by D Mann
“You better hurry up before they pass us,” Brazy urged.
“Tell ‘em to stop now!” Ronald ordered. “Stop the truck!” Brazy yelled, into the two way. “Brake! Brake!” Sharon heard the command and smashed the brakes bringing the truck to an abrupt stop. The helicopter sat hovering above the truck as the assassins continued to fire on it.
“I got this,” Ronald stated, zeroing in on the pilot and firing one shot. Both men watched as the helicopter began to spin out of control. Ronald made a direct hit. The pilot was mortally wounded and the airship was spinning uncontrolled towards the ground.
Sharon began to move down on the road and all watched as the helicopter started its downward descent.
“Ooh shit they hit it,” DA howled, in celebration. The crew looked on as the helicopter crashed into the desert and exploded killing all on board. “Ooo wee. Promise me blood you gon’ show me use that fucka,” Brazy demanded, through his excitement.
“No problem my young brother,” Ronald agreed. Sharon finished driving the rest of the mile and made a right turn into the compound, pulling the truck into the warehouse. Ronald and Brazy rushed downstairs to welcome the crew back.
“Here,” DA called o ut, pushing the ex-mayor away from himself. “Somebody put this piece of shit with the coroner. They have a lot of catching up to do.”
“We got the coroner restrained on the third floor,” Nap Bags informed. “He up there pleading to Ben like a coward.”
“Good! But he won’t be the only one up there pleading though,” DA responded.
The ex-mayor was taken by Kid and Nap Bags, everyone else was called to huddle up in the break room for briefing one another on.
Chapter 9
Take It to the Grave! The Penn , as the room was formidably named by the crew was located in the far corner of the building on the third floor. It was used as a utility room once looking at scrap objects that laid around the three wall shelf system. The room itself was humongous, and it now housed the trembling coroner.
Confined to a heavy metal chair, the coroner sat pleading his innocence. The coroner shook and perspired as if he was experiencing extreme hot and cold temperatures. His lips moved fast making his mumble difficult to comprehend.
Leaning against a table, pushed against the front wall sat Ben Brooks; eating an apple and obviously not buying any of the coroner’s lame ass
explanations.
“I remember asking you some questions that a reporter name Steven White once brought to my attention some years ago. You remember that, don’t you?” Ben chastised, calmly and slowly ingesting the remainder of his apple.
Ben began his stroll around the coroner, placing the apple core on the coroner’s bobbling head. “It’s amazing how quick he changed his story,” Ben taunted, watching the coroner shake the apple core off his head. “The same way you did Carey Henderson, coroner to the stars, kiss ass for the right price!”
“I did my job,” the coroner responded, sobbing. “Bullshit,” Ben declared, coolly. “It’s funny how one minute you were leaning, oh excuse me, the term you used when speaking out early to Steven White was, ‘it’s looking like a homicide.’ But by the time the press was able to get a camera in your face, you were calling it a suicide. Councilmen Hynes deserved better than that Carey and you know it. You don’t want to tell the truth I understand but know this, what goes around comes around.
The coroner hung his head low and continued his light sobbing. “Sounds like you’re about to get some old companionship,” Ben stated, listening to the oncoming commotion out in the hallway as he leaned back against the table.
The door swung open and the Bag brothers brought in the frail but resisting ex-mayor. They placed the exmayor’s seat a foot from the coroners, side by side and confined him to it.
“I’ll leave you two to catch up on old times,” Ben told, exiting the room with the Bag brothers. “Y’all be cool,” Kid bags warned.
“And try and stay put,” Nap Bags joked, closing the door. “Don’t go anywhere.” “Well if it isn’t Carey Henderson,” the ex -mayor started, scrutinizing the coroner’s appearance from head to toe. “Seeing that you’ve pissed your pants already, I guess it’s not a far stretch of the imagination to know you‘ve ran your mouth. How much have you told those niggers?”
“Fuck you! I haven’t told them shit,” the coroner replied. “You’re probably the reason these bastards have us here.”
“You’re spouting off nonsense,” the ex -mayor replied. “Just make sure you keep your mouth shut and maybe, just maybe you’ll make it out of this alive.”
“None of us are making it out of here alive,” The coroner exclaimed. “I’ve already overheard our fate and survival isn’t part of it.”
“Hmm. You’ve always been a coward and it’s really showing now Carey,” the ex-mayor sounded off. “You either take it to the grave with you or you’re going in a box sooner than you think.”
The coroner hung his head and closed his eyes. He wondered if there was a chance he could come out of this alive. Only time would tell.
Chapter 10
A Lack of Cooperation “Y’all two muthafuckas gon’ tell me exactly what I need to know or y’all gon’ be sippin’ on testicle soup,” DA threatened, slapping blood from the coroner’s mouth like a prostitute while eyeing the exmayor. “Y’all understand me!”
DA grabbed the ex-mayor around his neck indenting his thumbs and fingers, and began cutting off of the man’s air supply. The ex-mayor began gasping and heaving like a wounded man on a battle field.
“Am I making myself fuckin’ clear to you!” DA growled, choking the visible life from the exmayor.
Crafty, Mike and Ronald quickly set out to restrain DA before he actually killed the ex-mayor without the crew questioning him.
“Let him do his thang!” Pockets roared, rushing to and pulling on Mike’s shoulder. “Let him do his thang!”
Dana had straddled Crafty’s back in protest of restraining her brother. “Get y’all hands of my brother!” Dana yelled, tugging on Crafty’s massive arms. “He know what he doing!”
“Dana stop!” Crafty barked, yanking at DA’s torso. “Dude’s eyes rolling back in his head!” “Fuck ‘em! They both guilty!” Dana retorted, still tugging at Crafty’s arms. “DA! LET ‘EM GO!” the trio of Crafty, Mike and Ronald screamed, struggling to pry DA’s hands from the exmayor’s throat.
“DA chokin’ da shit outta cuzz,” Mayhem snickered, laughing out loud. “Bearilla, Fingers, Brazy and Bloodstone agreed in unison with hysterical laughter that had them falling against one another.
“He about to kill Blood,” Brazy giggled, bending over and grabbing his stomach. “Dat muthafucka’s face red as a muthafucka’ blood,” Bloodstone chuckled, bumping shoulders with Fingers.
“Look at da’ coroner cuzz!” Fingers cackled, slapping Brazy’s back. “He scared shitless.” “Damnnnn! DA really chokin’ da shit outta dat cracka,” Bearilla chuckled, but starting to witness the severity of DA’s anger.
Elliot, Sharon and Belinda stood, faces solemn as they watched the youthful group visually enjoy a near death sighting as if it was Stand Up Comedy. The young group rolled around in painful laughter.
“DA, my young brother,” the elder Ben Brooks uttered, reaching out and touching DA’s shoulder calmly. “If I may? It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen these two. If they don’t start talking to me, I’ll step aside and let you resume your personal style of interrogation. Please young brother, let me talk to them first?”
DA’s hands began to ease from around the ex - mayor throat as Ben kept words flowing through his ear. DA let the ex-mayor go but offered a stern warning first.
“You two either talk to him or deal with me. You muthafuckas got one hour; not a second more,” DA notified, strolling out of the room with most of the group behind him.
“I guess this is where the past comes back to haunt you exmayor Riley,” Ben uttered, staring into the eyes of both men. �
�It’s no better time for truth than right now.”
“Go to hell Ben,” Riley spoke, spitting at the shoes of Ben while his eyes continued to water from the choking. “You and your wanna be paramilitary clowns are as good as dead men for this.”
Ben just smiled and walked circles around the two ignoring the threats made by the ex-mayor. “You know it’s a reason I never voted for you,” Ben informed. “Stupidity always seemed to be your strong suit to me and I see nothing has changed over the years.”
“Save the speech Ben. I’m not telling you a thing,” Riley shot back, slowly regaining his breath.
“Have it your way. Maybe you should save what little breath my brother kindly left you,” Ben stated, leaning against the table. “But understand when my young brother gets back in here, not even Jesus will be able to save you.”
“Fuck the both of you,” ex-mayor Riley declared. “How about you Carey? You’re not talking either?” Ben asked. “I don’t know anything,” Carey replied, looking nervous and clearing his mouth of still forming blood.
“Of course you do,” Ben returned. “All those obvious murders,” “They were suicides!” the coroner Carey screamed, spitting into a small pool of blood forming between his feet.
“Yeah! Once you were elected to do the autopsy,” Ben enlightened, with his intense tone. “Just like you called Councilmen Hynes and Jackson’s murders a suicide! Who ordered you to do so?”
The coroner sat silent with his head hung low. He attempted to avoid any eye contact with Ben. Ben pushed himself off the table, walked over to Carey, grabbed his chin and raised his head. Ben’s stare told of bad things to come.
“Who ordered you to cover up their murders?” Ben questioned, sternly. The coroner gazed in the eyes of Ben. For a brief moment his eyes peeked over at the ex-mayor. Ben caught the glance.
“Was it you Riley? Were you the one giving the coroner his orders?” Ben inquired. “You were definitely banker funded and operated.”
Both men sat defiantly quiet as Ben gave them the evil stare down. Ben continued to question the two men for nearly a hour without any progress or admissions from either. The vast sounds of boots were heard approaching at a rapid pace. Ben shook his head at the lying pair.
“From the sounds of it,” Ben said, cuffing his ear with an apparent smile on his face. “This lack of cooperation just qualified you two for a well whooped ass,” Ben finished, opening the door. Chapter 11
Discovery “We gotta another hit!” Ronald screamed, with Brazy slapping his shoulder as several members of the team gathered around. “Thanks to the Bag brothers introduction of Henry Robertson we’ve been able to find some key information.”
“And a few more guilty faces,” Brazy added. “It seems that Henry Robertson and Casey Kovac partnered in very lucrative business transactions here in Los Angeles during the late 70’s and early 80’s. They used many principle banks for revenue adjustment and the Commission for control and guaranteed licensing,” Ronald spoke, spinning in his chair from the laptop screen to eye the group with his look of sincerity. “They owned LA’s business sector.”
Ronald spun back around facing the excited Brazy and requested he pull up cross references. “Blood I learned how to cross reference. You know I’m classified G-14 now right? Check this shit out,” Brazy announced, flashing laptop screens.
“These are all known business associates and all unknown business associates for both Henry Robertson and Casey Kovac,” Ronald explained, as Brazy readied himself to switch screens again. “A few things to make note of. Most are dead, most had numerous shell companies and almost all took out investment loans with these banking institutions here.”
Brazy’s finger tapped a key and a flash
introduced new details. “Damn blood! That’s a lot of banks,” Bloodstone acknowledged, squinting as his head leaned forward.
“I count about two dozen myself,” Sharon stated. “Mmm hmmm,” Brazy agreed, glancing at Sharon. “Yeah but after cross referencing loan amounts to these dudes shell companies you find out these four banks continually approved the biggest loans with or without city approval,” Ronald added, as Brazy changed screens again. “These are the four men that ran those banks; they were all Financial Analysts. All decease, all four by suicide.”
“Suicide my ass cuzz,” Fingers grunted, tapping Belinda’s arm. “Dem muthafuckas got smoked! You feel me?”
“Yeah. Unfortunately I do,” Belinda answered, retreating to her own mind momentarily. “Are any of these banks still in operation now because somebody is still funding these assholes?”
“Don’t know but we’ ll find out soon,” Ronald replied. “What I can tell you is this, one of Casey Kovac’s last transactions before his demise a few years back was a joint endeavor with our current head of Police League and ex-police chief Darryl Fince himself.
“The rest of the group needs to hear this right now,” Crafty urged. “My uncles, DA, Mike and Elliot are still on radio silence,” Bearilla responded, hugging Crafty’s shoulders. Dana and Pockets are out on the premises somewhere doing the nasty I bet.”
“At a time like this you can think about sex?” Crafty questioned, in disbelief. “At a time like this you could be getting,” Bearilla teased, going into an ear whisper that put a smile across Crafty’s face.
Crafty looked at his watch. DA and the others wouldn’t be heard from for another twenty minutes, they were maintaining strict radio silence for their current mission.
It had been awhile since Crafty had the pleasure of enjoying his woman’s company and Bearilla was pushing her sexual agenda to full extent down on Crafty.
“I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Crafty advised, grabbing Bearilla by the hand and dragging her in a hurry out of the room.
Crafty figured the third floor, south corner of complex 3 would present a nice quiet spot for him and Bearilla to spend some quality time until the sounds of Dana and Pockets emanated from a room up ahead.
“Sounds like your little homeboy on his knees,” Bearilla commented, with a wide smile across her face. “And I don’t think he’s proposing.”
“Probably not,” Crafty respo nded, escorting Bearilla to the opposite side of the building. “But it sure sounds like she’s saying yes; over, over and over again. You’ll be joining her as soon as we get in a room.”
Chapter 12
Understood! The Bag brothers dragged the unconscious man down the hall followed by DA, Elliot and Mike. Ben stood in the doorway with a rising smile as he stepped aside to allow entrance. The ex-mayor and coroner’s eyes grew ten centimeters when the brothers pulled the man through the door.
DA grabbed a chair from the back of the room, placing it next to the ex-mayor and the Bag brothers started to confine the man wit cuffs and shackles to it.
DA gave a quick inspection of his watch and steadied the brothers as they put the finishing touches on confining the man.
“Times up for you fuckas!” DA alerted, posturing in front of the flinching ex-mayor who sat in the middle chair while the shaking coroner
remembered the previous blood drawing strike DA gave to his mouth. “I hope y’all had something tell Ben.”
“Neither one felt like telling me anything,” Ben replied, watching Elliot make his way over to the unconscious man.
“John Whitecloud!” Ell iot yelled, slapping the unconscious man awake. The man’s body jolted back to life. “Wake yo’ punk ass up! I always wanted to say that.”
Ben began giving John Whitecloud a brief update on his current position and problem. The group sat around looking on as Ben refreshed John on his personal history. John took note of his
environment and the two men seated next to him. John Whitecloud became extremely nervous.
“Let me make a long story short for you,” Ben said, leaning back against the table. “These men want to know who pulled your chain back then.”
John Whitecloud scanned the faces of the men who stood before him; they looked as if they
wanted him dead.
“Now I know your first mind is tell us fuck us and you’re not telling us shit,” Ben told. “But I would seriously advise against that. You’re in the presence of some real live niggas with attitudes. Each one of them waiting to peel a piece of skin from your fake Indian white racist ass. My advice would be to talk and talk fast. Time is up as my young brother told those two a minute ago.”
“That was all so long ago. What’s your personal interest?” John asked, looking in the eyes of DA. “From the looks of it, that was before your time son.”
“The Arrington’s,” DA announced, flashing back to his parents while moving to face John Whitecloud, and smacking him in similar fashion to the exmayor. “And I’m asking the fucking questions around here; remember that!”
DA eyed the coroner and ex-mayor and walked back over in front of the ex-mayor.
“Nobody wants to make a deal huh?” DA asked, scanning between the three men. All three men sat quietly with their faces down. DA without hesitation pulled his pistol from his side holster and fired one shot into the exmayor’s skull, killing him instantly. John Whitecloud and the coroner went into a frantic hysteria, screaming and crying.
“Shut the fuck up!” DA ordered, slapping John Whitecloud with his pistol and missing a swipe at the coroner’s head. DA stood erect after regaining his balance from the stumble leaning across the exmayor’s body. “Y'all either tell me something or die right now!”
Mike and Elliott rushed DA to halt his killing spree while the Nap Brothers studied the growing tussle.
“DA we need these assholes!” Mike screamed, struggling with DA.
DA broke free from the grasping Mike and Elliot pointing his pistol in the face of Mike. “Don’t get confused!” DA shouted. “This joint operation or whatever the fuck you wanna call it is under my control! This will be the last time I ask you if we clear on that!”