by De'Kari
Like the good girl that she was, Trina was taking notes, so she could give Voorheeze and Cantelope a full report. Nina loved her sister to death, but she couldn’t believe that she was actually sitting there taking notes with a pen and a pad like she was back in school. Nina smiled and shook her head at her sister. Trina was crazy! She was always “Miss Goody Goody!” but she was deadlier then a baby rattle snake when crossed.
Tonight, was a very insightful night for the twins, but just when they thought it couldn’t get more insightful their minds were blown.
“Trina. Girrrl you better look at this.” Trina knew whenever Nina was on to something juicy, she could hear it in her voice.
Trina stopped writing and looked up. She was just as surprised as her sister to see a Black and Pink Camaro pull up to the house. Everybody in the Yay Area knew exactly who drove them black and pink Camaros with matching rims.
Trina felt betrayed! Nina wanted to jump out and set it off! Whoever had just pulled up to that house was unmistakably a She-Wolf.
They waited eagerly to see which one of their sistah’s was betraying them all. The driver’s door opened, and she stepped out
“That low life cunt! Stank ass hoe!” Nina couldn’t believe who it was. Not her, it couldn’t’ be.
Trina picked up her cell phone and looked for a name in her contacts. All hell was about to break loose!
Anne was tired, hungry and cranky. All she wanted was a hot bath, some food and as much sleep as a girl could get. She hated long drives and lately that was all she had been doing. She’d moved out of her parents’ house with her little brother nearly eight months ago. He was beginning to be a handful and she was spending more and more time over in the Peninsula. So, she had gotten her a little apartment in Fremont, the half way point between Oakland and East Palo Alto. The apartment wasn’t much but it was her own and it was clean. She was too tired to drive all the way home. Anne knew that she couldn’t make it, so she decided she would stop off at her parents’ house in Oakland and stay the night. After all she hadn’t seen her little brother in almost a year.
It was the She-Wolves that had assisted Beast with that problem in Half Moon Bay with CSL. After the incident there was a little back lash, so, Anne and a couple of the others had to lay low for a while. Anne went to Stockton.
She quickly grew tired of that Valley life and decided she would take her chances back at home. Stockton was cool, but nothing was like the Yay Area. Not to mention that valley weather was just way too hot for her.
As she got closer to the house, Anne almost lost her mind. She wondered if maybe she was looking at the wrong house. Was it possible she had driven down the wrong street? The big rod-iron fence, the old faded yellow paint and the front awning told her it wasn’t the wrong house. Anne didn’t speak to anyone as she confidently marched up to the front door. Most of them were smart enough to avert their eyes, yet some had the nerve to stare her down. They were all kids. She didn’t understand it.
“What’s up big sis?” Just as she was climbing the porch, Sutton stepped out of the house.
“You tell me.” Anne responded as she continued to walk directly into the house, “Boy we need to talk.”
There was no way she was going to have this discussion in front of his little friends, she wanted privacy.
Needless to say, the conversation led to a debate, which led to an all-out heated argument. Anne couldn’t believe Sutton would disrespect their parents’ house the way he was doing. She tried to reason with him, but he was just as hard headed as their father. He even had the nerve to tell her that she had abandoned him for Neva Die.
As her instincts screamed out to her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Maybe if she wasn’t so pissed off she would’ve been more in tuned with herself. Maybe then she would’ve looked to her left as she passed the impala and saw the two silhouettes that stared at her as she passed.
**** N. D. ****
(Milpitas, California)
Lt. Boots was still pissed off due to the way the Captain spoke to him earlier today in the A.M. briefing room. Boots was a damn good Lieutenant and a hellavah officer. He was transferred over to this department to help aid in the restructuring of the Homicide Division and help he has. In the short time since he had been here he’d already solved four homicides that were giving the other detectives problems.
Boots was in his mid-thirties tall, lean, relatively handsome, despite the fact that he was bald. A factor he considered a reason for his bad luck with woman. Neva in a million years would he realize that his anal-retentive attitude is what runs the women away. That and the fact that he lived for the job.
To Lieutenant Boots it was all about fighting crime and making the world a better place. He didn’t see any other way. This is what drove him day in and day out. He was the type to work 12-hour days at the office and still take his work home with him. A damn good cop but a poor candidate for man of the year.
He just happened to be in the area when the call went out about an alarm at Milpitas High School. On a normal day he would neva take a call like this, but the cops who patrolled this area were both busy with disputes at the moment.
There had been a rash of break-ins lately. Meth heads stealing anything they think could get them a few dollars for their next fix. The school superintendent was worried about the new state of the art computer lab that cost a few hundred grand. Because his family had political ties, the Superintendent had been able to stir up some ruckus. As was his nature, Lt. Boots decided to help out.
When he pulled up to the high school everything looked in order. decided to take a look around. Not only would it satisfy his curiosity, but he knew it would shut the Superintendent up. He took a look around the entire campus once. Nothing caught his attention. Satisfied that the school was okay and that everything was in order, he radioed it in “3641 Dispatch.”
“Go for dispatch.”
“Ah yeah I’m over at the high school. I’ve had a thorough look around and don’t see anything. Everything looks to be in order, cancel; the call.” Boots spoke into his chest radio as he made his way back to his car.
“3641 you say cancel the call. Is that correct?”
“10-4 dispatch.”
“10-4 the call is …”
LT. Boots opened the door to his car and paused for a second. Something was wrong. His instincts spoke to him. He glanced around but didn’t see anything. When he sat inside of the car, he wiped his fingers on his pants legs. As he did so, the hairs on the back of his next stood up.
Why was there liquid on his fingers? It wasn’t raining, and it’s been a while since he had gotten the car washed. Something was wrong!
At the moment, he smelled the gasoline for the first time! Suddenly all the doors to the car locked themselves. Boots reached over for the door handle and yanked on it. Nothing happened! He yanked harder and harder still nothing happened. He reached over to the passenger side door and attempted to open that door. It didn’t budge. Worry and panic tried to sneak in, but he wouldn’t allow it to!
Focusing so much on getting out of the car he didn’t see the 5’10”, middle aged black man glaring at him through the windshield. He seemed to appear out of nowhere. Boots felt like he was being watched and finally looked up. When he saw the man standing in front of his car staring through the windshield with a sinister smile on his face, he lost the battle with both fear and panic.
The look in the strange man’s eyes paralyzed Lt. Boots. He had neva seen a more hateful set of eyes. Now with fear sending adrenaline throughout his body, the stench of the gasoline was getting unbearable! By now the liquid had time to soak through the bottom of his pants.
Boots looked around and realized the entire car was soaked. Gasoline was all over the place. Gasoline was poured all over the inside and outside of the car; that’s what the liquid was on his fingers when he got in the car. Then Boots remembered the man that was outside the car.
When he looked up he no
ticed two things. One there was a second larger bald man standing next to the first guy with a gun in his hand. Boots didn’t move. They already had the drop on him. The new guy was smoking a cigarette and laughing. Then he tossed the cigarette at the windshield. The car erupted in flames.
“3641 Dispatch!” He panicked while yelling into his radio, “1216 officer in need of assistance. I repeat 1216 officer in need of assistance at my last location! Need immediate backup!” by now he was practically yelling into the radio.
“Copy that 3641! Assistance is on the way.”
“Every available unit we have a 1216 officer who is in need of assistance, all cars in the vicinity of Milpitas High School.”
Lt. Boots could hear dispatch radioing help, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was desperately trying to get out of the car.
He knew the odds were against him, but he had to do something. Even if the fire didn’t get into the car, by the time back up arrived the smoke and fumes would kill him. He had to act! He reached for his service weapon and felt a hot white piercing pain shoot through his arm. Then another in his shoulders! He couldn’t move his arm. He looked down at his arm and saw blood, he was shot!
Voorheeze lifted the Desert Eagle and sent two more missiles into the cop’s other arm. This way he couldn’t shoot his way out of the car. He would indeed burn to death. Batman had rigged the car’s locks with his knowledge as an electrical engineer.
They both knew the amount of time the cop was locked in the car with the windows closed would cause the fumes to build up. Even though they wanted to see the rest, they knew they had to leave. There was no need to watch, they already knew what would happen next.
The pain from the gun shots were excruciating. He had neva been shot before. Boots was praying that his colleagues would get there in time. His heart raced as heard the sirens, he knew they were getting closer. Then it happened!
The built-up fumes inside the car seeped thru the bullet holes and ignited! The car was an instant furnace! The entire inside of the car was engulfed in flames. The intense heat and burning was too much to bear!
Lt. Boots made his final fatal mistake! He screamed! The moment he opened his mouth, he felt the most agonizing pain he had ever felt in his life. The heat from the flames seared his mouth, esophagus and lungs instantly. His death was quick, but those seconds leading up to his death were the worst of his life!
The squad cars raced down the street with sirens flashing and blaring. It sounded like an alien war cry! Car after car zoomed by! There were so many cars, it looked as if they were responding to a bank heist with hostages. None of the speeding cars paid any attention to the construction truck as they flew past.
Batman smiled as Voorheeze pulled out a Newport 100, lit it and rolled down the window. “It’s gonna be a hot summer!” he said to no-one in particular
Chapter XV
(Voorheeze tuck spot in Hayward Hills)
Voorheeze sat back down on the couch. He picked the keyboard remote back up and turned the volume down on the tv. Turning his head from side to side, he tried to see if he could hear anything. This is the seventh time he’s done this in the past hour.
Not only that but he has double-checked the alarm system making sure the alarm was on four times. He’d checked his desert eagle each time. His phone had been ringing but he wasn’t going to answer. He was convinced that his phone may be tapped.
SNIFF! He picks up the bottle of Remy and takes a gulp just as the doorbell rings. After checking the monitors, he buzzes his guest in.
“Damn! Niggaz ain’t locking doors around this mothafucka or something!” His tone full of irritation at his brother’s lack of security. The coke got him on full beast mode.
“Nigga as paranoid as you are, I’m surprised you ain’t got shit rigged to a five second delay before this whole bitch lockdown.”
Clark jokes as he walks into the room with an athletic sized Nike gym bag.
“Well I don’t nigga so next time lock the fucking door!”
“Whatever nigga save that tough shit for them.” Clark wasn’t trynna hear that shit today.
Voorheeze picked up the keyboard. He hit a couple of keys and the front doors locked. Next the alarm activated. He replaced the keyboard in his hand with a plate of coke on it, the size of a mountain. He made two huge lines out of the coke, each line about a gram. SNIFF! SNIFF!
“God damn Nigga!
“What?” Voorheeze looked up confused. He wiped his face put the plate down and reached for the bag. He unzipped the bag, looked at the contents and nodded his head in satisfaction. He reached into the bag and removed two stacks.
“Here!” He tossed them to his brother
“What’s this for?” Clark was dumb founded
“Nigga you looked out, now I’m looking out.” Voorheeze told him as he stood up with his head tilted to catch the drain.
“Rogue I don’t need yo money.”
“I don’t either.” Voorheeze said. Dead seriously. “Now give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“What if I wanna go outside? Nigga am I a hostage in dis bitch? God damn!” Clark joked with him.
“Folsom on lockdown!” Voorheeze called over his shoulder dead serious.
A little while later they were pulling up to Jing Jing’s in San Jose off First Street. On the ride over Clark gave Voorheeze an update on what was going on as far as A.J. and his team. The duffle bag was from A.J.. The shipment arrived like clockwork with no problems. However, somehow the last pick up of money had been overlooked by Voorheeze. Voorheeze had asked Clark to pick it up for him as a favor, because he could have sworn he saw a burgundy Jeep Cherokee following him. The first of the two bags were safely tucked away before Clark had brought the second to Voorheeze.
Upon entering Jing Jing’s, they were led inside to a Hibachi style grill, where their little sister was already waiting. She rose and greeted them both.
“Hey brothers!” She hugged Clark first, and then Voorheeze. Clark mumbled something then sat down.
“What’s up beautiful” Voorheeze said, returning her hug.
All the women that were close to him, he always greeted the same. It was either “beautiful or gorgeous”, except for her. He could neva greet her that way. How would she respond? She didn’t even know that he felt about her the way he did. She wouldn’t dare look at him that way. Whenever he greeted her, it was always cordial and respectful, but neva intimate or personal.
After placing their order and having a pint of hot Saki brought over in a little kettle made of bone china, they conversed low and briefly before the chef took his place behind the grill to work his magic. It was truly an amazing sight. The grill itself was approximately four and a half feet in length and two feet wide. A table was formed around the front and sides in the Japanese tradition. There were eight other people seated around the grill.
“Have you decided what exactly we’re going to do about our little situation?” French Tip asked Voorheeze.
The restaurant was loud and lively enough for them to hold a conversation in discretion.
“What little situation?” Clark was just putting his rice cup down from taking a shot of the hot Saki.
“Naw, I got some things in mind, but I wanted to get you guys insight on ‘em. Voorheeze ignored Clark.
“Rogue, what are you talking about? Clark didn’t like being out of the loop.
French Tip filled him in on the phone call she had gotten from Trina about Anne showing up at the house where the Young Nigga Mafia cats were. Considering the damage that they had caused to him and his team over the past few months, Clark was ready to get into that ass. Normally, the level headed and thinking one, Voorheeze was already finding her guilty as well as ready to pass judgement. French Tip was the voice of reason. She brought up a few valid points. Like Anne’s body count for Mobb alone spoke of her loyalty. Add the fact that she knew where multiple cash spots and stash spots were, and neva once was there a problem or a dollar t
aken.
“I’m just saying, Chiba wouldn’t pull nothing shady like that. She’s not built like that” French was expressing her trust and love by calling Anne by her handle.
“Man fuck that shit! She’s an Oakland hoe, and all them Oakland mothafuckas are shiesty.” Clark wasn’t giving Anne the benefit of the doubt.
Too much blood had been spilled already. He had lost too many people. One, was too many to him, and he was well past that number.
“Check it out! We ain’t going to bite each other’s heads off behind this shit. Clark, I feel your pain rogue, and about betrayal; you know I feel just as adamant about it as you do. But, sis got a point. As much work as Anne has put in for dis damn family, we at least owe it to her to explain this shit.” He reached for his Saki, and downed it, all the while looking at his baby sister. “But make no mistake about it, this is Neva Die over everything. If she’s guilty; She-Wolf or not, I’mma knock the bitch’s dick in the dirt.”
The last thing Voorheeze wanted to do was wrongly convict one of his own. T’Rida had brought Anne into the into the Family, so, if the wrong decision was made, he would feel like he was crossing his brother in the grave.
But he wasn’t gonna to let a Judas escape freely either. He decided it would be put on the table at the next War Room.
**** N. D. ****
French Tip had his mind going a hundred miles an hour, and she didn’t know it. Immediately following their dinner, he was on his shit. He placed a call to his little cousin. Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing! First, he thought Voorheeze was playing some type of practical joke on him. After reassuring Steve that he was dead serious, Steve instantly went into gear. His commission off this move, would net him over a million dollars.
Next, Voorheeze put in a call to Sam and J Styles; his two Lieutenant’s, and let them know, he needed to see them. The phone calls didn’t stop though. He called Cantelope next. He thought about calling French Tip, then thought twice about it. To him, she was just a little too adamant in Anne’s defense. Until he saw where her head was at, he would have to keep his sister at a distance. At least that was what the cocaine was telling him.
