Prison Politics
Page 11
All the Triple-Deuces in the room nodded their heads in agreement. But Brady’s steely gaze stayed on Raheem. Suspicion lingered in his eyes. Raheem thought the man would jump up and slit his throat right on the spot.
“Who did you get to bring the shit in anyways?”
“Come on, Brady,” Raheem groaned. “You know I can tell you that. I’d be no better than Javier snitching and shit. Fuck up what little pull I got in this bitch.”
“Flip said he saw you and that faggot nigga Abdul with the guard during the riot. Maybe you got him to bring the shit in here for saving his life. Maybe he bitched up in the last minute and dropped the dime, trying to look good on his first day back.”
“I wasn’t with that nigga,” Raheem said evenly. “I don’t know what Flip think he saw.”
Brady stood up and got in Raheem’s face. “Fine, if he wasn’t the nigga that hooked you up then you won’t mind if the bitch is taken out.”
Raheem shrugged. He tried to look like he didn’t care but the panic he felt was overwhelming. He didn’t know why he cared about them trying to kill Xavier but he did. Raheem knew he had to find a way to warn the man before it was too late. These dudes had gone off the deep end. They declared war on the Spanish Disciples and now they were trying to off a guard.
“Good,” Brady said. A sinister grin covered his wrinkled face. “You’re going to kill that nigga. I want him dead before the end of the fucking day, understand?” Raheem nodded, not knowing what to say. “Cause if he’s not gone then your little bitch ass will be. Now get the fuck out my cell.”
Raheem left as quickly as his feet would allow him. He didn’t want to give Brady any reason to change his mind and take him out too. The walk back to his cell was the longest he’d ever made. He wanted to scream and punch something but he knew he couldn’t. He just walked out of a cell with a bunch of Triple Deuces. Dozens of eyes were on him.
“What happened?” Abdul asked as soon as Raheem came back in the cell. “Do they think you snitched?”
“I don’t know,” Raheem mumbled. He paced back and forth in the small cell. “But them niggas want me dead. I know that much.”
“Did Brady say he was going to kill you? Naw, you wouldn’t be here if he said that shit. Raheem, what the fuck did they say to you?”
“They know the fucking CO is the one that called in the shakedown. That stupid nigga Flip saw us with the CO during the riot. Brady knows he’s the one that brought the shit in.”
“You didn’t tell him that, did you? He’ll kill you and me.”
“Naw nigga,” Raheem shouted. “Why the fuck would I tell that nigga who I got bringing me shit? I denied that shit. And I told him we wasn’t nowhere near that motherfucker during the riot. So you better keep the story straight.”
Abdul nodded with extra enthusiasm. “Please tell me why you so damned worried? You making me nervous.”
Raheem stopped pacing and said, “They want Xavier dead. And they want me to kill him before the day is over.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yea,” Raheem said. The weight of what was being asked of him crashed into him all over again. “Oh, fuck. I’m fucking dead.”
“If you get caught they’ll give you the death penalty. And if you did get life you’d be in Hell dealing with COs who know what you did. What the fuck are you going to do?”
“Man, I really don’t know.” Raheem sat on the bottom bunk and pressed his face in his hands. “If I don’t do the shit, them niggas are going to fucking kill me. If I do it, there aint no way I’m not going to get caught. The guards will kill me or beat my ass damn near to death.”
“You can’t kill Xavier.”
“Why the fuck can’t I?” Raheem asked, annoyed. “If I can do that shit without no one finding out I’m free as a fucking bird.”
“You’ll still be behind these bars and you’ll still have to do what Brady says. What happens when he asks you to bring in more drugs and you can’t cause Xavier is dead? What if he wants you to take out another guard? He’ll figure you did it once and can probably do it again. Shit is a slippery slope.”
“Abdul, I have to do something. Sitting still isn’t a fucking option. Someone has to die today and I promise you it’s not going to be me.”
“You have to kill Brady,” Abdul said plainly. “Killing him is the only way out.”
“How the fuck am I going to do that? He’s always surrounded by his people. That old nigga might only have one good eye but he’s vicious as Hell with a knife. Shit, I don’t even have anything to kill the man with even if I want to off him.”
“You can’t do it alone. Xavier might can help.”
“How’s a fucking CO going to kill an inmate? He wouldn’t go for that shit even if I begged while sucking his dick.”
“It won’t hurt to ask. He’s the one that started this shit between the Spanish Disciples and Triple Deuces. He has a plan.”
“Fuck that nigga’s plan. How was Brady knowing what he did part of his plan?”
Abdul shrugged. “I don’t know. But you’re going to have to find out.”
“And what the fuck do I do until he gets here? His shift doesn’t start for another seven and a half hours. I’m not about to sit here and wait for them niggas to come for me hoping and praying that a fucking cop can somehow save my black ass. Fuck that.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
Raheem shook his head. What was he going to do? Every option seemed impossible. Killing a nobody nigga was hard enough. But going after a gang leader or a guard was suicide. For the first time in his short stint in the prison, he considered the possibility that he might never step foot out of these walls. The three years he had been counting down was now a life sentence.
A baton hitting the cell window snatched Raheem from his troubled thoughts. The guard pushed the door open and said, “Lieutenant Patterson wants to see you.”
Raheem stood up and shook his head. Everyone wanted to see him today. It was like he had won a popularity contest that had a grand prize of a painful death. He followed the guard to the Lieutenant’s office. He already knew what bullshit lay ahead.
“Have a seat, inmate Jones,” the gray lieutenant said as he waved off the escorting officer. The man didn’t speak until the door shut. “What the fuck is going on in my block?”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Raheem said. “You know I keep my head down and mind my own business. I want no part of the drama these cats carry.”
“Bullshit, son. I don’t like little fuckers like you lying to me. Everyone knows you’ve been cozy with the Triple Deuces since the riot. You really going to sit there and tell me that there aint a damn thing happening between them and those Spanish fucks?”
“You’re asking me questions that you already know the answer to,” Raheem said. The old man level a steely stare in his direction. “Sir.”
Lieutenant Patterson leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his chest. He looked at Raheem, studying his face as if the answers he sought would magically appear on his forehead if he looked hard enough. It must not have worked. He stood up and went to the window.
“You know how a prison is run?”
“I have no idea, sir.”
“A prison is kept functional and safe when there is a balance. We can’t get rid of gang members unless they are verified. So, we try to spread them to keep a balance. Usually that balance keeps them from killing each other. No one has an advantage. Keeping that balance is key. Having men like you to give me information helps that balance. That’s why we do favors for each other.”
“Last time you told me that chaos kept a prison running.”
“The occasional chaos. That little gun stunt got us over ten million more dollars to go towards pay, training and gear that will keep my guards safe from you fucks.”
“And I thought you was just doing me a favor for a favor.”
Lieutenant Patterson grinned. “We all have our needs, inmate Jones. R
ight now I need information.”
“You’re not the only one that has needs,” Raheem countered. “The last guy you sent to protect me is dead. I’m flapping in the wind here.”
“I can’t help you with that. It took a lot to get that gorilla to watch over your ass. From what I hear it wasn’t an easy job. I doubt anyone would want it again after your last cellmate died. How’s the new one working out?”
Raheem grinned. “He has his uses.”
Lieutenant Patterson chuckled. “I’m sure he does. We need to come to an agreement, Raheem.”
Raheem’s ears perked up. The Lieutenant never used his first name unless he was desperate. The higher ups must been putting pressure on him. For once, Raheem finally had the upper hand.
Before the scheming could form words in Raheem’s mouth, the lieutenant said, “I spoke to the parole board and they’ve agreed to move your parole hearing up. I was able to get three other officers to write recommendations along with mine. You could be out of here within a year.”
Raheem slunk back into his seat. Joy was quickly eclipsed by a savage anger. Three years had just turned into a year but it didn’t matter. By the end of the day he would either be dead or facing the death penalty. Freedom was knocking on his door but there was no handle. Just a keyless deadbolt.
“I need your help,” Raheem admitted. Snitching wasn’t something he ever did. He’d give the old man bits and pieces before but this was different. His life was on the line. So was his freedom. “Your boy is the one that got the niggas and spicks ready to throw down.”
“Who? Officer Brown?”
Raheem nodded. “I begged him to bring me some supply to slip to the Triple Deuces cause them niggas was threatening to kill me. But when he gave it to me he called in a shakedown. Even made it look like that dude Javier was the one that snitched.”
Lieutenant Patterson leaned back, his eyes wide from disbelief. He took a moment to process the information dump Raheem had just poured on him. Slowly, his face frowned as he looked back up at Raheem.
“Explain how you’re in trouble.”
Raheem took a deep breath. He knew he could have conspiracy charges brought up on him for what he was about to say but he didn’t have a choice. It was either lay it all out on the line or die fighting niggas or COs.
“Brady said that if I don’t kill Officer Brown then he’ll kill me. He’s getting ready to kill as many of the Spanish Disciples as he can. That nigga has lost it.”
“You don’t want to kill Officer Brown, do you?”
“No,” Raheem said plainly. “What kind of question is that? I don’t want to kill nobody. I use to sling rock from my grandma’s house down in Decatur. I’m not some trap boy ready to take a nigga’s life. I made my money, got pussy and took care of the woman that raised me.”
“Why did Officer Brown bring you the drugs in the first place? Money?”
Raheem shook his head. He looked down at his hands. If he looked the lieutenant in the face he knew the old man would figure it all out. He probably already had.
“How long you two been fucking?”
“Look,” Raheem said, trying not to raise his voice. “Can you help me or not? What else do you need to know?”
“As long as you’ve told me everything we’re good. Now, before I do anything to help your criminal ass you know what you have to do.”
Raheem gritted his teeth and stared at the man. He loathed the monthly toll the old man had taken for all the money on his books and other perks like being able to see his girl for conjugal visits even though they weren’t married. Every time he was called to the lieutenant’s office, Raheem promised himself he’d put the shit to a stop. But losing all that he had managed to squeeze out the man would be too painful and hit. And how could he deny the man who had delivered a twelve month stint instead of a three-year sentence. He just had to trust that the man would make moves to make sure he wasn’t in a coffin by the time lights went out.
Raheem got on his hands and knees. He crawled over behind the desk and worked his way between the lieutenant’s legs. The old man already had his ugly, uncut meat poking through the zipper of his pants. He stroked his thick shaft, pulling back the wrinkly foreskin each time. Raheem didn’t think about it. He just took the man in the mouth and did what was required.
Fifteen minutes later Raheem was back in his cell, hunkered over the commode throwing up. He refused to allow that man’s seed stay in his body. Lieutenant Patterson had gone overboard this time. Sometimes he made Raheem swallow, but this time he yanked the inmate’s head down on his dick when he busted. Raheem was still wiping nut snot from his nostrils.
Abdul busted into the cell and asked, “What happened with the lieutenant? Did he think you were the one that brought the drugs in?”
“No,” Raheem lied. The lieutenant knew because he had told him. “That old fucker just trying to scare a nigga trying to get information. Everyone knows a war between them niggas is about to pop off and he was trying to find out what was going on. What you heard while I was gone.”
Abdul shrugged. “Not much. But based on the evil look the Spanish Disciples keep giving every black person they see, I’m sure they know it wasn’t one of their own that put Javier down. When they hit, anyone with skin darker than theirs and can’t speak, is a dead man.”
“Fuck,” Raheem cussed. “That nigga really got shit all the way fucked up. And he sitting at home safe and fucking sound.”
“Are you alright?” Abdul asked. He kneeled beside Raheem. “I got some commissary if you need to put something in your stomach that will stay down.”
“I’ll be fine, nigga,” he barked. “When all this shit is over, I’ll be fine.”
“So you got a plan yet? The Triple Deuces aren’t going to wait for Gustavo to make a move. And they going to be all over your ass when Xavier gets here.”
A light went off in Xavier’s head. It was a long shot but it was worth it. “What time is it?”
“A little after one. Why, wassup?”
“Gustavo cleans the solitary cells, right? That’s his job?”
“Yea. Why?”
Raheem ignored all the boy’s questions. He had to move quickly if he wanted to get a chance to speak to Gustavo alone. Raheem had to grease a wheel first. He went to the station and told the blond guard on duty that he had needed to see a doctor. It was their little code word. He would bang her back out in one of the bathrooms that no one ever used and she’d give him a little favor. It was perfect to arrange a met and greet with Gustavo.
The horny guard creamed on Raheem’s dick four times before she came all over his shit. It was so thick, it looked like the young prisoner had sprayed shaving cream all over his pubes. She offered to suck him off and swallow his nut but Raheem was too distracted to think about busting a nut. He needed to take care of some business that would hopefully save his life.
No one made a sound on the hall of the solitary units where Gustavo worked. Raheem knew that this particular block had some asshole guards. If you made noise or kicked on the door you’d get scrapes for food. And sometimes the water in your cell might stop for a few days. Horror stories of how prisoners had to drink the toilet water with shit in it were told often behind those prison walls.
Blonde walked him up to the cell Gustavo was cleaning. The Mexican thug stared the two of them down like he would tear each of them apart, limb by limb, with his bare teeth. Even the guard flinched at the menacing glare he leveled at them. She looked at them and said they had twenty minutes before she would be back.
“What the fuck you want, nigga?” Gustavo cursed. “You know I aint got shit to say to you or anyone else you fuck with. You black motherfuckers are dead.”
His eyes got wide and crazy as he dragged the back of his thumb over his throat. Raheem didn’t need an explanation as to what the gesture meant. He ignored the comment and stepped inside the cell with Gustavo and closed the door. There was no way to get out until Blonde came back for him.
“You don’t really have a choice. Your boys cut up my cousin like he was one of these nobody motherfuckers that can just be dropped. Now, I’m going to cut down every nigga I see.”
“Brady had your cousin killed.”
“You act like that’s some shit I didn’t know. My homeboi and one of them white boys saw your dude Flip leaving Javier’s cell. Next thing you know, my fam is dead, bleeding on the fucking ground.”
“So you’re going to kill a bunch of niggas and get your boys caught up because of what one nigga did. Two if you count the man that ordered him to do it.”
Gustavo shrugged his massive shoulders. “You know how this shit works. I retaliate and get the motherfuckers that killed my cousin and your people only going to come back. The train done already started. The shit aint stopping no times soon. Not until there’s no one left to kill.”
“Do you know why Brady had your cousin killed?”
The Spanish gangster’s eyes flared with hate. He walked up to Raheem and sized him up. Gustavo looked like was ready to bust Raheem right in the face. Raheem was sure he’d do it if it would make him feel any better. The message was clear: Gustavo wanted an answer to the question.
“One of the guards set him up,” Raheem explained. “Made it look like Javier was the one that snitched on Twist when I passed him some work.”
Gustavo poked his thick finger in Raheem’s chest. “You the one that got my cousin killed.”
“Chill,” Raheem hissed. “I aint say shit to no one. I’m not the one that made the Triple Deuces think he was the snitch.”
“But aint you a Triple Deuce now? Aint you been riding with them niggas since the riot. Since your bodyguard was taken out?”
“I do what I need to do to stay alive,” Raheem explained. “I got that guard Marco to bring me some weed and pills in. He saw me give it to Twist and called in the code. You know he be acting all cool with Javier, promising him shit. Set that boy up. Fucking wrong.”