“I’m glad you made it, Agent Reed. I have great news for you, despite what you’re going through. After this announcement, I really want you to take the day off. Well, that’s after you go sign the paperwork for Gaza’s arrest. They got him. He’s already at the jail. Well, him and his organization. You did a great job, Reed. That’s why you’re being promoted.” He passed me a badge with my name on it that gleamed in the light.
As much as I wanted that promotion, it was bittersweet. “Thank you, Special Agent Morris.”
“No need to thank me. You did all the hard work.”
I headed directly to the jail after I left my superior’s office. Once I arrived there, I signed the paperwork for Gaza’s and his men’s arrest. It felt as if I was on autopilot as I exited the room where I had had to meet with the authorities that were taking over their custody. On my way out, I ran into Gaza, off all people, in shackles, handcuffs, and his state-issued khakis. A guard walked with him. He glared at me, with an evil smirk on his face, but didn’t utter a word. Avoiding his eyes, I knew what he really wanted to say. At that point, he knew that I was a Fed and that I was the one who had brought down him and his crew. In his eyes, I saw the seed of vengeance being planted. What he didn’t know was that I’d lost so much, just as he had. There was nothing I could do about it but live with the consequences.
One other thing that Gaza didn’t know was . . . if I really were Indica, we’d be living in that mansion in the hills of Jamaica, taking over the world.
Chapter Twenty-two
Gaza
This was a night of celebration up in the mansion in Beverly Hills. The Big Man was so impressed by the amount of coke we moved and the money that was made, he had opened up his place for a night of partying. Bad bitches were everywhere: in the pool, in the house. It was a sight to see. The entire crew had been invited, which was a first, because up until now Leroy and I were the only ones he would meet face-to-face.
“Yo, Father, I’m glad you decide to do business wit’ Indica and Sway,” Leroy said as we sat across from each other, enjoying the breeze. “Look how much bloodclaat money we bring in over the last month or so. Jah know, star, I never know so much money was in coke until you and Gio show me how the thing set.”
“Yo, only thing fucked is that Gio isn’t here to celebrate with us. Jah know, star, I miss that nigga.”
“You not the only one, Father. That nigga is missed. Everywhere I go, bitches and niggas always come up to me and tell me how much them miss Gio. Them bwoy deh take out a real youth for real, yo.”
I nodded. “Big facts. But it’s our night to celebrate, so let’s kind of ease our mind a little.”
“This where y’all niggas hiding out,” Royal said as he stepped out onto the porch, where Leroy and I were sitting.
“What’s good, nigga? I thought you was flying out tonight,” I said.
“And miss this celebration? Hell nah. I see we young millionaires up in this bitch.”
We exchanged daps, and he took a seat with Leroy and me. Something was bothering me, though.... Royal was supposed to be back in the States, so why was he here? I looked at him sitting there, chatting up a storm, but I felt that something was off. He seemed nervous. Like, he was talking, but he was not making any eye contact.
Maybe the alcohol was making me paranoid. I took a long pull out of my weed.
“So tell me, Royal, what’s next, nigga?” I asked him.
Before I could get an answer . . .
“US marshals! Get down! Get down! Get down!”
I jumped up out of my seat and ran to the wall that enclosed the property. I climbed up, avoiding the barbed wire, and peered over. There had to be over a hundred SUVs and cars surrounding the property.
I jumped down, returned to the porch, and looked at Royal and then at Leroy. . . . Only one Judas was on that porch.
“You set me up, pussy?” I grabbed my Glock and pointed it at this nigga’s dome.
“Gaza, no! I don’t know what you talking ’bout, fam—”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
His body fell to the ground, blood splattering all over the white polo shirt that I had on....
“I love you, my nigga,” I said to Leroy. “We’ve been here before, in this same predicament, so we both know this is it for us—”
“Fuck that! I ain’t going out like this,” Leroy said as he ran to the door, waving a handgun.
“Put the fucking gun down,” yelled a big white dude with a US marshal badge around his neck. He had a gun pointed dead at Leroy.
“Go suck you muma, white boy,” Leroy said as he started squeezing the trigger. I watched as my nigga’s body got riddled with bullets. I had to say that over thirty shots were fired into his body.
“Drop the fucking gun and get the fuck down, Donavan, aka Gaza,” another dude yelled.
“We got the big fish, on the porch. We got Donavan!” shouted the big white dude who had shot Leroy.
Within seconds, around fifty marshals and police officers swarmed the porch.
I knew there wasn’t no way out. I looked at the pussy nigga standing in front of me, smiled, and put the gun down. I then put my hands in the air....
They quickly tackled me to the ground. One nigga put his foot in my back, as if I was resisting. I really wasn’t.
They cuffed me and dragged me out. When we got outside, all my squad were also in cuffs, including the Big Man. He looked at me and shook his head.
I turned my head. What could I do? I did bring all this into his life, into my life....
Camille was the only thing I could think about....
Epilogue
Camille
I got up to use the bathroom, and when I came back into the bedroom, I realized Gaza hadn’t made it home. I sat down on the edge of the bed. cut the light on, and grabbed my phone. It was well after 4:00 a.m. and the club was closed, so where the hell was the man? I had worked earlier, but I’d had a bad headache, so I’d come home early. The last time we spoke, it had been around 10:00 p.m. and he’d been in the car with Leroy. Matter of fact, he’d said they were on their way to a party. I hadn’t asked where. Instead, I had told him that I loved him and then had hung up the phone....
I grabbed the remote and cut the television on. There wasn’t much on, until breaking news came on.... “Federal marshals, along with the Jamaica Defense Force, took down major drug kingpin Donavan, aka Gaza, hours ago.”
The phone fell on the floor as I stood up and ran to the television.
“Nooo!” I screamed as I fell to the floor. “Oh, Lord, this can’t be true . . .”
* * *
My head was spinning, and I couldn’t breathe. I needed to think. I jumped out of the bed. I ran to the safe. Think, Camille. Think . . . Gaza had told me this code over and over again, just in case something like this were to happen.
After two failed tries, the safe popped open. My eyes popped open, too, as I had never seen so much fucking money in my life before. Not Jamaican dollars, but American dollars. I rushed back to the bedroom and grab a duffel bag that Gaza had in the closet. I rushed back to the safe and started throwing money in the duffel as fast as my hands would allow me.
I then dragged the heavy-ass bag into the kitchen and grabbed my car keys. Then I stepped into the garage and hit the button to open the garage door....
“Get the fuck down, miss! Get down now!”
“God, please help me,” I whispered as the tears started rolling down my face.
I dropped to my knees as they stormed into my life....
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Carl Weber's Kingpins: Jamaica Page 20