Carl Weber's Kingpins: Jamaica

by Racquel Williams

  There was a bottle of Patrón in his hand. “Mi overstand.”

  After he closed the patio doors, he closed the distance between us. “I want to personally thank you for what you did last night.”

  “What happened to the patois?” With a smile, I took the glass that he’d just poured a shot of liquor into.

  “You’re an American woman, and I think I spent enough time over there to speak to you like you’re used to.”

  “My pops was Jamaican, and so is a lot of my family. I understand you just fine.”

  He nodded. “Your pops was . . . ?”

  “He died a few years ago. Pancreatic cancer. He used to drink a lot.” We hadn’t gone over that part of the story, so I had to come up with something.

  “Wow. That’s tough.” He poured himself a drink and sat down at the patio table.

  “Yeah, but at least I have Sway.” I sat down across from him.

  “You don’t have any more brothers or sisters?” He put the glass up to his luscious lips and took a long gulp.

  “No. It’s just the two of us.”

  “Cool. No wonder you’re so close.”

  Taking a drink myself, I realized it was hard not to say that it was quite the contrary between me and the man that he knew as Sway.

  “The way you reacted last night tells me a lot about you. I mean, I gotta admit that I had my doubts at first.” His eyes met mine, and he held my eyes in his gaze. “Now I feel like I owe you.”

  “Well, you don’t, but your girl didn’t seem to be that . . . thankful.”

  “Well, Camille’s a different breed, I must admit. She doesn’t trust you and your brother. She told me that I shouldn’t do business with you, although you saved her life and possibly even mine. I mean, there was two of my niggas at the door, but he must’ve done a sneak attack on them. They couldn’t get their straps out in time. It’s fucked up, but that’s how it is sometimes.”

  “Yeah, it’s the lifestyle we signed up for, I guess.”

  With a nod, Gaza pulled a rolled blunt from behind his ear and lit it. “You smoke?” he asked.

  “I indulge sometimes, but at this point I’m tryin’a quit. I ’on’t want a fuzzy head. I’m already drinking.”

  “I feel you, but this shit here clears the mind.” He held the blunt toward me for me to take it.

  Weed always made me feel vulnerable, and I’d laugh out of control when I smoked, and the one thing I didn’t want was to be under the influence and somehow blow my cover. I didn’t even need that damn drink he’d given me. But as much as I wanted to refuse the blunt, I knew I couldn’t. After taking the blunt, I took a light puff and blew the smoke out without inhaling.

  “You didn’t even hit that shit good,” he remarked.

  After taking a longer hit, I held the smoke in my lungs before blowing it out. Immediately, I was high as hell, and I passed the blunt back. “That’s enough for me.”

  “Wow, you didn’t even cough. Let me find out that although you’re all woman and you’re sexy as hell, you’re a real boss.”

  “Well, a boss can be male or female,” I reminded him.

  “True, but a female boss is different than a male boss. I need a cutthroat chick like you on my team. Was you planning on returning to New York after we do the exchange?”

  “Well, actually, I was.”

  “Why don’t you rethink that and stay here? Do a little business with me. You’re very smart and business savvy. What I have in mind doesn’t have anything to do with drugs, though. This is about straight cash.”

  “Talk to me.”

  In no time he’d given me all the details about the scam that his crew was running on unsuspecting citizens of the United States and other countries.

  “Damn. I’m wit’ it. All profit. How could I say no?” I said.

  “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

  He passed me the blunt again, and that time, I didn’t hesitate to take a long pull. One thing I’d learned about going undercover was you had to do what you had to do to convince a criminal that you were a criminal too.

  “So, when are we goin’ to discuss the business we talked about last night? It’s getting late,” I said.

  “Where do you have to be? You got a man over here or something?”

  “No, I don’t have a man anywhere.”

  “Mmm. Well, too bad for the men here and in the States.”

  “So, where’s your girl?” I asked.

  “She’ll be here later. She decided to chill with one of her friends for a bit. Honestly, I thought that was best while we handle what we need to handle.”

  “So, you don’t involve her in your business dealings?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. She’s not that type of woman.”

  “If she was, would you involve her? I mean, isn’t it true that if you love your lady, you’d protect her from risky shit?”

  “I guess, in a way.” He took the blunt from my outstretched hand. “The thought of my woman knowin’ just as much about the game as I do, or more than me, is a little bit intriguin’ too.”

  “You can’t have both.”

  “Truth.”

  I downed the rest of my drink, stood up, and tried to keep my balance in my high heels as I headed over to the patio doors. The hip-hugging shorts that I wore accentuated my hips and slim waist. I could feel Gaza’s eyes burning a hole in my skin as I nodded at him, opened the patio doors, and stepped inside.

  About an hour later, Gaza took me and Sway aside and invited us to talk in his personal office. This time, it was only the three of us.

  “It’s going to take a couple days to get all one hundred of the keys you want. I’m hoping you’ll be patient,” he said after we had sat down across from him at his desk.

  “So, yuh don’t have a hundred keys already in place?” Miles quizzed.

  “We have eighty that we can get our hands on now, and the rest is in a stash house a few hundred miles away. Like I said, give us a couple days.”

  “That’s no problem, Gaza,” I said, with my eye on Miles. Why the fuck was he making that shit an issue? Time wasn’t of the essence, being that we had all the time in the world to do what we had to do.

  “Okay, great. I’ll be in touch.” With that said, Gaza got up and walked out of his office, and we followed. He closed the double doors behind us. “Enjoy yourselves. The business part of this is over for now. Have fun.”

  “No, we’re going to head on out. We have some other business to handle,” Miles threw in. His accent had almost disappeared.

  “I think we can stay just a little longer, Sway,” I asserted, hoping he’d get the point that we needed to dig a little bit deeper and watch Gaza’s moves closely. The more time we spent keeping an eye on Gaza and his crew, the better. Why was Miles in such a damn rush?

  “We have to go, Indica. Now.”

  As I gave Miles the eye, I told Gaza, “Well, we have to go. I guess we’ll be waitin’ to hear from you.”

  “Okay.” With a nod, Gaza walked off to continue partying.

  As I followed Miles out the door, I was fuming, because our time in Jamaica was all about gathering proof of Gaza’s crimes. What the fuck else did we have to do? When we were in the car, I tore into his ass.

  “What the fuck, Miles! Gaza literally invited me to be a part of the scam that was mentioned in the file. I wanted to ask him more about it.”

  “Please! You want to do way more than that, Cathy. I have to protect you from yourself. If you don’t get some control over yourself, I’m going to tell Morris to pull you off the case. To be honest with you, he wasn’t even going to put you on it. I insisted that he did.”

  “What? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? So I’m on this fuckin’ case because of you, and being that I won’t give in and fuck you, you want to try to find a reason to get me off the case? You’re a real jerk, Miles. I can’t believe you! I’m simply doing my job. You don’t have one reason to feel that I don’t have this shit under control. Wha
t you’re thinking is personal, and the reason you recommended me for this case was personal too. Well, that’s too bad, because I’m going to take this opportunity. I’m going to do exactly what you doubt I can do, and be the one who cracks this case. You need to get the fuck out of your feelings, because this shit isn’t about you or me. It’s about getting some scumbags off the streets and putting them in prison, so they can no longer destroy our country with drugs and mass murder. You seem to be more concerned about what I’m going to do with the pussy I choose not to give to you anymore.”

  Miles didn’t say anything. He turned the music up, and some reggae pumped from the speakers, causing me to wish I could go back to Gaza’s party to unwind. The weed and drink he’d given me made me want to get loose, instead of being stuck with Miles’s uptight ass. He sped down the narrow street fast as hell, but there was no need to worry about the cops, because he was driving like the natives did.

  By the time we got back to the villa, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to Miles at all. I decided to call Anya and check up on her. Getting lost in the part of Indica made it easy to forget about the fucked-up reality of my real life, but I had to make sure my bestie and the girls were okay.

  “What’s up, Cat? How’s Jamaica?” Anya said when she picked up.

  “Work, work, and more work. I can’t even enjoy it. How’re you?”

  “I’m good, boo. How about I finally sold that damned expensive-ass condo in Greenwich Village! That commission check is going to be sweet. I’m thinking about taking the girls to Disney World.”

  “That sounds fun,” I told her.

  “Yeah, but I think I’ll wait until you get back. I want you to go with us.”

  “Okay. Hopefully, I’ll be getting a promotion soon and will have some extra time off.” Not wanting to bring up Trayvon, I did, anyway. “So, have you heard anything from Tray?”

  “No, and hopefully, he’ll stay away. I contacted my lawyer, and I’m going to file for divorce. We’re going to meet tomorrow to go over the details. I got my locks changed a few days ago. The girls are asking a lot of questions, but I’m trying to stay strong about it for them, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know, and you are strong. You got this.”

  She let out a sigh. “I hope so, because if not, getting him locked up was a bad decision, and if something happens to my babies, I won’t forgive myself.”

  “Don’t think like that. Just be careful and you’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, girl. I gotta go. The girls want me to help them make slime.”

  “Okay. Tell my babies I said hey and I’ll see them soon.”

  “Auntie Cat said hey, girls, and she will see you soon.”

  “Hey, Auntie Cat,” they yelled out in the background.

  A few minutes later Anya and I ended the call. That was a bittersweet conversation, and I couldn’t help but worry, despite the precautions I’d put in place. If something happened to Anya or the twins, I’d never forgive myself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gaza

  I sat on the patio, waiting for a very important call. This business that I was about to venture into weighed heavily on my mind. I’d done many deals, and I’d done business with niggas from all over the world, but it had always been me that made the move. I had never had anybody seek me out like this, so this kind of had me on edge.

  My phone started ringing. I wasted no time in grabbing it off the table.

  “Yo, talk to me, brethren.”

  “Boss, the package just arrived.”

  “Okay, good. Pay close attention and make sure you see where it will be delivered.”

  “All right, boss man.”

  “Killa, this one is a big deal, so mi need yuh fi pay attention, and don’t let the package out yuh sight.”

  “Say no more, boss man.”

  After I hung the phone up, I let out a long sigh of release. I had my men sitting at the Norman Manley International Airport, waiting for these Americans to come in. Unbeknownst to them, from the minute they landed, they would be trailed. I couldn’t be too careful.

  I dialed Leroy’s number.

  “Yo, boss man, wha yuh deh pon?” he said.

  “The people are here. The meeting is on fi tomorrow night. Mi need all the security and some niggas in the cut, just in case this shit is bogus.”

  “Say no more. I’m on it.”

  I felt relieved, knowing that I would have my street soldiers in place just in case some shit popped off....

  * * *

  “Babes, yuh good?” Camille quizzed as she entered the office, where I was sitting down, watching the closed-circuit monitors that showed the building’s entrance and exit.

  “Yeah, babes, I’m good,” I lied to her.

  I couldn’t include her in what I was doing. Camille was from the Gully, but she wasn’t no gangsta. Plus, in order for me to protect her, it was best that she knew less.

  “All right.”

  She turned and walked back out the door. I kept my eyes glued to the monitor that showed the entrance to the building. Killa had informed me that the two Americans would be pulling up in a late-model black BMW. The cameras were so high tech that they afforded me a crystal-clear street view. That way I would be able to see if there was any suspicious activity from these two.

  The scheduled time for the meeting was approaching. I grabbed my gun out of my waist and checked it. I had to make sure I was on point, just in case some shit popped off. If they were on any sort of bullshit, it was definitely going to go down.

  I turned my attention back to the monitor of the entrance. I looked closely as a black car pulled up. I looked closer and saw it was the black BMW that Killa had described.

  I got up, tucked my gun back into my waist, and made my way out the door. I motioned to Leroy, so he would know it was about to go down. I peeped Royal sitting at the bar, talking to one of the girls. I shot him a text to let him know it was showtime.

  I took a seat at the bar, where I could see everything that was taking place. I buried my head in my phone like I was busy, but all along I was watching everything from the corners of my eyes. I watched as a sexy bitch entered, with a nigga right behind her. Her tight outfit hugged her small frame, revealing her assets.

  Stay on track, Gaza, said a voice that popped in my head.

  Camille met them at the door, and there was an exchange of words. Camille headed toward me, with these strangers close on her heels. I didn’t know what had been said, but Camille didn’t look to pleased. After I got up and introduce myself to them, I introduced Camille as my woman to kind of ease the tension in the air. Camille was feeling some type of way, so I had to let her know it was cool. I then let her know I was about to handle business.

  Royal walked away from his company and headed over to us. Then Royal, the two Americans, Leroy, and two of my trusted top shotta niggas all followed me as I made my way to the office. I entered the room, not knowing what the fuck was going to take place.

  I motioned to Leroy to pat the Americans down. I had to make sure they were not wearing a wire. In case we missed something, I had had the office set up to block all transmissions.

  “Gaza, this is Indica and har brother, Sway. They’re the clients that are looking to do business wit’ us,” Royal said after we had all sat down.

  I nodded. “Yeah, we met briefly.”

  There was something about the woman, Indica. She was sexy, of course, but she was serious, barely smiled. I sat there analyzing everybody that was present at the table. I ain’t no Christian, but I remembered that Jesus sat at the table with the same nigga that betrayed him. I didn’t waste any time letting it be known that I had no intention of going back to prison. Royal jumped in immediately, cosigning for the people. There was no way I was just going to go off what another nigga was saying. I told them I needed twenty-four hours to make a decision. This would give me time to get their pics to my people to see if they had ever run across them before.

  * * *


  Later that night, after I had made it home, me and Camille had an argument.

  “Yo, where the gun that I gave you?” I asked with an attitude.

  I was pissed the fuck off that security had let a motherfucker get past them and that Camille had been put in harm’s way again.

  “The gun in the room.”

  “What the fuck did I tell you, yo! You need fi carry that motherfucker every fucking where you go. Which part of ‘I’m trying to keep yuh alive’ you don’t get, B?” I yelled.

  “Yuh need fi lower your fucking voice. Mi not yo’ pickney, so if yuh ago talk to me, you need to talk to me with sense.”

  “Camille, come here, mon. I’m sorry, but I’m pissed about the shit tonight. I didn’t even see that shit coming, and to make matters worse, that chick was the one that saved you. I’m your man. It should have been me.”

  I hugged her tight, grateful that I had got another chance with her. God knows it could’ve turned out differently tonight.

  * * *

  I was up bright and early. This was the day that I had told the Yankee them that I would give them an answer. I hit my nigga up in New York, the one that was supposed to be doing some deep research on these two.

  I sat waiting for my nigga Bigga Ford to pick up his phone. I knew him from way back when I used to hang in Mount Vernon. He’d been trapping back then, but when shit got sticky, he’d taken that trap money and put it into a security business. He got clients all over the world because he was so good at what he did. I was hoping that if there was a red flag, he would be able to put me on to it.

  “Gaza, my nigga, what’s good, fam?” he said when he finally picked up.

  “I can’t call it. I was hoping that you’ll hit me with something good.”

  “I got the file right here. Hold on a sec.”

  While I waited, I braced myself for whatever it was that he was going to tell me.

  After a minute or so, he said, “I done ran their names through more than one system. I even talk to a friend of mine that’s in the Bureau, and he don’t think they are associated with any kind of law enforcement.”

  “Hmm. Okay. So you think it’s safe to go ahead and do business with them?”