The Mike Black Saga Volume 2

by Roy Glenn

  The crowd began to chant, “P, P, P …”

  “A’ight, a’ight. You’ve seen him on 106 and Park and his new single is blowing up the radio every day! Impressions very proudly welcomes to the stage, New York’s own, P-Harlem!”

  The crowd went wild and continued to chant, “P, P, P …” as P-Harlem slowly walked across the stage, escorted by two of his dancers and struck a pose for the crowd as the chanting continued, “P, P, P …”

  “Thank you, Impressions, thank you,” P-Harlem said as he grabbed the mic. “Y’all too good to me.”

  The chanting continued, “P, P, P …”

  “Y’all ready to set this bitch on fire!” P-Harlem shouted.

  The crowd continued to chant, “P, P, P …” and the beat began.

  Niggaz ain’t shit to me, truth is, ya crew ain’t hot,

  Y’all boyz are sloppy and ya crew don’t pop

  We can bang out, Let them things out, my crew don’t stop

  How you gangster, runnin’ for safety like Ronnie Lott

  Meanwhile, outside the club, in the parking lot the argument had begun as planned.

  “Who the fuck do you think you talkin’ to me like that?” the woman yelled. “I’m a mutha fucking lady, you sorry ass mutha fucka.”

  “I’m talkin’ to you, bitch!” the man yelled back.

  “I know you don’t think that just because you bought me a few drinks, that means that you gonna get some of this pussy! It takes a whole hell of a lot more than a couple of drinks to get this pussy!” she screamed.

  “What do it take then, baby?”

  “It takes a lot more than you got,” she said and laughed in his face.

  “How the fuck you know what I got?”

  All I’m tryin’ to do is make that cash, put it in my stash

  But I see Niggaz want me to fail

  I can’t do that homie, thought I proved that

  New coupe, same color as a taco shell

  Hop out nigga with the stroke, bitches ready to fuck

  Outside the club, the argument was beginning to get loud, and as expected, one of the officers walked over to see what all the noise was about.

  Niggaz looking from the side

  Hatin’ approach me on that battle shit

  I was like what go on fear factor nigga

  And eat some buffalo nuts cause this shit not for you

  See my life, look at the obstacles of Oz

  “Get your muthafuckin’ hands off of me!” the woman yelled. As the officer approached, the woman took out her gun, a 22 caliber automatic. “I’ll kill you!” she screamed and fired two shots at the ground.

  Hearing the gunshots, all three officers ran toward the sound, leaving the front door unprotected. The cop approached with his gun drawn.

  “Drop the gun!”

  The woman dropped the gun and put her hands up.

  “What’s going on over here?” the cop asked as the other two officers arrived on the scene.

  They immediately separated the woman from the man. “Y’all need to lock her up! That bitch is crazy.”

  “I ain’t crazy and I ain’t no bitch. This sorry ass mutha fucka was trying to feel on me!”

  “So you shot at him?”

  “No, I was just trying to scare him with the gun, and it went off by accident.”

  Back inside the club, four armed men in ski masks came through the front door.

  “Nobody moves and nobody gets hurt.”

  One of the men stayed near the door so he could watch the cops. One of the men moved quickly down the hallway leading to the club. Since the show had everybody in the clubs attention, it was easy. One of the robbers put his gun to security’s head.

  “Get down on the floor and don’t move or say shit,” the gunman instructed.

  Youngin’ making power moves, Johnson and Johnson

  You see what that powder do

  Help a nigga stack some Frito lays,

  You need to put ya punks away

  Pitching on the block so long, I call him Satchel Paige

  The fourth man shoved his gun in the face of the woman who was working the register.

  “Put all the money in the bag and I won’t kill you.”

  The woman quickly complied with the gunman’s orders and filled the bag with all the money that was left in the register and handed the bag back to him. With the money in hand, all four bandits backed out the door. Once they were gone, security got up from the ground and called the office on his headset.

  “Tara, Tara!”

  “This is Tara; what’s up?”

  “We just got robbed.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Mike and Bobby made their way through the crowd at Impressions and went upstairs to Bobby’s office. The club was still packed. Since the robbery took place during the show, none of the crowd knew about it.

  Once they got to the office, Tara explained to them how it went down and how much the bandits came away with. After Tara left the office, they reviewed the front door security tapes. It wasn’t too long after that that Nick and Wanda came into the office together, laughing. It raised an eyebrow, as both Mike and Bobby wondered what they were doing together at this hour of the night.

  “What’s going on?” Nick asked as he and Wanda sat down.

  “We got robbed tonight,” Bobby answered.

  “How much did they get?” Wanda asked.

  “Two grand,” Bobby told them.

  “That’s all?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah, we got lucky,” Bobby said. “Just before the robbery Tara took twenty thousand dollars off the front door register.”

  “Any idea who they were?” Nick asked.

  “See for yourself,” Bobby said and pointed to the monitor. “There they are.”

  Nick and Wanda watched the recording of the robbery. Once it was done, Wanda asked, “Where were the police? I don’t see the police anywhere.”

  “They were drawn away from the door by a drunk couple arguing in the parking lot,” Bobby told them. “The woman fired a couple of shots and the police came running.”

  “You think they were in on it?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t know. The cops told Tara that they just took the gun from her and sent the two of them home.”

  “You think there’s any connection with this robbery and everything else that’s going on?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Bobby said. “What would Curl have to gain by robbing the club?”

  “You mean other than money,” Nick threw in.

  “You’re kinda quiet about all this, Mike,” Wanda said noticing that he hadn’t said a word since she and Nick came into the office. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know what to think about this, Wanda,” Mike said and walked over to the bar. “But I will tell you this, the objective wasn’t money.”

  “What makes you say that?” Wanda asked.

  “If the objective was money they woulda waited until the club closed, waited until somebody came out the back door and got all the money from the bars and the door. So if it is Curl behind this it would make perfect sense.”

  “I say again, what makes you say that?” Wanda asked.

  “What is Curl trying to do? He is trying to expand his operation. How can he do that? He can only expand by killing us all and taking it or to get us to sit down with him and we give it to him. At every point, the tactics have been correct, they just weren’t executed correctly. Which is why I don’t think that it’s Curl, or at least it’s not him calling the shots?”

  “Then who?” Wanda asked as Freeze came through the door.

  “Where you been?” Mike asked.

  “Yonkers PD.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Wanda asked.

  “’Cause I wasn’t in jail.”

  “Then what were you doing there,” Bobby asked.

  “Somebody tried to kill me, but they got Paulleen instead. She’s dead.”

  Meanwhile, another
meeting was taking place at The Spot between D-Train and the four Impressions bandits. Melinda walked into the office. When she came into the office everybody stopped talking and looked at Melinda. She didn’t think anything of it; she was used to things like that happening when she came into a room.

  “Hi, Dee. How did it go?”

  “Y’all excuse me for a minute,” D-Train said to the bandits. They got up slowly and walked out of the office.

  Once they were gone Melinda asked, “How did it go?”

  “Baby, it went just like you said it would,” D-Train said and got up from his desk and put his arms around Melinda. “And this time everybody did shit according to the plan.”

  “That’s great, baby,” Melinda said and kissed him on the cheek. “What about the couple that caused the diversion? Did the cops take them to jail?”

  “Nope,” he replied and kissed her. “They just took the gun from her and told them both to go home.”

  “How much did they get?”

  “That was the only problem,” D-Train said and broke their embrace and started to walk away.

  “Oh, Lord, what happened?”

  D-Train turned back quickly and backhanded Melinda to the floor.

  “TWO FUCKIN’ GRAND!” he screamed as he stood over her. “My people went through all that shit for two fuckin’ grand.”

  “That’s not possible,” Melinda said and tried to crawl away from D-Train, but he kept coming.

  “Oh, but yes it is possible, Miss master plan.”

  “I told you that the money wasn’t the point. The point was to get them to come to us!” Melinda yelled as she backed herself into a corner.

  “Bitch, please. A nigga like Black spend that much on a suit. Them niggas ain’t gonna care about losing two fuckin’ grand.” D-Train looked at Melinda as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Get up,” he said and held out his hand. “Get up, I ain’t gonna hit you no more.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yeah, I promise. Besides, I got another problem that I need to deal with.” D-Train helped Melinda to her feet and practically dragged her into the stock room. Once they got in the stock room, there sat Clark Kent, surrounded by D-Train’s crew, gagged, beaten, and bloody, tied to a chair.

  “What’s going on here?” Melinda asked.

  “This is what happens to a nigga that fucks up.”

  “What did he do?”

  “This dumb bitch decided on his own that he was gonna whack Freeze. But he missed. Killed his woman instead.”

  “You killed Paulleen?”

  “You know her?”

  “Of course, I know her. We were friends,” Melinda said knowing how fucked up this was. Now there would be no talk. She knew that Freeze would come after them with everything he had. “What are you gonna do with him?”

  D-Train took out his gun. “I wanted you to see what happens to niggas that fuck up.” D-Train pointed his gun and pumped three shots into Clark Kent’s head. “Guess he ain’t Superman,” D-Train said, and his crew laughed. Then he grabbed Melinda by the throat. “You ain’t got no more times to fuck up. Understand?”

  Melinda said nothing, but understood perfectly, and it became very clear to her exactly what she had to do now.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  It was midafternoon when Nick arrived at the Post office to meet Freddie. He still hadn’t heard from Kirk. Since he had to catch Freddie, Nick allowed Kirk to rush out of his apartment without giving up any information, and now he regretted it. Nick tried to call Kirk again, and again caught Kirk’s voicemail.

  He wanted to call Black and tell him, but … tell him what? That Kirk knew something, but I have no idea what? That I think it has something to do with the DEA? I don’t think so. Not after Black just asked me if I was a DEA agent.

  But he needed to run this by somebody and thought that since he wasn’t ready to tell Black, that Wanda was the next best choice.

  The night before, Wanda and Nick talked about his situation for about an hour at her office. After he explained his concerns about what Sally Fitz had told him, Wanda had to agree with him, but she had to ask a question before she said anything else.

  “Are you DEA, Nick?” Wanda asked with a smile

  “No, Wanda, I am not DEA.”

  “Good for you, Nick. It would break my heart if you were,” Wanda said in a somewhat flirtatious way, and then turned serious. “But I agree; you were right to move Monika. How is she doing anyway?”

  “She’s doing fine, she just needs to rest. She should be back on her feet in a day or two,” Nick told her.

  “So do you think that telling Kirk about Shy was the best idea?”

  Nick looked at Wanda.

  “I’m just asking because I know that Mike will,” Wanda said, but she did question the logic behind it.

  Nick smiled. “You mean because he’s a cop?”

  “Yes, Nick,” Wanda said and laughed a little.

  “That’s exactly why I told him. Look, Kirk hears things we never will. I think he does know something, so I took a chance.”

  “I hope it pays off, and at worst, doesn’t cause us any more problems than it already has. What’s bothering me is how Kirk would know or even care about a drug meeting in the Bahamas. Kirk is homicide,” Wanda said and looked at the time. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “I haven’t eaten a thing all day, so I’m starving.”

  “Well let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner,” Wanda said and began to gather her things.

  “Are you inviting me out on a date?”

  “No, Nick, I said that I would buy you dinner. If this was a date you would be buying me dinner,” Wanda said, and Nick followed her out of the office.

  After dinner, Nick and Wanda talked over drinks. They talked about business and how she thought Nick could fit in. They were having a good time reminiscing about old times and then Wanda noticed that it was getting late and she wanted to see P Harlem at Impressions. That’s when they found out about the robbery and about Paulleen’s murder.

  Since the bandits only got away with a couple of grand, nobody was overly concerned about the robbery, although the fact that anyone would try it bothered Freeze. He saw it as another challenge to his running of their operation. The real concern was the attempted assassination.

  Freeze was sure that D-Train was responsible and wanted blood.

  “I say we go over there now and kill ‘em all.”

  But Mike was able to convince him to be sure that he was involved in it before they went to war. So, while Mike and Bobby continued to look for Shy, Freeze went off in search of the owner of a 73 Nova, and Nick went to meet Freddie.

  When Nick arrived at the post office, Freddie was there waiting for him. He got out and began walking toward him.

  “How’s it going, Freddie?”

  “First of all let’s get one thing straight. You never saw me. So I never talked to you, not today or yesterday. We clear on that?”

  “That bad?”

  “Are we clear, Nick?”

  “I never saw you, Freddie, so we never talked. Now, what you got?”

  “Nothing. That’s what I got, nothing. All my inquiries were met by a polite brush off or the word classified.”

  “You have anything for me?”

  “Some advice; and this came from Walter.”

  “How is Walter?”

  “Still pissed at you about Beirut. He sends his regards, and said to forget you ever heard any of this.”

  “Can’t do that, Freddie, but thanks anyway for your help. See ya.” Nick started to walk away.

  “Back off this one, Nick, it’s political.”

  Nick stopped in his tracks and walked back to Freddie. “How do you know it’s political? You know something. Give it up.”

  Freddie stood quietly and looked at Nick. “All right, Nick. Paris did some work for some people we know in Virginia. The word is that it was about some white paper that Paris came in contact with, but he was murdered before he actua
lly got his hands on them.”

  “Shit, I knew that.”

  “Sorry you came all this way for nothing,” Freddie said, and got back in his car. “Hey, Nick. You ever read a column by Tavia Hawkins?”

  “Tavia Hawkins? Who’s that?”

  “She’s a reporter for the Post.”

  “What’s she got to do with this?”

  “I didn’t say she did. Understand. See ya, Nick.” Nick watched Freddie drive away before returning to his car. He drove to the nearest public library and logged on to the Internet.

  Nick went to the Post’s online edition site and ran an archive search on Tavia Hawkins. He got ten pages of hits from his search. Nick began reading some of the articles and it wasn’t long before he noticed a pattern. A lot of the articles she’d written lately were about Martin Marshall.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “What you wanna do now?” Bobby asked.

  “Let’s ride down the concourse, see what’s happening down there,” Mike replied. It was getting late in the evening and Mike and Bobby had been riding all day. They had been to all of the people who usually had information to offer for a price and still nothing. Nobody knew anything about Shy’s kidnapping or knew where they could find Sal Terrico.

  Mike had begun to wonder if maybe he’d left the island too soon or maybe he should have put some pressure on Hector in Miami. No, Shy was in New York somewhere and he would find her if he had to go house to house to do it. Somebody knew something; saw something. He would just have to find them and make them talk.

  They had just come out of a bar when Bobby’s cell phone rang, and he answered it.

  “This is Angelo. Let me talk to Mikey.” Bobby told Mike who it was and handed him the phone.