Renika sat up straight and put down the bag of trail mix. Nicole had her interest. “You got my attention. What's going on? Do I need to take a trip?”
“We'll cross that bridge if or when it becomes necessary. Brace yourself for the shit I'm about to put on you,” Nicole replied.
“Come on with it,” Renika said.
Nicole gave Renika the rundown on what had happened and what was going on. Renika was astounded. She put the phone on speakerphone, set it on the coffee table, and picked up the bag of trail mix. She snacked and listened to the most interesting news she'd heard in a long time.
“Old slick-ass Demetri,” Renika commented. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed, remembering it was Demetri who put her father on top. “This means the whole thing about my pops being the new head is some bullshit.”
“Well, as far as the dope game goes, he is the head. But if you want to talk about what's really going on, hell no, Li'l Will ain't running shit. Neither is Demetri or Thaddeus. All of it is a web built by some straight sucker shit,” Nicole replied.
“Let me delete his racist pale ass out of my contacts.” Renika said and picked up her iPhone. She deleted Demetri's number from her contacts and blocked him from calling. “As much as I would like to see my pop’s ass suffer, I got to hit him up and give him the 4-1-1.”
Nicole laughed. “Understood. Just hit me back a little later.” She hung up.
Renika scrolled through her contacts, looking for Li'l Will's number. She found it and called him. The phone rang until the voicemail came on. She immediately hung up.
“I'm not talking to a damn automated voice.” She thought out loud. She called back again, and this time, got an answer.
“Hello?” Machumu said, sounding worn out.
Renika couldn't suppress the laughter. “Sounds like somebody's been through it. It's Renika, Machumu. Put your husband on the phone.”
Machumu tapped Li'l Will on the shoulder while calling his name. He woke up, saying, “I can't go another round, baby. You win.”
“No, baby. Your daughter is on the phone. She needs to talk to you.” Machumu replied while yawning.
“Which daughter?” asked Li'l Will as he rolled over to face her.
“Just take the damn phone, man,” she demanded.
Li'l Will grabbed the phone out of Machumu's hand. She rolled over and went back to sleep.
“Hello?” he answered, yawning.
“Damn, is everybody wore out? You going for baby number four or five, Pops?” Renika said teasingly.
He chuckled. “Renika, how are you doing? Is everything okay?”
“Actually, yes and no. I would beat your ears up with the truth of the matter, but I've decided to send it to you via text message. Call me back once you're done reading it,” Renika said.
“Okay, I will,” Li'l Will replied.
“Oh, I know you will, Pops.” She hung up.
Before she could set the phone back down, a text message came through on her private sector. She opened it and smiled. It was a contract from an employer who wanted it filled ASAP. The text message read, “Blood for Blood,” with a $250K deposit notice attached.
Renika texted back immediately. All she wanted to know was who the target was and the location. The employer sent another text message that had an image attached to it, waiting to be downloaded. The text message read, “Target on the move. Will have actual location for you momentarily. Don't care how target is terminated. Only ask kill confirmed.”
It was Renika's favorite kind of contract. She pressed download, and waited for the attachment to upload in the image viewer. When the picture and name of the target popped up on the screen, she laughed and texted back, stating, “Waiting for location verification.”
“Sit tight. You will have all info soon,” the employer replied in a text.
With her phone in hand, Renika walked to the refrigerator, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade. She shut the door of the refrigerator and returned to the couch. Before she could unscrew the cap on the bottle, she had an incoming call. It was from her father.
“Daddy, I don't have time for a thousand questions right now, so if you can't sum up what you got to say in less than ten minutes, it's going to have to wait,” Renika answered, getting to straight to the point.
“Understood. I just wanted to tell you, that's some hardcore shit you just laid on me. I've been played like a fucking fiddle all along,” Li'l Will said, voice full of anger.
“Everybody plays the fool sometimes,” Renika replied before asking, “Is that all you have to say? Because I got money on my mental at the moment. No disrespect.”
“Machumu wants to holler at you.” He handed the phone to his wife.
“Renika, what's going on?” asked Machumu.
“Money. What's up? Y'all on money time,” Renika reminded her.
“I just want to fill you in on the rest of the tea. Charles and Havenna Sylvan are my grandparents on my mother's side of my family. Dominica is my mother's oldest sister,” Machumu replied.
The look on Renika's face was priceless. She took a swig of the Gatorade before responding. “Dammit man! You're the niece of Valaire Perfecto Dominica?”
Machumu chuckled. “From the womb to the tomb. Do you know what Valaire Perfecto means? It is a mixture between Swahili, French, Italian, and Patois and a more ancient language not too many people speak now days, meaning, The Perfect Black Source.”
Renika took another swig, nodding to herself while processing what Machumu said. “That explains everything.”
“How so?” asked Machumu.
“It was fucking impossible for Demetri or his brother to be Valaire Perfecto, so he came up with this I'm The Head bullshit. And due to the fact that my father is black, he played him to the left by putting him in a phony-ass position,” Renika stated.
Machumu could hear the anger in her voice. “Yeah, that pretty much sums shit up. I guess my question is, what are we going to do about the situation?”
Renika looked at the screen of her iPhone X. The private sector text message icon flashed across the screen.
“Hello? Renika?” Machumu said.
“Just chill. I'm working on that now.” Renika opened up her private message inbox. The information she needed to fill the contract had come through. “Alright, this phone call just expired. I'll call you back once I'm done working,” she promised before hanging up.
Renika texted the employer back, letting them know she'd received the confirmed location and she was preparing to fulfil the contract. After she sent the text, Renika texted two of her personal crew members, telling them to meet her at the airport with their toys in about fifteen minutes. Both replied with the thumbs up emoji. She smiled, thinking to herself, What a hell of a world.
Chapter Twelve
Dink was setting everything in motion. He had called a meeting with his personal hitters and gave them the ups on what he envisioned to be a revolution. Trey, who was 6’5” and, 246 pounds of muscle, dark brown skin, and wavy hair, was his number one hitter. It didn't matter: hands on, gunplay or knife play, he was with it.
Trey's family was originally from Oakland, California, so Dink already knew he was with the revolution. He had a black panther tatted on his right forearm. “Homie, you know I'm ten toes down ’til the casket drops when it comes to the revolution,” Trey said.
Dolo stated he was down with whatever. He was 5’7”, 165 pounds, with light brown skin, hazel brown eyes, and he wore his hair in a ponytail. He was Albany born and raised. He Dink grew up together, staying into more shit than their parents knew.
Dolo's thing was gunplay. Put any kind of gun in his hand, and you got yourself a real live black Billy the Kid, Doc Holiday, or Wyatt Earp. Their home girl Kaila was the same. She was, boot black 5’3”, 128 pounds, with long natural braided hair, a walking terrorist.
Kaila had a reputation for busting her guns and playing the box cutter game. She nodded while hitting the blunt, letting them kno
w she was in on the movement. Her girlfriend China, who was 4’10” and 119 pounds, was black mixed with Chinese. She was so sexy that men and women alike always gave Kaila props on bagging her.
China was a natural bad ass. Her hands and feet were official and registered. She told Dink she was down, but only because her bae, Dae-Dae, Tiptoe, Block, and Santana were down as well.
“Alright, peep game,” Dink said before hitting the blunt. “My brother said he is going to help a nigga start a security firm, but fuck all that. We going to do this shit Black Panther Georgia style. Matter of fact, that's our name, GA Black Panthers.”
“Fucking right, homie!” Trey yelled.
Everybody was feeling the name. Dink knew, no matter what, his hitters were always with whatever movement he was putting down. Mostly because they were so much alike: grimy as hell.
“From now on, every time we hear about a cop killing one of our people or a pig on their brutality shit, we taking off on one of theirs. We ain't doing shit to get caught up. We moving in silence.” Dink said.
Nobody disagreed with him. They sat, kicking it, smoking and drinking until everybody decided to leave.
***
Tanji and her mother were on the job. They'd received a call from the Bureau about a multiple homicide, which wasn't unusual in Boston, Massachusetts. Gang violence was almost like turning on the television, watching Wildin' Out. The shit was real, especially on the side of town the murders had happened on.
Director Harris walked around the bodies of the young black teens. Three of them were boys and the other two were girls. None were older than seventeen years old. Looking at the gunshot wounds, she shook her head, angry. She was more angry at the system than those who had done the killing.
“You might want to see this, Director Harris.” Agent Harris ran over to where the director stood speechless.
She followed her daughter, Agent Harris, into the house. Bullet holes were scattered along the walls. They entered a bedroom that looked to be undisturbed by the investigators who were searching the house, gathering evidence.
“I'm the only one who’s been in this room. Lucky me.” Agent Harris flipped the top mattress over, revealing a mattress stuffed with money, drugs and guns.”
“Damn,” the director said, surprised.
“That was my expression too,” Agent Harris replied. She looked around to make sure no one was within earshot of their conversation. “So, Director Harris, how are we playing this?”
Director Harris looked around the room. When she didn't find anything resembling what she was looking for, she had another bright idea. “Wait right here. I'll be back in a second.” She trotted out of the bedroom.
The director returned carrying a body bag. “Okay, we got to do this quick. We’re taking the money, but leaving the dope and guns for the investigators.” She started tossing the money that was in bundles separated by rubber bands into the body bag. Agent Harris gave her hand with it.
After they had stuffed the body bag, Sarah ran out of the room again. This time she returned pushing a stretcher. “Let's get this body on the stretcher and out of this room, Agent Harris.”
Agent Harris grabbed one end and Director Harris grabbed the other. “One, two, three. Lift!” Director Harris said. They lifted the black body bag onto the stretcher. Agent Harris strapped it down like a real body.
As they were rolling the body out, the investigators were coming in. The director, being quick with her thinking, told them about the stash of drugs and guns inside of the mattress, knowing it would take their focus off of the body on the stretcher. And it worked like a charm for her and Agent Harris.
“Bring the car alongside the ambulance and pop the trunk,” she told her daughter, who didn't hesitate to follow orders.
Agent Harris hurried over to the unmarked black sedan and jumped behind the wheel. She drove around to the blind side of the ambulance. She opened the glove compartment and pressed the button to open the trunk before hopping out to help her mother with the body bag. They tossed the bag into the trunk and the agent eased the trunk closed.
“Nice work, Director Harris,” Agent Harris said just in case someone was wandering around the area. She jumped back in the sedan and drove back around to where everyone could see the car, and waited on her mother to give her final set of orders.
Calling her subordinates to her, Director Harris barked out the instructions. She wanted the scene to remain taped off and the house too just in case there was a need for a more thorough search of the premises. “Good job, people! I'll see you guys at the office at 1600 hours!” She got in on the passenger side of the unmarked black sedan.
Agent Harris drove off, heading in the direction of headquarters. But once they were disguised in a steady flow of traffic, she got off on the nearest exit and headed for the director's home on the lake. “Great job for real, Director Harris,” Tanji commended her mother with a sense of humor.
“Your finding, Agent Harris,” Sarah replied.
“Our keeping,” Tanji stated.
They rode in silence, listening to the police scanner the rest of the way. They made it to their destination. Sarah and her daughter grabbed the body bag out of the trunk and carried it inside into the den, where they sat down and counted it. “$378,000 isn't a bad lick,” Tanji said after they were done counting.
“Definitely not when it's tax free money,” her mother replied.
The two women laughed. “What time is it?” asked Tanji, looking at her Citizen Echo watch. It was 2:57 p.m.
“Why? What's up?” her mother asked.
Tanji took out her GalaxyS10. “I was supposed to call Damien and give him my yea or nay today,” she replied as she called him. The phone rung twice before he answered.
“Hey. What's good, Tanji?” Damien said.
“That's the first time your phone ever rang twice when I called you,” she replied.
“Seriously, Tanji, I'm in traffic and some real heavy shit is going down. I mean, you wouldn't believe it. Anyway, what's on my baby's mind?” he said.
“Yes,” she responded.
“Yes? Yes what?” asked Damien, keeping his eyes on the GPS road map.
“Yes, I'm marrying you, crazy-ass man. So handle your business and call me back when you're available,” Tanji demanded.
“I'm always available for you, Tanji. On the real, y'all might want to lay low for a while. This shit is about to hit the fan, and I don't want you or my mother-in-law caught up in it,” Damien replied. He looked at the GPS, and it was reading he was only ten minutes away from his destination. “Listen, babes, I got to go. You and your mother can go ahead and turn in your resignation papers.” He hung up.
Tanji hung up and looked at her mother, who was waiting on the news. “Mama, excuse my language, but it's some serious shit going on in Italy,” she said. She filled her mother in on the information Damien had given her.
Sarah nodded her head in deep thought as she listened to her daughter. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “Looks like early retirement is what's happening,” she said.
“Yeah, we was on point with that idea,” her daughter replied.
Sarah jumped up off the couch. “Pack your bags,” she said.
Tanji looked at her mother confused. “For what? What's up?” she asked.
“We're going to Italy,” Sarah answered while walking out of the den to go pack.
***
Cedric and Tiffany had been going strong. She had even started bringing him cans of Buglers, ounces of marijuana, and lighters to hustle. It was definitely a help since he had not called Renika after the night she chomped him off and hung up in his face. He hadn't reached out to her for anything, nor did she volunteer to send him anything either.
He was really in grind mode. To him, it was like he wasn't really locked up. He kicked it with Tiffany on the phone every day when she got off work and on her off days. When she was at work, they always managed to do their thing in the control booth.
“I'm going to surprise her ass today,” Cedric thought out loud as he ordered Tiffany a gift basket from an online delivery company and paid for it via Green Dot. Everything he hustled, he split 50/50 with her on Cash App. They were living the chain gang fame.
After he completed the order, Cedric turned his phone off and put it up before leaving his cell. He sat down next to James at the domino table. Not really wanting to play, but he was waiting on Tiffany to walk her fine ass down the hallway. It was his daily routine.
“What's good, big homies? Let me get in next game,” Cedric said.
DeQuan looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Li'l nigga, don't come with that elementary-ass playing, fucking up my winning streak,” he said warningly.
Cedric checked the time on his watch. It was 1:45 p.m. He looked out of the large window, knowing his girl would be coming down the hallway any minute. “Big homie, you know my game is official,” he replied.
James had peeped the move, and called him out on it. “Fam, this nigga sprung on the pussy. He ain't really out here to slam bones for real. He waiting on ole girl to bring her ass in.”
The two brothers laughed. DeQuan shook his head. “Hell nah, young blood, your ass ain't playing,” DeQuan said while laying the cross sixes.
Cedric didn't know how to respond. He had been called out, and James was right. Not to mention, his face lit up when he looked up and saw her walking down the hall. Unlike usual, he realized Tiffany wasn't smiling, but had a serious look in her eyes when she looked at him.
She must be PMS’ing, he thought to himself as he watched her enter the booth. He sat for a few more minutes after the other guard left. Concerned, Cedric hurried into his cell, put a blanket at the bottom of the door to muffle the sound, and pressed the intercom button. He heard it buzz on.
“Tiffany, is everything good?” he asked.
She was quiet for a moment. Actually, she was trying to put it in the best way. “I'm good, bae. I got that package for you. We'll talk later on,” Tiffany replied.
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