All Eyes on Gunz 2

by Warren Holloway

  “Ra Ra, pull up beside the Impala.”

  He did just that. Sweets was just sitting there pissed.

  “Yo, what they hit you for?” I asked.

  “Two blocks and ten racks was what I had to play with.”

  “How the fuck they get up on you like that?” I asked, knowing most people coming to grab heavy like that know you, because we didn’t do business that heavy with too many new faces without having a proper and trusted introduction.

  “This nigga Diz-lo called me up for the squares saying his man wanted them.” He paused while thinking about how he trusted Diz-lo. “I’ma kill that fool Diz-lo. I did a bit with him in the Feds, so I thought he was good money. Plus, I hit him off light the other day.”

  I was ready to handle this shit to get the homie’s money back, plus I wanted to see how he handled himself.

  “You said that’s the car right there?”

  “Yeah, that’s they shit. I should bust all the windows out.”

  “All right, my nigga, we can go inside of the club or wait on them to come out.”

  “Let’s go get ‘em!”

  “We going inside. Ra Ra, you stay out here and lay down anything coming through that door looking like they want war.”

  The plan was I was going in first. I’d sit by the stage with the strippers, and then the homie Sweets was going to come in behind me looking like he was on the dolo, which was going to make these niggas paranoid seeing him, and they’d want to leave. As I was laying down the plans for the move we were going to make on these niggas, Sweets spotted the nigga Diz-lo.

  “There that nigga Diz-lo go right there,” Sweets said, seeing him coming out of the club.

  Diz-lo was a little nigga standing five foot three with a medium build of maybe 175 pounds. He was all about his work, but he had fucked with the wrong team.

  I rolled the tinted windows back up before having Ra Ra drove slowly toward this nigga, since we were half a block away from the club’s front door, because that’s where Sweets parked his car. I had my .44 Magnum in hand all ready to make some noise.

  Diz-lo and his homeboy were getting into the truck, ready to leave so they could go to another club and spend their newfound riches of the ten racks and two bricks. Little did they know they would never get a chance to spend it all.

  Ra Ra stopped at the driver’s side door. I hit the switch and rolled down the dark tinted window to reveal my face.

  “Yo, little nigga,” I said to get his attention as he turned my way to see who was speaking. “You is a stupid muthafucka,” I said, bringing my Magnum up and quickly firing off a thunderous round into his face.

  The bullet snapped his neck from the brute force of the up-close Magnum slug that was unforgiving at any range. His brains ejected out of his skull, spraying his homeboy with flesh and bones as his body slumped over on the steering wheel. His homeboy had a brief moment of shock until he snapped back into the reality of this fast-paced world. He started reaching for a gun that he put under the passenger seat before he went into the club. He took hold of it, feeling confident as he cocked it back, chambering a round to engage in fire with me. But those thoughts of shooting it out halted as slugs came through the passenger side window and pounded into his face and body, sucking the life from his flesh. I looked up to see that it was Sweets who had fired the rounds.

  “Yo, check inside the truck for your shit,” I said.

  As he was checking for his shit, shots rang out from the steps of the club. It was another of Diz-lo’s homies with a .380 that he concealed and brought into the club. He fired on Sweets after seeing that his niggas were down and dead. Plus, he knew who Sweets was.

  The slugs fired from the nigga on the step hit Sweets and dropped him. But the fear of death came fast, making his heart beat as he returned fire. He did not want to die right now. The slugs in his leg and back were burning, which only added to his pain and fear of death.

  Ra Ra jumped out of his whip when he saw someone else coming out of the club. He got the MAC-10 fully automatic with a fifty clip extended from the stock. He was ready for war. He opened up fast on the nigga coming out of the club and dropped him where he stood.

  Sweets fired off his last rounds at the fourth nigga that came out of the club, who acted like he really wanted it. Plus, he was one of them niggas that helped in the robbery.

  Ra Ra ran up on the steps and finished off the last nigga that was still moving, but not anymore. Then he raced over to Sweets to help him up to his feet.

  “Ra Ra, get the work,” I said, meaning the two bricks of cocaine.

  He grabbed the work after he helped Sweets to his whip. The bricks were under the passenger seat. He grabbed the joints and tossed them into the whip. He jumped into the car and mashed the gas, forcing the modified engine to thrust the car forward fast with ease. Sweets took off in his car, making his way to the hospital to get patched up. He knew he was losing blood, so he drove faster and mapped out in his head where the closest hospital was located. It seemed like the closer he got to the hospital, the farther away it became, especially with the dizziness setting in from the loss of blood. He didn’t realize he was closer to dying than living at this point. That reality started setting in as his vision blurred, and then it became dark. His heart slowed, and panic set in as he crashed, unable to control his car. It swerved up on the sidewalk and hit a telephone pole. He lay helpless as his life was slowly slipping away, with thoughts of how it all started with being robbed. Damn, this is for me, he started thinking as he began to feel weaker and weaker by the second, with his eyes open staring up at the sky.

  “Sir, are you okay?” an old man asked, after seeing the car crash as he was walking his dog. He called 911, but Sweets was past help.

  I called the nigga Sweets’s phone, but it kept ringing over and over. Damn, I hoped he made it to the hospital safe. Me and Ra Ra then decided to head back over to the club to get some more visual loving from Rain and Mrs. Goodbar.

  CHAPTER 4

  IT WAS 8:00 THE next morning and me and my little nigga, Ra Ra, sat at the Waffle House eating our cheese eggs, New York strip steaks, home fries with sautéed onions, and blueberry muffins split and fried on the grill.

  I figured we’d have breakfast and go over business while I was gone. In between fucking this food up, we talked about what was needed while I was out of town.

  “I want to know about anything that deviates from what we talked about. The product is in place, and you have my clientele plus the folks you already have. Little D, Geez, and Fat Money will definitely hold you down.”

  “I got this, my nigga. We gonna get this paper and stack it up until you come back. Feel me?” Ra Ra said with a partial mouthful of steak and eggs. He then paused a moment in deep thought. “You know the homie died last night, too?”

  “Who you talking about?”

  “That boy, Sweets. He crashed out on the way to the hospital. He bled out or some shit the news was saying. The shit crazy though.”

  I took a moment acknowledging the loss of the homie.

  “We put in all of that work last night for him to just crash out. Damn, if I would have known that, we could have driven him to the hospital. At least he would have had a chance to be here today.”

  As he was talking, my eyes veered out of the window and looked on at the incoming traffic coming into the restaurant.

  “What you looking at?” he asked, at the same time turning to see what I was looking at. “Oh shit, the Georgia State Troopers,” Ra Ra said.

  He knew that since I had been down here, this was the closest I had come in contact with the cops. I had a fake ID, plus I switched my look up a little. I just didn’t like being in their way, so to speak, because even with the fake ID, shit just might go sideways.

  The troopers exited their cars. The one trooper looked like he had papers in his hand. I was a wanted nigga, and people up North, including the Feds, would want to see me locked up.

  “Well, whatever you want t
o do. I’ma ride out,” Ra Ra said while setting his fork down and now focusing on the troopers.

  Ra Ra pulled out his 9mm and took off the safety. He then placed the gun to the side and covered it with the cloth napkin. We had a corner booth by the bathrooms which allowed us to see anyone coming and going.

  “Listen Ra Ra, if I have to lay these niggas down, I will. I’m already wanted for killing a cop; the only thing they can give me is the death penalty, so one more cop ain’t going to change shit. This is why I live like I do, because tomorrow isn’t promised.”

  “I’m all in, homie. I can’t turn back on all that you gave me and my homies. Blood in, blood out,” he said, which is why I fucked with these ATL niggas.

  The troopers approached the counter and made small talk with the waitress before placing the stack of papers onto the countertop.

  “Have you seen this man around here?” the trooper randomly asked. The waitress was an older woman looking to be in her late forties or early fifties. You could see she was a bad sista when she was younger, but now she was just a working mom. She looked over the photo and saw that it was me, but she didn’t act like she knew me. Maybe it is a good thing that I always tipped her big. One time, I came in a little buzzed up and left a $500 tip. It was leftover money from the strip club I didn’t spend, but it helped her out a lot, and she made me know how much she appreciated it.

  “I never seen him before, but can I get you gentlemen anything?”

  “No ma’am,” he said before turning to leave.

  “I’ll be out. I have to use the bathroom,” one of the other troopers said while making his way back to the bathroom.

  He made his way into the bathroom only to see that the one-stall bathroom was in use, and he needed to shit.

  “I got to take a shit!” the officer said with urgency.

  Hearing that this muthafucka wanted to take a shit pissed me off. I ran into the bathroom to hide in the stall, hoping to evade them niggas. I tucked my .44 Magnum on my waistline, and then I flushed the toilet acting like I was taking a shit. As I opened the door to the stall, I was holding my hand on my stomach.

  He glanced at my face as I passed him. He took a step toward the stall at the same time his brain was processing the image of my face. In that same moment, he turned toward me as it all came to him.

  “Hey!”

  I could hear his voice trying to form the words that would cause chaos and problems, so I turned toward him faster than he could get the words out. I was just in time to see him reaching for his sidearm. I beat him to the punch with the Magnum in hand, with the hammer cocked back all in the same motion.

  The trooper knew that all the stories he heard of me were all too real. Today could have easily been his day, and he would never make it home to his family.

  “Get on your knees and don’t try to be a hero. If you know me, then you know I kill would-be heroes.”

  “I, I got two kids. Little girls. Please don’t kill me,” he begged, knowing the reality of this situation that he put himself in.

  “It’s too late for begging, you stupid muthafucka. You didn’t think about your kids when you decided to turn around, did you?” I said, seeing the deep fear in his eyes. He was probably wishing he called in sick today to be with his daughters. “Slide your set of cuffs over here and the radio, too. I don’t want you trying anything stupid.”

  I then made him wrap his arms around the pole going into the ground that held the stall together, before I cuffed him to it. I put the other cuffs on his feet, after he put them close to the other pole, so he was cuffed from both ends.

  I left the bathroom and spared his life. I walked over to the table where Ra Ra was still eating his breakfast. Then it hit me. I couldn’t leave him alive, so I took the steak knife from the table and made my way back into the bathroom. The trooper was attempting to escape.

  “Look at what we got here. Are you trying to get away to get home to your daughters, or you trying to get me?”

  I didn’t wait for him to answer. I just took the knife across his throat, cutting deeply into his neck and leaving no chance of him seeing tomorrow. He started choking on his own blood as he struggled to suck in the much-needed oxygen to live another day, but it was too late.

  Ra Ra stuck his head into the bathroom.

  “My nigga, his partner is coming.”

  My adrenaline spiked, knowing it was about to go down. Should I shoot it out with this muthafucka, or what?

  I turned to the urinal and acted like I was taking a piss. I could hear the door open and his partner’s voice come through the air.

  “Hey, Jim, we have a call.”

  Before he could even turn the corner to see his partner dead on the floor, I came behind him and slit his throat. He instantly reached out for his neck and then his gun to fire on me. But I grabbed his wrist and stared deeply into his eyes.

  “Just let it happen. Today is just one of those bad days. It’ll all be over soon,” I said, knowing he was dying and would not see the sunset.

  This nigga’s blood got on my sleeve, so I rolled that shit up after I washed my hands. I wrapped the knife up and tossed it into the trashcan.

  I calmly walked out of the bathroom, but Ra Ra knew what had taken place. He could see the murder in my eyes because he too was a stone cold killa with baby-face swag.

  “Let’s get the fuck up out of here. Leave baby girl a rack,” I said, knowing she held me down.

  After they discovered the two officers in the bathroom, she’d be trippin’ on that shit. She smiled upon seeing the amount of money that Ra Ra handed her. She could take her kids out shopping or something.

  Once we got in the parking lot, we got our shit together, and then Ra Ra raced off in his whip with the fifteen bricks I blessed him with. He was feeling himself being a young boss while I left town for a bit.

  Me and Ra Ra really clicked since I had a baby with his sister, Candy. She was a firecracker but sexy as ever, standing five foot one and weighing 120 pounds in all the right places. She was the first piece of Atlanta pussy I got when I came down here. Light skin, long hair, glowing brown hazel eyes, sexy lips, and a soft voice that lured you in. Our son was two and half months old. My little nigga’s name was Dequan Jamir Anderson. We called him DJ for short. He had the world just like the rest of my seeds.

  I made my way up North to take care of some other business. The good thing about driving alone was that it gave me time to think and really collect my thoughts, so I could stay ahead of the game and these cops that wanted to take me down.

  CHAPTER 5

  CLOSE TO TEN HOURS later, I landed in my second favorite city: Baltimore, a.k.a. Charm City. It was also less than an hour from my home city of Harrisburg. It was like a home away from home. I got a suite at the Renaissance Hotel and Resort by using my fake ID. I booked the parlor suite. Room #7038 boasted a living room, dining room, and bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows, giving me a view of the harbor and skyline. Once I got into the room, I hit up Rico from York, PA, who was only about thirty minutes away.

  “Nola que tal, quien es ese?” Rico said after answering his phone.

  “Now, nigga, you know my Spanish ain’t on point like that,” I said.

  “Yo, bro, I know this ain’t my boy America’s Most Wanted,” he said, trying to be funny, but excited to hear from me.

  “Yeah, it’s me. What you getting into tonight?”

  “I don’t know yet. Damn, bro! It’s been a year, and you got at me just like you said you would. This shit is crazy.”

  “So, how’s life been treating you and your team?”

  “It’s all good now, thanks to you. You should see how we’ve grown.”

  “I’m up North and wondering what you and your team are getting into tonight?”

  “We getting this money out here.”

  “Like I said, I’m close by, so meet me at Norma Jean’s down the way, you feel me?

  “I already know where we at with this. I’ll be there a
round ten or eleven.”

  “I’ll see you then, my nigga.”

  After the call with Rico, I called up my baby momma, Shari, in Harrisburg. She gave it to me right away, not hearing from me in awhile, but it was needed.

  “Why did it take you so long to call? Don’t you think your boys wanted to hear from you or know that their daddy is okay?”

  “I know, I know, but things got a little more busy than I expected, plus I needed to secure myself,” I began. “I want you to bring our boys down to the place with the dolphins, so we can see the show.”

  She got excited knowing exactly where I was.

  “I’ll be there around two.”

  “Sounds good to me. Plus, I got your favorite suite, too.”

  She giggled as memories flashed back to her of how we made love in every way in the suite. After the call, I made my way down to the gallery to get some new clothes for the week I’d be here, plus I needed something to stunt out with tonight.

  “I’m hungry as a mutha right now!” I said, placing a quick order over the phone with the hotel staff for room service. I also ordered a few drinks to start my day off.

  As I was waiting on my food, I flipped through the channels and watched CNN, which was showing coverage of the two troopers killed at the Atlanta Waffle House. The report said there were no suspects or leads thus far. This was good since I killed them both, because they would make the city hot for me. Fuck them cops. I turned to BET and watched videos on the 106 & Park. They started playing 50 Cent’s video “Many Men” with G-Unit. I stood up waving my gun and feeling the moment and lyrics. In the middle of the song, Ra Ra hit me up on my phone.

  “What’s good, little homie?”

  “You see that shit on the news?”

  “I seen it. We good, so keep hush on that, feel me?”

  “You ain’t gotta tell me. I already know the life we living,” Ra Ra responded before hanging up.

  I was always paranoid needing to let niggas know what they needed to say and do at all times, so we could all be on the same page at all times. Plus, some niggas thought just ‘cause you got away with something, you could tell everyone. That shit would only get you caught.