The War Report

by King Benjamin

  This is a VD Style Publication

  Copyright 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the publisher except brief quotes used in reviews. This is a work of fiction. Any reference or similarities to actual events, real people living or dead or real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, placed and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design: Mario Patterson

  Editor: Tina Nance

  Connect with King Benjamin:

  Facebook: Author King Benjamin

  Twitter: @kbwordplayz

  Dedications

  I’m dedicating this book to myself and to all those who believed in me and have supported me from the beginning. I’m also dedicating this book to everyone who dares to dream big. Impossible is nothing. I wrote this book from a cell with dreams of being an independent author and publisher, and here I am. Last, but not least, this book is dedicated to my crew who has my back no matter what. Detroit Authors Alliance: Lakelia Blackbyrd Deloach, India T Norfleet, Kenya Rivers, Danielle Marcus and Shanaetriis Jones. DAA for life!

  The War Report

  A King Benjamin novel

  King Benjamin Introduction

  So, the way the story goes, or at least the way it was told to me, is that back in the day around 1999, Bones and his brother, Dontae, robbed Mercedes Jay for two kilos of cocaine. It was supposed to be a regular transaction at the same location, just as they had done a hundred times before. Maybe that’s why it happened. Maybe Bones and Dontae felt stagnated dealing with Jay, and decided to up the stake and lay a paper play down. Anyway, the way the story goes, E was there with Jay, and both wound up duct taped and stretched out on the floor. No one saw the brothers after that, and it was rumored that they had relocated to Ohio and came up big with the drugs they took from Jay. So, when Dontae was found dead six years later in Detroit, the streets just assumed they knew who was behind it. But I don’t know nothing. You ain’t heard nothing from me.

  Chapter 1

  “Yes! Yes! Oh God, Jay. Yes!”

  Jay’s face was buried inside her pretty brown D cup melons as he gripped her soft, juicy bottom and plunged inside her with a hypnotic rhythm and fierce tenacity. He focused on the comfort of her walls as all the worry of the trial, which had begun to unhinge him, temporarily faded away. Sex was his meditation, and as he dug deeper inside her, he tugged her hair with both hands until her neckline was exposed. Like a hungry mad man, he mauled her neck, sucking and biting as he felt her body jolt and her legs shoot straight up in the air.

  She began to shudder.

  “Ooooh, Ooooh shit!”

  Her flowing juices brought him to the peak of a long building climax that erupted into his condom. The feeling was so good; he had to wonder if his condom had broken as he savored his last few strokes before pulling out and turning over. If this was my last piece of pussy, it was a good fuck, he thought to himself.

  For several minutes, they lay next to each other recovering in silence, with the exception of their heavily thumping hearts. They had been at it a since last night, only taking in a few hours of sleep. Now that it was over, Jay had no choice but to face reality. Without any words to his companion, he rose from the hotel bed and headed for the shower. He was thankful that she was there to comfort him, but honestly, she was just another piece of ass.

  He turned on the shower as he contemplated when was the last time he’d met a girl who had any real substance to her character. He couldn’t recall. They all wanted the notoriety that came with dating a boss like Mercedes Jay, as he was widely known, but none of them matched his nobility.

  Today was the big day, but then again, so was yesterday. His shoulders weighed a ton as he tried to maintain his composure. The jury was about to start the second day of deliberations in a murder trial that had been the basis of his entire existence for the past ten months. The hot steamy shower was therapeutic to his mind and body, so he lingered around for some time after he was done showering. Only when he realized he hadn’t heard from his co-defendant and right hand man, Gunner, did he decide to exit the shower. He came out of the bathroom in a towel and gave his booty call a head gesture that let her know the shower was open and he wanted her to get cleaned up and dressed.

  His Timex watch read 7:50am and court started at 9:00am. He refused to wear his presidential Rolex to court for the jury to speculate more than they already would, unlike Gunner, who showed up every time looking like a guilty verdict waiting to happen. He called up Gunner to make sure he was up and ready for the day. His girlfriend, Kelly, answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Good morning, Kelly.”

  “Hey, Jay, how you feeling, babe?”

  “I’m feeling pretty good. I just got it in with my one thang, ya dig,” he teased, trying to make light of the situation.

  “Boy, you is crazy,” Kelly said tickled to death. “Here go Keith.”

  “What up?” Gunner said. Although Gunner sounded as if he’d just woke up, Jay knew Gunner’s voice was always exceptionally groggy, so there was no way to know for sure, unless he asked.

  “You up, playboy?”

  “Hell yeah, I haven't been able to sleep.”

  “I know, man, me either. But we gonna be aiight though, you know?”

  “Fasho. I’m ’bout to gone get dressed, my nigga. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  “Bet.”

  Jay sounded confident, but he was truly more uncertain than he’d ever been in his whole life. His mind drifted off into a world of what ifs, and was only brought back when the young lady exited the bathroom wearing jeans and a lace bra.

  She marched over and stood glaring down at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I hope you don’t disappear again and don’t call me for another month,” she said, wearing her ‘I mean business’ face.

  “Baby girl, don’t worry about that. I’ma holla at you. After last night, you shouldn’t even have to ask,” he said.

  Jay had only met her a few months ago, and had never even told her about his lingering murder trial. She was nobody, and he didn’t feel the information would change anything, so it was pointless. She finished dressing and they parted with a hug and her placing a small kiss on Jay’s cheek. It was only after she left that he realized how little he actually knew about her.

  Since he was already downtown, he figured he had time to turn in his room key and maybe still get a bite to eat before heading to Frank Murphy Hall of Justice, where his future would most likely be determined today.

  __________

  Jay and Gunner arrived at the courthouse about five minutes apart. Gunner was dressed in a grey Armani suit with dark Armani shades and matching shoes. The suit made his shoulders even broader than they were, and the heel on the loafers gave his 5’10” frame another half inch. Gunner had mocha brown skin and a shadow beard that added maturity to his face as he approached his late twenties. His barber always did a good job of concealing his receding hairline, the only thing he was ever self-conscious about.

  Kelly gripped his hand, trying to keep up with the fast pace of his walk through the lobby. Her long silky hair bounced off her shoulders and her black ruffled skirt clung to her thighs, rising with each step, as she matched the sense of urgency in her man’s stride.

  “Vandyke down!” he heard a familiar voice yell.

  That stopped Gunner in his tracks as he was about to reach the elevator. He looked back and saw his man, Lines, had just come through the metal detectors, followed by Bake, E and J-Rock. He stormed back toward Lines as he saw that security about to approach and complain about the noise.

  “I got him,” he said, h
olding a hand at security. The man nodded as Gunner met up with Lines in the middle of the lobby.

  “What’s up, my nigga, you good?”

  “Nigga, you can’t be yelling no shit like that out up here, where you think you at?”

  “Man, fuck these crackers. I’ma made nigga,” Lines rebutted as he grabbed his dick and bopped through the lobby, meaning every word of it. As the rest of the crew caught up with them, they all gave pounds and hugs to Gunner before heading toward the elevator.

  Inside the courtroom, they quickly spotted Jay’s tall dark frame already at the defense desk conversing with one of their lawyers. When Jay spotted Gunner, he couldn’t help but shake his head at his friend’s naivety. Throughout the entire trial, Jay thought he looked a lot less like a murderous drug dealer than his friend did. Jay wore no jewelry, just a three piece Joseph A. Banks suit and Prada loafers, along with a Timex watch.

  Sitting a few feet away from him, Gunner rocked a thirty thousand dollar Rolex and a seven thousand dollar pinky ring. What could he say? Gunner was his own man. On the outside looking in, it appeared that Gunner was the boss, but truthfully, there was no boss. Keith and Jason were childhood friends with a mutual respect for each other. If it wasn’t for Gunner’s excessive gambling and spending habits, he’d have just as much money as Jay. However, being that Jay was the one who had accumulated the most financial security, the whole crew moved under his command, with everyone making the team’s well-being a top priority.

  Jay cracked a smile as his favorite cousin, Neicey Girl, entered the courtroom, but his smile was quickly erased when the family of the victim, Dontae, family entered the courtroom seconds later. Jay and Gunner were both free on one hundred and fifty thousand dollar bonds. That alone raised the eyebrows of those following the case. None of the victim’s family had bothered to attend the trial, but they all showed up for the verdict, praying that the men they believed had taken their loved one away would suffer the harshest penalty available; life without the possibility of parole.

  As the jury went into deliberation for the second day, Jay wondered if Dontaes’s family had skipped out on the trial out of fear or lack of concern.

  “Stanking bitch,” he mumbled, as he shot a cold stare at Dontae’s sister, Trina.

  She was the only reason they were even arrested in the first place. Telling the police that Jay and Gunner had a contract on her brothers’ heads, and being the lone witness that claimed to see Jay’s navy blue Benz hauling ass out of the gas station parking lot right after the shooting had been enough to secure a warrant. Police were able to place them at the scene, but no other evidence was brought forth linking them to the actual shooting.

  They took it to trial and his lawyer argued that anybody would have taken off in hurry under the circumstances. He argued that although his license plate matched the description given to police, and he and Gunner were videotaped inside the station, no one could swear under oath to seeing them actually shoot anyone. Now, his fate lay in the hands of twelve strangers, and he wondered if it was all worth it as his mind drifted back to the night the whole beef started.

  It was 1998, and Jay and E lay face down in the weight house hog-tied with duct tape. Their situation was the result of putting too much trust in the wrong niggas. He had let Bones and Dontae see too much. He had let them get too comfortable with his crew. They had made a lot of money together, but it seemed that this was in the plans all along.

  “You bitch niggas better hope we find what we looking for,” Dontae barked, wielding a Mac-11 as he and Bones ransacked the house.

  Jay swore that if he made it out alive, he’d kill them both, no matter how long it took. It was the first and only time he ever feared for his life, but he never forgot the feeling.

  He was brought back to the present by his lawyer’s voice.

  “Hey guys, how you holding up?” Jay heard him say.

  Dan Marsh was one of the most recognizable names in Michigan when it came to criminal defense. He was a short stocky man who was half-Italian, and favored the actor, Dustin Hoffman. He was a man of results, but his suits looked straight off the rack, and his shoes appeared to have been worn to every single court appearance for the last three years.

  “I’m holding up,” Jay assured him.

  “I’m good,” Gunner said, always the cool head.

  Dan had another lawyer from his firm helping with the case, but he was doing almost all the cross-examination.

  “Well, listen guys,” he said as he motioned for the two of them to huddle up with him. “I just wanna say, I know you’re probably a little frustrated with playing the waiting game here, but I gotta tell ya, the longer this jury deliberates, the more I like our chances. The longer this thing plays out, it’s more likely that this verdict is gonna come back in your favor. Umm, like I stated several times already, I really don’t think the prosecution has proven this case beyond a reasonable doubt. So, when the jury steps back into this room, I don’t wanna see any long faces. Show no fear. I want you to look as if you expect to be exonerated.”

  If nothing else, the pep talk had Jay and Gunner feeling more optimistic than they had five minutes before it. Dan’s mouthpiece was his money. He was very convincing, and Jay believed he was worth every penny they had spent to hire him.

  __________

  Bones had waited six years for this. After completing the mandatory six of his twelve-year sentence for a second degree murder charge in Ohio, he was finally free to go. From all observations and information, it seemed that Bones was born with a black heart. Prison had only made him colder. Bones was twenty-nine years old, and he got his name from his tall, lanky frame and always being so frail growing up. His skin was black like coal, and his eyes were constantly bloodshot red, even when he was stone sober. As time passed, Bones’ nickname was thought to be in reference to the dead bodies he’d accumulated throughout his stint on the streets. Of course, Bones never clarified were the name came from, leaving most to make their own assumptions.

  He had no plans to stick around in Ohio, his time was done and he wanted out. His plan was to get the parole transferred to his hometown of Detroit, Michigan, but if the plans took longer than he expected, he would say fuck parole all together and just leave. Bones had revenge, money and murder on his mind, and he was itching to get back to the place where he could make it happen. He knew who was responsible for his brother, Dontae’s death. If Mercedes Jay was lucky enough to beat the charge, he’d be waiting around the corner to deal him and his whole Vandyke crew his own brand of justice. As Bones sat up in the control center waiting, still wearing prison clothes, his mind traveled back to his darkest day; the day he got the word of Dontae’s death.

  “I have something to tell you, but I need you to promise me you won’t lose it in there, okay?” his sister Trina had said, knowing Bones was going to flip.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Bones, promise me you will try your best to handle this, okay? We need you to come home, so just please promise me, okay?”

  “Man, just tell me what happened.” Bones ordered.

  “Dontae was shot five times last night at the gas station. He’s dead, Bones.”

  Bones banged the phone against the wall, cracking the receiver. He could hear his sister screaming his name as he walked away from the phone station.

  Bones knew who had killed his brother; everybody knew. Twice in the head, once in the neck, and two in the shoulder. He contemplated how he would administer pain to the first of many that would feel his wrath. His only regret was not killing Jay and E when he had a chance. It was Dontae’s idea to let them live. But for the life of him, he didn’t understand what had made Dontae go back to Detroit and not take care of the unfinished business. They had come up off the two keys they took from Jay, but the word on the streets was that the two keys was like chump change to Jay now. Bones didn’t care about Jay’s money; he was out for blood.

  __________

  The word came back in two h
ours in that there was a verdict. Jay took in a deep breath as the overweight court bailiff began to speak.

  “All rise… the honorable judge Andrew Strong presiding. You maybe be seated.”

  As the Caucasian judge in his late fifties took the chair and straightened his glasses, Jay peeked back at his crew one last time. They looked more nervous than he was. E was stroking his three sixty waves obsessively. Lines was biting his nails and bouncing one knee up and down on the floor, while Bake sat with one elbow on each thigh stroking his goatee. J-Rock sat with his head down, and he looked as if he was praying.

  The female foreperson handed the bailiff a small folded paper, and the bailiff hobbled up to the judge to pass it along.

  “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

  “Yes we have, your honor,” the foreperson said, standing extremely erect.

  “How do you find?”

  “In the case of the people vs. Jason Burks and Keith Randall, on the charge of First Degree Murder, we the people find the defendants, not guilty.”

  Mixed reactions rippled through the crowd from the victim’s family along and Jay and Gunner’s family and friends. The judge banged the gavel in order to silence the courtroom, and the foreperson continued.

  “In the case of the people vs. Jason Burks and Keith Randall, on the charge of Felony Possession of a Firearm, we the people, find the defendants not guilty.”

  Continued gasps and cheers were allowed after the full verdict was read, but the judge banged his gavel again, once the courtroom seemed to be in an uproar.

  “Order! Order!”

  Jay’s crew looked on, mean mugging the family of the victim as they left the court spewing derogatory language at the jury. Jay and Gunner embraced Dan, and the three of them patted each other on the back.

  “Good job, Dan, I knew you could do it. I knew you could,” Jay said.

  “Hey you guys, just stay out of trouble for me, okay? It’s no fun having your whole life in the hands of people who don’t even know you, ya know what I mean?”