered, and quickly backed up off her. But she had me then and she knew it. Each time I saw her after that, Camille made that point clear.
When she’d call me I’d come.
What she wanted, I got for her.
What she said, I did, without so much as a kiss.
I was riding with Black the night Camille decided she would have me. She paged me at 2:45 in the morning and I quickly called her back.
“Come see me. I want to talk. We never have enough time to sit and have a chat.”
“Now?”
“Of course, now. Now is when I want you.” Camille hung up the phone and I turned to Black.
“Booty call,” he said.
“No, just a chat.”
“Yeah, right. Nobody calls at damn near three in the morning to just talk. Talk about fuckin’ maybe.”
I don’t know if he knew where he was dropping me off and at the time, I didn’t care. I knocked on her door, but there was no answer. Maybe I had taken too long and she had fallen asleep. I waited awhile and knocked again. She opened the door dressed in a red gown and robe, which left nothing to the imagination.
“Come in, Nick. I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming.”
We talked and laughed until the sun was shinning brightly the next morning. I admired her beauty, the way her dark skin over powered the red of her gown. Camille commanded my attention in more ways than one. Then she touched my hand and drew me to her. I ran my hand across her shoulder.
“Kiss me, Camille.”
She patted my hand and stood up.
“Stand up, Nick.” I complied. Camille looked up at me and undressed me without breaking eye contact. I stood naked before her and she ran one hand across my chest while the other glided effortlessly along my length. She gently grabbed the back of my neck and drew our lips together, but only for a second. Camille eased me back down on the couch and ran her tongue over her lips. Then Camille introduced my length to her moistened lips. Her eyes still locked in mine. She slid her lips across what seemed to be every inch of it. Then she smiled and opened her mouth. It was soft and wet; if she had teeth I never knew it. She moved her head up and down in a very slow almost methodical motion. My excitement only intensified as I watched her, watching me. It was like slow motion, prolonging each stroke.
Chapter Ten
Mike Black
It was about that time that I found out why André wanted me to kill Chicago. I didn’t find that out until a woman shot Chicago six years after I was gonna kill him. One of the old heads says to me, “Well I guess now Chicago will stop fuckin’ Andrés wife.”
André just tried to use me `cause he was too weak to handle his own business. I thought that he was weak for not handling his own business. After that, a lot of things happened to confirm it. Then one day he took me Bobby, Nick and Jamaica with
him to a meeting on City Island with Frankie the Favorite.
André had us wait outside. Whatever happened in there happened, and Frankie’s boys came out shootin’. Now, Bobby has a sixth sense for things like that and he sees them coming. He shot the first two, and me, Nick, and Jamaica picked the rest of them off one by one as they came out the door. We go inside and there’s André, on his knees, gun to his head, begging for his life. So I shot Frankie.
A couple of days after that, Angee comes to my office at the Late Night. “Come ride with me, Mikey.”
I wasn’t worried. Me and Angee go too far back. And besides, if he was gonna kill me he wouldn’t have come alone. So while we’re ridin’ he starts talkin’ about the old days. As we pull up in front of Carmine’s, Angee turned to me. “I always liked you, Mikey. That’s why I saved your life.”
We go in to see Carmine and Angee talked to him for a second then he looked at me. “Tell Carmine what happened that day.”
After I told my story Carmine got up and walked over to me. He patted me on the shoulder. “Why’s you shot Frankie?”
“With all due respect, do you remember when you were a soldier? If you were in my place, what would you have done?”
Carmine didn’t say anything at first, then he thanked me for coming, and Angee showed me out.
When we get outside, Angee told me that André told a different story. He told Carmine that when I got inside he had taken the gun from Frankie. And that Frankie was on his knees and unarmed when I shot him.
The mutha fucka was tryin’ to save his own ass. But the way I saw it, he was trying to kill me. That’s when I decided to killed him and everybody else I thought might come after us.
So I waited. For more than a year after the thing with Frankie. I waited. Watched him. I planned it. I knew that there were enough people who hated André to go around. Cops wouldn’t care, and as long as business didn’t suffer no one else would either. When I was ready, I called a meeting at The Late Night.
“Now that we’re all here,” I said, as soon as Nick and Freeze came through the door. “I bet you all are wondering why I got you all over here.”
“The thought had occurred to me,” Bobby said, staring at me.