He knew something she didn’t know. Only some sinister secret would give him the gall to act so bold on her husband’s turf.
Knight, baby, where are you?
The Queen wanted so badly, to get up and run until she found Knight. She would grab his hand and together, they would run.
A giant hand gripped her shoulder, and she froze.
It was Pong’s. He and his brother were motioning for her and CoCo to follow them. The expressions on their faces let them know that they weren’t escorting the ladies to a champagne toast at the after party.
Chapter 109
Moreno was on the phone with his commander, who gave a move-by-move report.
The battalion was charging the tunnel leading from the Detroit River. These young men and women whom he had recruited from ravaged areas of Ireland, Bosnia, Israel, and every inner city in America were trained and ready to kill. They specialized in storming buildings full of people and getting them all under control in a matter of minutes. So that Moreno could get what he wanted and leave just as quickly.
The thunder of their feet echoed up the metal staircases into the first floor, second floor, and third floor of The Playhouse.
Red had a floor plan of the building thanks to Flame down in Mexico. A comrade had interviewed the exiled Stud, who had been delighted to share confidential information about the secret tunnels.
A bit of C4 explosives on the vault and the millions would be his. Then his troops would head up to wherever Knight was hiding. They’d kill him, take Cleopatra, and get to work.
Merging this urban empire with Moreno Enterprises, would take work. The transition could get rocky, if they encountered any opposition from the staff, but they were used to being ruled with an iron fist. So it would be only a matter of time before they got used to having a white man call the shots.
Red Moreno watched the dick-sucking contest on stage as he calmly gave orders into his cell phone. Some of his troops were about to barge into the vault room while others were seeking out Knight and Cleopatra.
Then Red would have five minutes to extricate the lovely girl from his lap, meet with his commander, and ride away with Cleopatra and twenty-five million dollars.
Chapter 110
“What the fuck!” Paul exclaimed as dozens of white men and women in brown jumpsuits stormed up into The Playhouse from the river tunnel. But they weren’t feds. Then who the hell were they?
Paul stood in the center of Cairo, watching the monitors. He felt helpless, like all the wild cards he’d never even thought of were being played at once. How could he trump all that by himself? Because even the top-security Barriors and B’Amazons here in Cairo were staring wide-eyed at the monitors.
I need Knight back up here! He didn’t say nothin’ about this shit goin’ down!
But Knight was heading down to the third floor to pounce on Duke, while Ping and Pong were bringing The Queen and CoCo up here. All the while, the show was still going on in the auditorium, and thousands of people were partying on every floor of the building.
It looked like the fed vans were starting to move in. The video monitors from the outdoor cameras showed the vans steadily creeping up the street, and the cameras on the roof showed two choppers hovering close, while Coast Guard boats were bobbing just beyond the marina.
Babylon ’bout to blow!
Paul punched a single button on his console to reach Knight’s cell phone. “Answer!” he exclaimed.
If Knight walks up on those white soldiers storming down the third floor hallway, toward the vault—Paul stood in disbelief. The white folks in brown jumpsuits burst into the vault room.
Duke, Dickman, and Rip Masta all drew guns. Bullets blasted and bodies dropped.
Pow!
The floor shook. A gray cloud rolled up toward the monitors.
“Somebody blew something up,” Paul exclaimed. And the vault room monitors went black.
“There’s Duke!” A Barrior pointed to another screen. “In the hallway.”
A B’Amazon said, “Here comes Knight!”
A gray dust cloud rolled into the hallway, where people were running, coughing, and blasting guns at each other.
Paul’s brain was a tornado. Should I ignite the moat? Put the rooftop snipers on alert? Sound the alarm? How far had The Queen and CoCo made it? Since the auditorium was on the first and second levels, and the vault was on the third floor, were they caught in that chaos? Had the explosion blown through the floor?
No, the music was still blasting in the auditorium; those sex-crazed folks didn’t hear or see a thing. On the monitors, they were transfixed on the Longest Fuck contest on stage, where five couples remained in a frenzied fuck-a-thon.
He almost laughed. If this joint was about to blow up, then those Studs were the luckiest dudes in the building because they’d die fuckin’.
Paul felt dizzy. “What the hell should I do right now?”
Chapter 111
Knight had to find The Queen. They had to get out now. He could do without waiting on Jamal; he could make do with the twenty-five million he already had.
This is a matter of life and death.
Knight coughed on the gray dust in the dimly lit hallway. He stepped over a white man in brown who was groaning on the floor.
Moreno’s people. What fuckin’ nerve for that muthafucka to think he could storm my turf and steal my loot!
The Queen. Knight’s legs pumped with bionic speed. Holding his breath against the dusty smoke, he ran down the hallway to meet Ping and Pong just as they brought his goddess and CoCo up to Cairo on the ninth floor. He charged into the stairwell, taking the black metal steps three at a time. His heart throbbed with pain as he huffed, finally reaching the eighth floor landing.
One more to go.
He’d get The Queen, tell Paul to ignite the moat, and dash to the boat. As he ran up the final flight, he heard voices. Saw several pairs of black Tims, and pink leather stiletto boots. Two pairs.
His heart stopped, or at least it felt that way.
The Queen was standing there, wide-eyed with fear, as Li’l Tut wrapped his arm around her neck and aimed a gun at Knight. “Deja vu, muthafuckaaaaa!” Li’l Tut teased with a crazed look in his eyes. With that raw wound on his cheek, he looked like Freddy Krueger. His voice echoed off the exposed brick of the stairwell. Then he imitated the twang of a cowboy, “Time for a showdown, sheriff.”
Dickman and Rip Masta, plus three of their homies, were all pointing guns at Ping, Pong, and CoCo. The thugs let out deep, sinister laughs.
Knight’s chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.
He stared his brother in the eye. Then he glanced at The Queen. The terror on her face, and the tremble of her body which in eight months would deliver their baby Prince of peace, riled up something in his soul.
I’ll save my family. And today’s not my day to die.
Chapter 112
On video monitors, Paul watched the showdown in the stairwell. He mobilized snipers to take out Duke and his crew.
A rifle-carrying battalion of Barriors and B’Amazons was already stomping those crazy folks in brown jumpsuits down in the tunnel. The lower stairwells, and the hallway led to the already empty vault.
“Paul.” A Barrier pointed to monitors showing the vans full of federal agents. They were approaching; some of the SWAT looking officers were piling out in front of the building.
“Inferno!” Paul commanded.
Suddenly all the fear and worry and confusion melted. He knew exactly what he had to do.
The Barrior walked to the red panel and flipped the switch.
Whoosh!
A wall of fire rose up in front of The Playhouse. The SWAT dudes shielded their faces and ran back.
Chapter 113
As Jamal announced the winners of the Longest Fuck contest, the audience screamed, shrieked and even squirted cum up toward the stage. The whole joint was as orgified as any Babylon party was supposed to be.
What the fuck is going on right now?
Jamal wanted to know why the fuck CoCo and The Queen had disappeared during the hottest event of the night. If they were that horny, they coulda done each other right there in the box and let him glance up for a peek. Or they could’ve waited another twenty or thirty minutes for him and Knight to all get on the boat and get freaky together before the honeymoon lovebirds left to do their own thing.
Fuck! Deep down in his trembling gut, he knew the reason the girls were gone was much more serious than them wanting to get their freak on. Somethin’ ain’t right.
Duke was supposed to page him but hadn’t; Knight was supposed to call him but hadn’t.
CoCo normally would’ve text messaged him something nasty to tease him and tell him where she was, and she hadn’t. And why the fuck did the floor shake like that? Even with these superhuman fuck machines on the stage, nothing right could rock the house like that.
Plus, why had that spooky lookin’ Moreno dude and his crew just up and left in a huff while their team was winning too? It didn’t make sense.
Now, Jamal still had to oversee all the winners as they collected their cash prizes from that little, guarded room backstage. The Barriors and B’Amazons were delivering the cash to each of them in Babylon’s trademark gold treasure chests, and they were getting high security escorts out of the auditorium.
In another room, all the cats who were high on booze, booty, and blunts were collecting their winnings for the bets they’d placed on each event.
Jamal loved the excitement and the eroticism and the enterprising spirit of the night. Naw, he didn’t need Duke to run this shit. It was too much responsibility to share with that hothead. Plus, the millions of dollars in the house right now, made Beat bang for a hot second.
All this will be mine in a minute. As long as Babylon still standin’ long enough for me an’ Knight to do the damn deal.
Chapter 114
Knight remembered his favorite scenes in all those wild, wild west movies when the cowboy would draw his guns with lightning speed, blast away his enemies, and make off with the girl, the money, or simply his life.
Right now, as he stared at the defiantly crazy look in Li’l Tut’s eyes and the horrifically terrified expression on The Queen’s face, he was about to reenact one of those scenes.
Ping and Pong were so quick, they could do the same in a split second, to take care of Li’l Tut’s punks.
Question was, which gun should he reach for first? The one in the waistband of his pleated black Armani silk pants? The one in the holster under his shoulder? Or the two in his black leather cowboy boots?
With his free hand, Li’l Tut yanked down The Queen’s camisole, and her titties popped out.
“Eh, big bro’, remember when you took my bitch? She was sittin’ naked on my dick at my birthday party, and you just lifted her off like you used to do when we was small, always stealin’ my favorite toy for yourself?” Li’l Tut tossed back his head, making his sinister laughter echo up the stairwell.
Knight half-winked at Ping and Pong. It was too subtle for those knuckleheads, Dickman and Rip Masta, to catch. It meant, “Do like I do, when I do it.”
The Queen’s mind was racing with thoughts as she crossed her arms over her bare breasts. If she still had her gun in her boot, now wouldn’t have been the time for her to try to draw it.
Just before Li’l Tut looked back down, Knight cast a look at her saying, “I got ya back, Tinkerbell.”
As he held a gun in his left hand, Li’l Tut used his other hand to yank down the zippers on each hip of her pink leather pants. The fabric fell down, exposing her still flat belly, where her and Knight’s baby was growing. Li’l Tut’s scarred hand pulled down her hands. He squeezed her breasts, pulling them up to cover her Cleopatra of the Knight tattoo. He unbuckled his baggy jeans and let them fall to the floor. His dick, big, hard, and bloody from a nasty gash on the shaft, swung out, and hit her leg.
“Yeah, we gon’ do a deja vu moment all the way, big bro’. We gon’—”
Pow!
Yeah, that’s how the sheriff rules in this town. Waistband was the closest thing to a wild, wild west hip-holster.
Perfect aim. Perfect shot. Right in the forehead.
Like the sharpshooter muthafuckas that they were, Ping and Pong, shot down Rip Masta, Dickman, and the two other thugs in a flash.
Then, like a giant robot switched into bionic gear, Knight swooped The Queen up in his arms, while Ping grabbed CoCo.
The men stepped over the mess on the landing. And headed up to Cairo.
Chapter 115
Trina Michaels could not believe that those ghetto pimps were pulling off this pyrotechnic feat. Her whole story was ruined, thanks to a lying thug named Rip Masta, an incompetent FBI joker named Rick Reed, and a Bonnie and Clyde team who had outsmarted everybody.
“Incredible.” Her cameraman gasped as he stood beside her, outside the TV truck, shooting video of the twenty-foot-high wall of fire.
Sure, this would make spectacular story in itself, but it was nothing like what she’d envisioned for her exposé on Babylon and the capture of Victoria Winston. Was she even still inside there? How long would this fire burn?
She dialed Rick on his cell phone. “Have you heard from Rip Masta? Or did he just fuck you up the ass?”
Two helicopters hovered nearby, but they couldn’t get any where near those flames.
Ping! Pow-pow-pow! Pop-pop-pop!
“Gunfire!” Trina screeched.
“Snipers on the roof,” the cameraman said, aiming his camera up where the orange glow of the fire illuminated the black tips of guns aiming down at federal agents still standing on the streets around the building.
Trina ran back into the unmarked TV truck.
“Shit!” She had dropped her phone. She’d thought she was so smart, orchestrating this story, using her body to get what she thought would be the scoop of the century. Now, she felt like a stupid, good for nothing, bitch. She was fucked.
Chapter 116
The siren blared as Emcee Sexarella and her crew hurried down the stairwell with mobs of other spectators. An announcement played over and over on the speaker system, “To escape the raid, proceed down the stairs to the underground tunnels. They will take you to a nearby nightclub, a park, and an outdoor concert pavilion. Blend in with the people there for a while. Then discreetly make arrangements to get picked up.”
Sexarella’s head throbbed. “We all drunk and fucked up, how we gon’ do all that?”
“Better ’n gettin’ locked up,” her Stud said playfully. “Gotta hand it to my man Knight though. He planned it out, an’ took care o’ his peeps in case of emergency.”
“What they got us on?” Sexarella took off her high-heeled boots so she could walk faster down these damn stairs.
A girl laughed. “Prostitution, drugs, gamblin’—”
“Guurrrl, shut the fuck up!” Sexarella said playfully. “Now, where we gon’ party at when we get the fuck outta these damn tunnels? Guuurrrlll, I hope it ain’t no rats up in here.”
Chapter 117
Babylon was burning behind her, or at least so it seemed, with the ring of fire around the building they had just escaped. The rat-tat-tat of guns echoed off the fire-lit sky. The screams of people in the stairwells and that deafening siren still rang in her ears.
The Queen was shell-shocked but not surprised.
Every minute for Alice in her sexy Wonderland had gotten more erotic and enticing from the first jump into what she’d thought was a terrifying black hole a year ago. But suddenly, over the past month, erotic, and enticing, had nose dived into sinister, and scary. So the turn of events today, her wedding day, was just following that trend.
She stared straight ahead at that boat about twenty feet away in the marina behind The Playhouse. That would be her magic carpet ride up and out of this Terrorland.
She gripped Knight’s hand harder as they ran across the lawn toward the
water. CoCo, Jamal, Ping, and Pong clustered close as they sprinted.
The marina lights were out, but the fire cast a bright orange glow over the boats and the black water.
Her lungs ached as she gasped for breath, and her toes throbbed from running down the stairs in stiletto boots.
But I’m alive. Duke didn’t get me. Neither did Brian or Moreno or anybody else. And Knight is alive.
Finally, their feet pounded onto the wooden dock. To her right and to her left, the fire ring burned all the way to the water’s edge. Knight had never told her about this medieval looking defense tactic. As long as it was keeping the bad guys out long enough for them to escape, she didn’t care. But what about all those police boats, Coast Guard patrols, and who knew what else was lurking out on the river?
Trust me, baby girl.
Yes, she could hear her Knight speaking again on their supernatural love connection.
The crew on the yacht was pulling in the bumpers and the ropes, ready to speed away as soon as they jumped on board. They stepped onto a plexiglass lip at the back, which was strewn with ropes, boogie boards, and scuba gear. It led to two sets of sliding doors.
Knight hurried them through one door, down into the plush living room area, and the boat took off.
“We’re safe,” Knight said, breathing hard. He looked pale, dark circles ringing his bloodshot eyes.
If anything had happened to him back there, she would’ve made like Juliet and followed Romeo to heaven. Hopefully they were on their way to doing that right now. On Earth. She needed a long hug and to make love to her husband.
Knight walked to a sleek, wooden desk built into the flat screen TV console. He pulled out his laptop and huddled with Jamal as they typed quickly and spoke softly.
“What the fuck type of business could you possibly be doing right now?” she demanded.
They ignored her.
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