Cigar Bar

by Dion Perkins

  The blood gushing from his neck did it for Sasha. She rode his still-hard member, smearing the blood onto her breasts. She came harder and harder while the man choked and bled out. Sasha collapsed next to the man’s still-bleeding body. She pulled a blunt from her bra, stuck the bloody razor back in it, lit the blunt, kissed his lips, and said, “Thanks for the ride, but I gotta get out of here!”

  After she showered, she checked the room for cameras. She found a video recorder in the closet. “Chico, you almost got me,” she said, removing the video camera from the closet and walking out of room, leaving him there on the floor.

  The whole act, from nut to shower, took her only 15 minutes. She was back downstairs at the bar, sipping her drink, when Spazo and Ghetto came back down.

  Spazo looked at Sasha. She seemed to be a bit too happy. “What the fuck did you do?” he asked suspiciously.

  Sasha responded, “I caught it all on video. I’ll show you guys later,” she added, sipping on her drink.

  “Damn, Spazo said. what about the moves we were gonna make down here?” Spazo asked Ghetto.

  “Nah, fam, we canceling all that. I say we just go to this fuckin’ club, handle this business, and head back to Harlem. We’ll look for new territory somewhere else.”

  “Cool,” Spazo said. “I’m too damn far from home anyway.”

  Tony

  Tony and Becky were the only two people who knew the band on stage playing the smooth jazz were all ATF agents. Tony was surprised by how well they played. They played George Benson’s “Broadway” so well that the barmaids and patrons started dancing,

  “Wow!” Tony said to Becky. “They’re fuckin’ great! You can’t get a better cover than that!” Everybody acted as if it was a regular night.

  The judge walked over to Tony. “So, Mr. Santoro, have you thought about my proposal?”

  “Proposal? Don’t you mean strong-arm?”

  The judge smiled as he picked up a handful of nuts and tossed them in his mouth. “Ha-ha, you’re funny. You can call it whatever you want. I’m just gonna call it the judge’s chambers,” he said, spreading his hands, motioning as though he were showing someone his billboard. “That does have a nice ring to it, don’t it, Tony?” he asked, and turned to toward the door. “Oh, by the way, I’m going to have my friend, the senator, with me next week, so I expect more than VIP treatment. Treat me like this place were already mine.” He walked out the door.

  Tony smiled. If only he knew what was waiting for him next week, he wouldn’t be so happy.

  Bernie walked over to Tony. “So, that’s your boy, huh?”

  “Yeah, my boy,” Tony said. “I just found out the senator will be with him next week, and I can guarantee he’s gonna be there; so will the special prosecutor.”

  “Good,” Bernie said, “we’ll take them all down after the show. I mean, they’re going to be going away for a long-ass time. The least we could do is send them away with a bang.” They laughed as the waitress brought over their drinks.

  “So, I have to say, Tony, this place is pretty fucking awesome, man. You ready to give this shit up?”

  “No, not really, but what choice do I have? Once all this shit hits the papers, I’m gonna be shut down anyway, so Becky and I are going on a long vacation. And when I say ‘long,’ I mean we’re never coming back.”

  “Really? Well, where are you gonna be, in case I wanna come visit?”

  “Nah, that’s okay. You stay over here; we’ll be fine. We don’t need any visitors.” The two erupted in laughter. Becky smiled and got up, ready to make the introduction to the crowd.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Joe’s. We have an excellent show for you tonight. Joining us is a special guest band that will be playing here all week, leading up to our showcase next week, which includes The Whispers and Frankie Beverly and Maze. We hope to see you all next week. And, please, tell all your friends to come in too. Until then, please give it up for Gotcha!” Applause erupted throughout the jazz club as the band played, “Back At Cha” by Eric Darius.

  After the show that night, Bernie went through the whole plan with Tony. He let him know that there was a truck of agents waiting outside for the go-ahead to come in and take down the judge and his buddies. “Well, okay. I understand everything,” Tony replied.

  “Good. And listen, Tony. Because of this tape, you won’t even have to come testify. The judge’s ship has sunk all of them, so whatever you do, get out of America. The people you’re about to take down have ties to the White House, and they will stop at nothing to silence you. So, bon voyage, my friend. And remember: Don’t come back.” The men toasted to the upcoming events and called it a night.

  The Concert

  Joe’s was packed. Everybody was in the house, even a few celebrities. Spazo, Sasha, and Ghetto had a table up front, along with Mr. Y, his nephew, and one soldier. They were all dressed to the tee; and, of course, strapped. The only ones sitting closer than they were the judge, the senator, and his nephew, for whom the judge had set free due to lack of evidence. Several members of the East Side Boys were scattered throughout the place.

  Don Veto walked in with Paulie and Sal. They scanned the room and decided to play the back. A waitress came and asked them if they reserved a table. Don Veto looked at her and said, “No, but I’m sure you can find something for me.” He handed the girl a hundred dollars, and she escorts the party to their table.

  Tony didn’t attend the party because he was too busy upstairs getting ready to leave for good. He figured he’d make an entrance when the bands came onstage. Then again, he might just watch the activities from his office.

  Paulie separated from the don. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He looked around for Tony but couldn’t find him anywhere. He was bold enough to peek into the kitchen and even contemplated walking behind the counter to find him. He was stopped by a waitress just as he approached the counter.

  “What can I get you, sir?” she asked, placing a napkin in front of him.

  “Yeah, uh, give me a Heineken,” said Paulie.

  “Do you want a glass?” she asked.

  “No.”

  She opened the bottle and served him. Paulie gave her a twenty and said, “Keep it!” He posted up at the other end of the bar. He looked down at Don Veto and shook his head as if to say, “I don’t see him.” Don Veto sat at the table with Sal, and his guard was behind him.

  The judge and the senator were having a blast. “Where the hell is Flaco?” The judge muttered to himself. “I need those girls for my men.” He checked his watch frequently.

  The judge decided to give Flaco a call, but needed to go outside to make it. On his way out, he bumped into two agents coming in. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” he said to Agent Jacobson.

  Jacobson smiled and said, “My apologies,” then stepped to the side. He looked at his partner and smiled. Even though they couldn’t find their man, they decided to go by the party to see if he would show up, and they ran into their man the judge.

  “Dumbass motherfucker!” the judge stated loudly as he walked past.

  The agents took seats next to the door so that they could keep an eye on him.

  The judge called Flaco and left him a message: “Listen, you little motherfucker! I paid your ass for some fuckin’ bitches, and you got me sittin’ in here lookin’ like a damn fool! If you don’t have your ass down here in ten minutes, the next time I see you, you’re gonna be diggin’ your own fuckin’ grave, motherfucker!” He hung up, put a smile back on his face, and rejoined his party.

  “He seems pissed,” the agent said.

  “I think for the same reason we are.”

  “Where the fuck is that little motherfucker?” Jacobson asked.

  “He better not try and fuck us over,”

  Becky entered the stage. She looked like a million dollars.
r />   “Holy shit, look at this here,” Jacobson said.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. How’s everyone doing tonight?” she asked. The band played in the background while Becky spoke. “We want to thank you for coming out tonight, and we ask only one thing of you.”

  The crowd screamed in unison, “What’s that?!”

  Becky answered: “That you all have a great time! Please enjoy the music, buy plenty of drinks, and don’t forget to tip all of the beautiful waitresses really well!” The crowd cheered and whistled.

  “And now,” said Becky, “one of the reasons you have all come here tonight, ladies and gentlemen: The Whispers!” Becky motioned with her hand to welcome the band onstage.

  As she exited, The Whispers began to sing “Good things come to those who wait…don’t you ever be too late for love.” The crowd went wild and began to dance. They did an hour-and-a-half set and made sure to include all of the crowd favorites.

  When the last song began to fade out, Becky applauded the band as she walked back onto the stage. “Did you guys enjoy that?” she asked the crowd.

  “Yeah!” everyone screamed.

  “Good! Well, we’re going to take a brief intermission so you guys can order some food or drinks, use the bathroom, or do whatever it is you have to do. We don’t want you to miss any of this great lineup we have for you. We’ll see you back here in about twenty minutes. Until then, please enjoy Gotcha,” she said.

  Tony laughed from upstairs when he heard Becky introduce the band. He asked Bernie, “Why the name Gotcha?”

  Bernie replied, “Well, right after we finish playing, most times we jump off the stage and say ‘Gotcha!’”

  Becky walked into the bedroom. “Tony, you’re missing the whole damn show! You’re all dressed up for the party, but you’re up here packing instead.” She walked over, closed the suitcase, and grabbed his hand.

  “Come on,” she said. “We can pack in the morning. Now, can we please have some fun?” Becky pleaded.

  Reluctantly, Tony agreed. “The judge has been asking for you. I know you don’t want to show your face, but I think you should at least fake it. Go say hello,” she said, straightening his tie.

  Becky stuck Tony’s gun into his holster and kissed him on the lips. Tony was so fixated on the judge that, as he exited the back room, he didn’t notice as Paulie walked right by him. Paulie bit his bottom lip hard. He wanted nothing more than to snatch Tony and start his ass-kicking, but Don Veto shook his head disapprovingly.

  Sal received a phone call just as Paulie rejoined the group. He got up and came back in with Linda, who was looking good. Sal had really transformed her.

  “Look over there,” Don Veto said to Sal.

  “It’s my fuckin’ nephew. Look at him! Doesn’t he look like a fuckin’ king?”

  “Holy shit,” Sal said, “he really fuckin’ changed. I guess he’s not using that shit no more.” They laughed. “How do you wanna handle this, Don Veto?” Sal asked.

  “We’ll sit, enjoy the music, and then we will make him come home. Until then, relax and have a bite to eat. It’s all on him,” said the don.

  Sal carried his trusty shotgun under his coat. The judge and his men were also carrying, as were Spazo and Ghetto. Nearly every person in there was strapped, but each had his own agenda. “Just keep a fuckin’ eye on him,” Don Veto said.

  “Oh, I will!” replied Paulie.

  Tony walked right past Spazo and Ghetto. He accidentally bumped into Mr. Y, causing him to spill his vodka all over his suit. “You stupid idiot!” Mr. Y said. “Look what you did!”

  Tony said, “Hey, sorry ’bout that, my man.” He motioned for one of the waitresses to come over. “Please forgive me, sir. Your drinks are on me.” The waitress nodded, as did Mr. Y.

  He looked up and saw Spazo. He knew that he knew him from somewhere, but he couldn’t quite figure it out, so he shrugged it off.

  “There’s your man,” Spazo said to Mr. Y.

  While keeping an eye on Tony, Don Veto spotted something. He thought he was going crazy. “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “Hey, Sal, is that who the fuck I think it is?”

  Sal looked over and saw Mr. Y. “Holy shit!” shouted Sal, cocking his gun.

  At that same moment, Paulie looked up and saw Spazo and Ghetto sitting at a table with them. “Holy shit!” he said, reaching for his weapon.

  Just as the mob heads were noticing each other across the busy room, Sasha walked out of the bathroom, and one of the East Side Boys grabbed her ass. Before he knew what was going on, Sasha reached back and grabbed him by the balls and had him in the air screaming like a bitch. Another of the East Side Boys put a gun to Sasha’s head, but she was a pro. She made a sudden maneuver and sliced the man’s throat in one swift move.

  Looking up, Spazo saw what Sasha had done, and he and Ghetto reacted quickly and were by her side in a matter of seconds. The pushing and shoving began.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, Spazo saw Paulie. “What the fuck?” he said, drawing his weapon.

  The agents at the door reacted to Sal as he pulled his weapon. Amid the chaos, Mr. Y and his men drew their weapons. The agents on the stage drew there weapons in response. And then out came the judge and his boys. Everybody stood still, not wanting to make a move. There had to be 30 to 40 guns being waved around.

  Tony saw Paulie and Don Veto. His heart dropped.

  Mr. Y said to Tony, “Where is my fuckin’ money, you piece of shit?” It was then that Tony realized who he was. Mr. Y pointed his gun at Tony’s head and pulled the trigger.

  Becky was fast. She saw what was going down and pulled her trigger just a bit faster than Mr. Y could. Her shot sent him flying backward onto the floor. One of Mr. Y’s bodyguards opened fire. Bullets ripped through Becky’s beautiful body.

  “No!” Tony screamed and opened fire on the Ukrainians.

  All hell had broken loose. Bullets flew from every direction. The undercover agents from the stage took cover behind the bar, and they traded shots with the judge’s people.

  One of the East Side Boys saw Don Veto pull out his gun. Just as he turned to shoot him, Sal blew the man over the counter.

  Sasha was doing more hand-to-hand combat. She was walking through the crowd, slicing throats as if it was her hobby. Ghetto and Spazo were locked in a tussle with everyone who crossed their path. They basically had to try and shoot their way out of the front door, but neither they nor anyone else could get there.

  Tony jumped up and ran toward the back of his club, firing shots as he ran. “Ahh!” he screamed as a bullet tore through his leg.

  “You motherfucker!” Paulie said, firing shot after shot at Tony, trying, and failing, to stop him. Tony kept running and dove over the counter just as Sasha spotted him.

  She started to give chase when another one of the East Side Boys punched her hard in the face. She stood there after the punch and said, “Oh, you wanna fight?” She used her razor to carve him up. Out of all the people being shot and punched, he had it the worst. In less than one minute, Sasha had cut the man over a hundred times in multiple spots. She appeared to be a ninja.

  When he spotted Spazo, Paulie yelled out, “No fucking way!” He raised his gun and opened fire.

  Spazo said, “Oh shit, look who the fuck it is!” He returned fire.

  Don Veto grabbed one of his guards and yelled out an order. “Go get the fuckin’ car! It’s a war zone in here!” The guard stood up to exit, but was torn apart by gunfire. Sal clutched Don Veto and blasted his way to the door, where more ATF agents were coming in.

  “Wait!” Linda screamed. She tried to follow Sal, but she was also blown to shreds.

  “No! Fuck, no! Lindaaa!” Sal screamed. As he backed out the door, he opened fire on the man responsible for murdering his Linda.

  “Drop your weapon!!”
the agents ordered Sal. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Sal let four shots fly, and the agents fell to their deaths.

  Sal and Don Veto managed to climb into their car. “Where the fuck is Paulie?” asked Sal. “I’ll be right back.” He reloaded his gun. “Stay down, Veto!” Sal rushed back inside the house of chaos. People were running outside, bloody from their wounds. Multiple gunshots continued to ring throughout the place.

  Sal spotted Paulie in a shootout with Spazo and Ghetto and he joined in. The ATF agents were pinned down behind the bar; they didn’t know who was who. Jacobson and Walters dove near them and were met with hot lead.

  Bernie had shot both agents multiple times. It was only after they landed that he saw Jacobson’s badge. “Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck!” he screamed out. Then one of the East Side Boys let him have it. Pop, pop, pop, pop! He was met with an equal amount of bullets from Bernie’s crew.

  There was a full-fledged, take-no-prisoners, shoot-’em-up gang war going on! Tony was crying, thinking of what had happened to Becky. He rushed upstairs, grabbed the bag of cash, and jumped out onto the fire escape. As he made his way down the ladder, he heard the howling of the police sirens in the distance grow closer and closer.

  Spazo and Ghetto somehow made it to the back door just as Tony was getting in his car. “Hold up, hold up, motherfucker! Drop the gun!” Spazo shouted.

  Tony said, “Wait, I know you! Frankie and I bought some shit off of you. Damn!”

  “That’s right,” said Spazo. “And because of you, that motherfucker kidnapped my little sister Dawn!”

  “Hey, man, I had nothing to do with that bullshit. Please!” Tony begged.

  “Yes, the fuck you did! Now I got your ass, you fuck!” said Spazo.

  Just as he raised his gun to shoot, Paulie shot from the fire escape and struck Spazo in the arm. “Motherfucker!” Ghetto screamed, opening up fire toward the fire escape.