Ra Ra and Fat Money realized it wasn’t a robbery but the Feds. Now knowing they had just killed a Fed, they briefly looked at one another and knew the only way out of this was with gunfire. In other words, they would go out fighting until death, because jail was not an option.
The agents returned fire after being caught off guard. They did not expect to enter a gunfight, because they felt they had the advantage of entering the house in the early morning hours with the flashbang. They felt the men would panic and surrender, but the opposite occurred.
Ra Ra’s eyes saw the shadows of more agents outside of the window as if they were attempting to come through the window, so he fired off more shots in that direction and forced the agents to shift their direction of entry.
The agents by the door pulled the dead agents out of the house, knowing they were at a disadvantage with the men being where they were.
Silence fell once the gunfire ceased, which made Ra Ra and Fat Money even more paranoid. They looked around with their guns aimed at the windows and doors. They were ready for whatever.
A voice came from outside of the house. It was an agent trying to get their attention.
“You men in the house! My name is Agent Smith. I’m with the FBI. We came here to talk to Candy Smith about her truck!”
“You should have thought about talking to her before you kicked the muthafucking door open, making a nigga think we were getting robbed!” Fat Money said.
“My sister ain’t home anyway. Plus, it’s too early for you to be coming here talking and shit!” Ra Ra yelled out.
While Agent Smith continued talking, agents managed to get into the house.
“You’re right, my friend, it is too early. But as you can see, we can’t leave now. You killed two of my guys. So, we have a big problem!”
“First off, you ain’t got no muthafucking friends in this house! As for the ‘we’ thing, we don’t have a problem, since we’ll kill the rest of y’all!” Ra Ra said.
Fat Money then made the move by closing in and firing rounds through the window. At the same time, agents were climbing through the second-floor windows, so they could have another angle of attack. Fat Money was so paranoid that he swept his gun back and forth. Right then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw someone creeping down the steps. He shifted fast and fired the AR-15 on the agents.
“I’ll kill all of you, muthafuckas!” Fat Money yelled out, with his finger pressing up against the trigger and sending bursts of fire through the air while lighting up the inside of the house as bullets spit from the gun.
Fat Money started charging toward the steps, killing the agent in front. As his body fell down the steps, Fat Money was so focused on adding a few more rounds to his body to assure his death, that he slipped on the agent that was backing the other agent up. He fired on Fat Money and hit him in the chest, legs, shoulder, and stomach, thrusting Money’s body against the wall and dropping him and his weapon.
Ra Ra saw this and opened up, spraying the fully modified AR-15 to unleash the entire clip as long as his finger was on the trigger. He killed the agent that was focused on taking Money down. Again, the house and outside of the house fell silent as he rushed over to Fat Money, who was choking on his own blood. He was just seconds away from death.
“You going to be good, my nigga. Don’t close your eyes. We got them. It’s time to get out of here now,” Ra Ra said, knowing his homie was near death. “Money, come on, man!” Ra Ra’s voice broke, feeling the pain of losing his childhood friend.
Fat Money held onto life while gripping his gun.
A shot rang out inside of the house, coming from behind Ra Ra, that slammed into his side and shoulder and forced him forward. The crazy thing was that Fat Money’s last gangsta moment of life was that he squeezed off a burst of rounds that crushed Agent Smith’s chest and skull, dropping him where he stood.
Fat Money was no more at exactly 5:45 a.m. His eyes were still open, but no one was in there. He lived like a gangsta and hustled ‘til the end.
Ra Ra closed Money’s eyes.
“I’ll see you on the other side, my nigga,” he said as he got up and headed into the kitchen to grab his bag of money that he kept in there.
It was quiet, so he looked out of the window and saw no one in sight. He slid out of the house wounded and got into his whip. Agent Smith didn’t feel the need to bring more than the agents he had, because he figured he had the element of surprise. But his decision cost him his life as well as the lives of the other agents.
Ra Ra called Tommy Guns right away.
~ ~ ~
When I saw the number come across my phone that early in the morning, I knew something was wrong. Besides, it had been going that way lately anyway.
“What’s good, Ra Ra?” I asked half asleep.
“Shit just got crazy at my sister’s spot. The Feds came fast and killed Fat Money, but he went out with a bang. I’m hit up, too, but them Fed niggas is dead.”
“Yo, shit is crazy. Go to the hospital and get right. Then come see me. I’ll be on point just in case them Feds come my way.”
“They may have traced the truck back to my sis. They acted like they was there to talk to her and shit.”
“All right. Hit me up when you come from the hospital,” I said before hanging up the phone.
I knew I couldn’t go back to sleep after hearing some shit like that. Just like before the Feds got the full-court press on making me feel like the walls were closing in fast, I had a feeling that my time may be coming to an end, just like homie Fat Money. I was going to miss that nigga as real as he was.
CHAPTER 17
AT 11:05 A.M. RA RA, Little D, and Geez were all at my hotel suite where Candy and I stayed overnight. But now with the call I got this morning, I knew I couldn’t stay in this city any longer.
“Yo, Ra Ra, you feeling better now, my nigga?”
“I’ma make you know. Plus, I made it out of there alive and not in a jail cell.”
“I got a lot of love for y’all ATL niggas. Y’all been holding me down since I came into this city, but it’s time I moved on until the heat dies down. Ra Ra, you got to leave for awhile, too. So Little D, you and Geez have to take over the game and step it up,” I said before I paused, thinking about the homie Fat Money going out like a G. “Geez, you and Little D take Money’s mom one hundred racks for the funeral and his kids, and let her know that as long as we breathing, they good. Ra Ra, you have to head to the border, so how’s Mexico sound for you?”
“I know a little Spanish from school, but I guess I’ll have to pick it up even more now.”
Candy came in between us to hug Ra Ra.
“I love you, Bro. Take care of yourself and don’t get killed out there,” she said, knowing how crazy that country could be.
“I made it this far in life, so Mexico is going to be low key.”
Ra Ra gave his parting love to everyone before leaving and jumping in his whip toward the border.
“Geez, I’ll meet you and D downstairs in a few minutes, all right?”
“We’ll be downstairs.”
Once they left, Candy embraced me. She was scared of me and her brother leaving. The fear made her horny, so we had a quick round of sex in the bed and in the shower. Once we were done, I kissed her goodbye and then made my way down to the homies standing by the stolen 760Li. I popped the trunk of the BMW, took out the bag of bricks, and handed them over.
“Here are forty-eight joints up in here, more than enough for y’all to take over and change the game in y’all’s hood and more. I’ll be back in a few months, but I’ll still call weekly to see if y’all need anything.”
“Be easy no matter where you land at, my nigga,” Geez said.
“Yeah, we going to move this work in no time.”
“Little D and Geez, be smart and move slow. It’s how you last in this game, all right?”
“You already know!” Geez said.
I dapped the homies up bef
ore getting into the BMW and taking off, leaving this city I loved so much, along with the women and the realest niggas I ever met. I had close to two hundred racks, which was more than enough for me to do whatever I needed to do and stay low wherever I landed. Besides, if I needed bread, I would hit the little homies up for my cash flow or head back up North to my stash houses.
CHAPTER 18
THE FBI, LOCAL LAW enforcement, and multiple media outlets were all over Candy’s house at 3:04 p.m. in response to the downed agents. Agent Johnson was present after hearing that his long-time friend had been gunned down. It really choked him up, and he wanted to avenge his brother in arms.
“They killed him. I can’t believe they killed him!” Agent Johnson said, torn apart over his partner’s death. “We have to take these sons of bitches down that did this. Death row will be the least of their worries!” he added, displaying his anger as he started kicking Fat Money’s dead body as if he could feel the pain he was trying to inflict on him.
“That’s enough already!” Jack Ross’s voice boomed through the air, upon seeing Agent Johnson acting out his emotions. “If you can’t contain your emotions, I’ll excuse you from this case.”
“I’m good, I’m good,” he responded vacuously.
FBI Director Ross felt a need to fly in after hearing about this atrocity. Sitting behind the desk or staying in the office would not suffice.
“I take it this is one of the goons that killed our agents?”
“Yes, sir. And from the looks of it, there were more men shooting, because one person would not have been able to take out these agents like this,” Johnson responded, not realizing that was exactly what had taken place.
“I’m thinking there may have been one other shooter because there are two beers on the table over there. And from the looks of all the casings, they were the same as what our agents were using,” Georgia Agent Jackson said.
“That’s a good eye, Agent Jackson. I need this entire house swept for more answers that will lead to taking down those that participated as well as Tom Anderson,” Jack Ross said.
Candy was just pulling up in a cab pre-paring to put on an Oscar award-winning performance as if she knew nothing about what had taken place. She got out of the cab and raced toward the taped-off yellow line behind which the media outlets were held along with the quidnunc neighbors.
“What’s going on? Why y’all all in my house?”
The agent closest to the yellow tape stopped her from coming across it.
“Ma’am, calm down. Is this your house?”
“Yes! Yes! Is my brother okay?” she asked as she began to fake cry.
Candy stood a sexy five foot one and weighed 110. Her innocent hazel-brown eyes sparkled with lust when she was in the mood, but now they were flooded with fake tears.
“My name is Candy Smith.”
Jack Ross came over after the agents made him aware of her presence.
“How are you doing today, ma’am?” Jack asked. “I’m Jack Ross, so this is your home?” he asked, wanting to get straight to it. Her tears meant nothing to him after he had lost agents. “This is Agent Johnson. We’re here because my men are dead, because they came to serve a warrant for Tom Anderson who we believe was driving your truck that we found in Virginia,” Jack Ross said as he led her and Agent Johnson back to the house and away from the reporters. “Where were you around five o’clock this morning, Ms. Smith?”
“I was at the Marriott Hotel.”
“With whom?” Agent Johnson hurried to ask.
“With someone I met at the club last night,” she quickly responded with a slight attitude.
“Does this guy at the club have a name?” he fired again, trying to catch her up.
“What the fuck is all of this about? Call the Marriott. They’ll tell you who checked in and out,” she fired back.
“Okay then. When is the last time you saw Tom Anderson, also known as Tommy Guns?”
“It’s been awhile,” she responded.
“How long is awhile?” Agent Johnson questioned, not trusting her.
“A few months ago.”
“How is it you’re here in Atlanta, yet we found your truck in Virginia next to a dead officer?”
“What dead cop?” she asked, unaware of this.
“You said three months ago, correct?”
“Yeah?”
“So, he’s had your truck that long?”
“He bought the truck for me but drove it the most.”
“So, you didn’t know he was wanted by the FBI?”
“No, I didn’t do a background check on him or none of the guys I see,” she responded.
“So, what do you consider yourself to him, collateral damage or what?” Agent Johnson said sarcastically.
“I’m the mother of his son.”
“Ms. Smith, excuse us for a minute,” Jack Ross said as he stepped away from her.
Candy stood thinking that she had fucked up somehow, but the Feds were really just temperature checking with her. Tommy Guns was their main focus, and also the person responsible for the deaths of these agents.
“Ms. Smith, come with us,” Johnson said while leading her into the living room where Fat Money’s lifeless body lay.
“Do you know this man here?”
Seeing his body dead made the reality of what she already knew all too real. Her heart was feeling for Money, knowing he was a good friend to her brother and her.
“Yes, he’s my brother’s friend.”
They didn’t need to ask any more questions. They knew what they needed to do next.
“Thank you, ma’am. You can’t stay here for awhile. If you have a place to go, I think you need to go there until we’re done here.”
“I’ll go to my mother’s house.”
“We’ll need that information, so we can stay in contact with you.”
They walked Candy out of her house as the reporters swarmed her for information.
Once the agents came back inside, they put out an all-points bulletin on Raymond “Ra Ra” Smith for the murders of the agents in the house. Now Ra Ra was on the run just like his big homie Tommy Guns. They were running for their lives and freedom. They knew they could not look back, because a jail cell was not in their future.
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All Eyes on Gunz 2 Page 7
