by K'wan
On the streets he was known as Panama Black, but she knew him as Guillermo Petti. She had first met him years prior while doing a story on an El Salvadorian girl who had been wrongly imprisoned. She had been the girlfriend of a drug dealer who was under investigation by the DEA. The boyfriend knew he was hot, so he got the girl to unknowingly drive a kilo of cocaine across state lines for him. The police picked the girl up and charged her with the drugs. Even though they weren’t hers, she took the charge for her boyfriend thinking she would get a lesser sentence as a first time offender, but they threw the book at her. After her incarceration, the boyfriend had abandoned her. Everybody in the neighborhood knew who the drugs belonged to, but despite them telling this to the police they kept the girl in custody and refused to go after the boyfriend.
Guillermo had been one of the biggest advocates for the girl, sighting the fact that the only reason they were holding her and not going after the boyfriend was because he was white and she was Hispanic. He was half right about that. Kahllah had done some digging into the boyfriend and found out he was the nephew of a councilman in Miami. He was protected from the law, but not from the Black Lotus. It didn’t take much convincing for the boyfriend to come forward and take the weight. Thanks to Kahllah’s article, the case had made national news and shed light on the epidemic of poor Latina women being used as drug mules. Guillermo was grateful for her help and promised that if he could ever returned the favor he would.
“So help me to understand how you’re tied into all this,” Kahllah told him.
“Look, it’s like I was saying at the house, I’ve been doing freelance work for the Brotherhood for about a year or so now,” Panama Black began. “It started out as small stuff, extractions, information gathering, raising hell . . . whatever they needed at the time. About three months ago they approached me with a business opportunity that I couldn’t pass up.”
“Which was?”
“The keys to the city in exchange for agreeing to help take out one of their own when the time came. On my life, I didn’t know it would be you. Shit, as far as I knew, you were a reporter. I would’ve never pegged you for an assassin,” Panama told her.
“There’s a lot you’d have never pegged me as. Now tell me about this keys to the city business. What does that mean?”
“I was told that me and my crew would be given the start-up capital to relocate to California and build a criminal empire. We could get as many bricks as we could move for less than fifty percent of the going rate, on the condition that we only set up in Black Neighborhoods.”
“All this is over drugs?” Kahllah was surprised. “This doesn’t make sense. Kahn has always bent the rules of the Brotherhood to the point of almost breaking them, but he hates drugs. I couldn’t see him giving you the green light to flood California. You better shoot straight with me or I’ll drop your ass off on one of these corners to bleed to death instead of taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m telling you the truth Kahllah. It was Kahn who first hired us to do the freelance work, but it was another member who approached us with the plan about the drugs in exchange for the execution.”
This was an interesting twist. “Which member?”
“Kahllah, you know how y’all do it, no real names and no faces. I do know it was a female.”
Kahllah stopped the car. There were only three women in the Brotherhood, including her. One of the women was no longer active and the other one had been killed in the line of duty a few years after Kahllah came into the fold.
“What are you doing? I need to get to a hospital,” Panama told her. He’d already lost the feeling in his legs and felt himself going into shock.
“I ain’t taking your lying wet-back ass nowhere. Here I am, trying to be amicable about this and you want to continue to lie. I’m the only female member of the Brotherhood. Get your lying ass the fuck out of my car,” she leaned over and pushed the back door open.
“Kahllah, either we’re talking about two different organizations or someone isn’t keeping you abreast of new members. On my kids, I’m telling you the truth. I met her once, but didn’t see her face because she was wearing a mask, but she was definitely Brotherhood. All her credentials were in order. She even had a funny flower carved into her mask like the one on your knife,” he pointed to the dagger hanging from Kahllah’s harness. In the hilt was carved her calling card, a Black Lotus flower.
Kahllah’s mouth suddenly became very dry. She pointed her gun at Panama. “What kind of flower was it? And if I think you’re lying, on my life and my order, I’m going to kill you right here.”
“I don’t know, it was some kind of crazy looking flower,” Panama said nervously, holding his hands up to shield his face from the gun.
“Then that’s too bad for your ass,” she cocked the hammer.
“Little Flower!” He blurted out.
Kahllah felt an icy chill go down her spine at the phrase. “What did you just say?”
“Little Flower,” he repeated. “I don’t know the broad’s name who commissioned me, but there was another female member there who I heard her call Little Flower. You hear the name before?”
“Yes . . . many years ago.”
• • •
Kahllah had been an initiate to the Brotherhood, barely sixteen years old. Priest had been her sponsor into the order, but once in she would learn a specialty field from different members. Her weapons instructor had been Tiger Lily. She was a cruel and hard woman with a no nonsense attitude. None of the initiates liked her because she was so mean, but she was arguably the best any of them had ever seen using an edged weapon.
One day Kahllah had been in class, clowning with one of the boys during Tiger Lily’s lesson. For disrupting her class, she decided to make an example of Kahllah.
“Since you obviously know enough not to need my instruction, why don’t you come up here and help me with this demonstration for the rest of the class, Little Flower,” Tiger Lily challenged her. Little Flower was a nickname Tiger Lily used with all the prospective female members of the Brotherhood. It was deemed that all women who took the oath would be named after flowers, to remind them that they were little more than pretty things, and not forged of the same steel as the men. There had been five prospects in Kahllah’s initial class, but she was the only one who lasted more than a month.
Cockily, Kahllah got up and went to the front of the class. She grabbed one of the wooden swords from the barrel that held them, ready to show off her superior swordplay skills.
“Little Flower, you’re good with a sword, better than most of your classmates, but those are not what we’ll be using for today’s demonstration,” Tiger Lily informed her, to Kahllah’s surprise. Tiger Lily picked up two devices Kahllah had seen before, but never used. They were hand straps, with claw-like blades protruding from the knuckles. They were called Tiger Claws.
“But I’ve never used them before,” Kahllah said.
“No worry, you’re such an expert I’m sure you’ll catch on quick enough,” Tiger Lily smirked, fastening the claws to her hands. “Meet me in the center,” she told Kahllah and walked to the middle of the room, where the students had formed a circle.
Kahllah was not skilled in using the Tiger Claws, swords were her area of expertise, but she couldn’t let Tiger Lily embarrass her. Strapping the claws on, she went to face her instructor. The fight was over in less than a minute. Tiger Lily had cut her up so bad with the claws that Kahllah had required stitches.
Tiger Lily was there while the medics attended Kahllah’s wound. She was a general bitch any other time, but she was looking at Kahllah almost passionately. “Little Flower,” she began, “I know I hurt your pride, but it was a necessary evil. The lessons we learn about death are only a small part of what makes us so efficient. We must also learn humility, which is the lesson I have taught you here today. Each enemy is to be approached with same preparation, no matter how big or small. To underestimate your enemies is to offer yourself up f
or death. Do you understand, Little Flower?”
“Yes, mistress,” Kahllah said just to shut her up. It wouldn’t be until years later that she was really able to digest the lesson Tiger Lily had taught her that day, but it would be the last time she ever underestimated any of her foes.
• • •
Kahllah’s head felt like it was spinning from the new development. So far she had a coup going on in the Brotherhood and a ghost who had come back to life to become a cocaine distributor. It was something straight out of a movie.
“Panama, I have one more question and this is an important one, so think very hard before you answer,” Kahllah told him seriously. “This person from the Brotherhood, who offered you the cocaine deal, did she happen to mention where the drugs would be coming from?”
Panama Black thought on it. “Come to think of it, she didn’t. Honestly, it wasn’t my business. So long as we got to eat, the coke could’ve come from the moon for all I care. One thing I do remember though was that she spoke Spanish fluently.”
That was the last piece of the puzzle Kahllah needed. Initially, none of it made sense but when she looked at the timeline of events the pieces started coming together. The attempt on her life . . . Red Sonja’s sudden appearance to enlist Animal in her schemes . . . on the surface it seemed coincidental, but Kahllah didn’t believe in coincides. Animal was not only going against Poppito, but the Brotherhood as well. Everyone was in grave danger. Kahllah stepped on the gas and the car shot out like a bullet.
“What are you doing? The hospital was back there,” Panama Black pointed out, looking at the emergency sign that was now behind them.
“Your legs are going to have to wait. I have to warn my family,” Kahllah said, steering with one hand and dialing her cell phone with the other. She tried Animal first, but he sent her to voice mail. She tried him four more times with the same results. “Shit,” she cursed, punching the dashboard. Her fool of a brother was likely walking himself into certain death and she couldn’t even warn him. She tired another number, and waited, praying that she picked up.
TWENTY-ONE
INSTEAD OF GOING BACK TO Cain and Abel’s apartment he drove them to an isolated section of Brooklyn, where they kept a large storage unit. Cain had an arrangement with the people who owed the facility, so they never disturbed his storage unit. This is the place they had chosen to execute the next phase of their plan. “He don’t look so good,” Ashanti said, looking down at George, who was stretched out on a blanket. His breathing had become shallow, and he was bleeding from the mouth.
“You wouldn’t look so good either if somebody hit you with a truck, would you?” Sonja asked sarcastically. She was kneeling beside George, examining him. In addition to being a kingpin’s daughter and trained killer, Sonja was also a registered nurse. She hadn’t practiced much medicine since she had come to work for her father, but she was their only option for getting George medical attention because they couldn’t very well take him to a hospital.
“How is he?” Animal asked.
“Alive, but I don’t know how long that will hold true if we don’t get him to a hospital to see a real doctor,” Sonja replied.
“We both know that’s out of the question. Patch him up as best you can and get him ready for our presentation,” Animal told her. He then turned his attention to Ashanti. “Let me holla at you right quick, Blood,” he led him from the storage unit and out of earshot of everyone else.
“What’s up?” Ashanti asked.
“What was that all about at the club?” Animal asked, getting straight to the point.
“What do you mean?” Ashanti faked ignorance.
“Don’t play with me, Ashanti, because I ain’t got the head for games right now. I’m talking about that business with shorty with the dreads. That girl wasn’t no street rat trying to save George, she was a trained killer. She could’ve popped your head off, but she didn’t. She froze when she realized who you were, like y’all knew each other. Something you wanna tell me?”
Ashanti lowered his eyes. “No . . . , I mean yes . . . shit I don’t know, Animal. I think I might be going crazy.”
“Why don’t you tell me what the deal is and let me be the judge of your sanity,” Animal said.
“I can’t say for sure, but I think that was Angela,” Ashanti said.
“Your sister? I thought she was dead?”
“So did everybody,” Ashanti said. “You know for years we looked for Angela. When I got my weight up, I even hired an investigator of my own to try and find her. The only lead he was ever able to find is when the dudes who ran off with her were found at the scene of a mass slaughter somewhere in Illinois. After that I assumed she was dead too and just stopped looking.”
This threw Animal for a loop because it was the first time Ashanti had ever confided in him that he continued looking for Angela when everyone else had given up. “Ashanti, are you sure that was Angela?”
“To be honest, no. I haven’t seen Angela since we were little. It looked like it could be her, but I can’t say for sure until I see her again,” Ashanti told him.
Things weren’t adding up to Animal. If by some long-shot the girl at the club was Ashanti’s estranged sister, how did she tie into Sonja’s people in Puerto Rico? The rabbit hole continued getting deeper and deeper.
“Fella, y’all might want to hear this,” Cain called out to them. Animal and Ashanti went back into the storage unit to find Cain, Abel and Red Sonja huddled around Cain’s cell phone, which was on speakerphone.
“Are you all listening?” A female’s voice came over the speaker.
“Who is it?” Animal asked.
“Her,” Sonja said in disgust.
Animal immediately knew she meant Lilith. “How did she get your number?” he asked Cain.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Cain cast a distrustful glance at Sonja.
“Don’t go racking your brains about how I was able to contact you. Just know that my reach is endless,” Lilith said. “So, you have allied yourselves with the traitorous whore Red Sonja, and made her problems your problems.”
“Wouldn’t be no problems if you weren’t trying to kidnap my daughter,” Animal said.
Lilith laughed. “Is that what she told you to get you to throw your life away? Dear boy, I was lead to believe you were smart, but obviously, I was misinformed. I can’t say that I fault you. Sonja can be quite manipulative when she puts her mind to it.”
“So says the baby snatcher,” Sonja capped.
“Shut your lying mouth, Sonja. I could push a button and have your lives all ended without having to leave my house if I so chose, so show the proper respect,” Lilith spat.
“What do you want?” Animal asked.
“You have sought to hurt me by taking my son, but George is a soldier. He knows the risks that come with being a part of this family and is more than prepared to die to protect us, if need be. How many of you can say the same?”
“What are you getting at?” Animal didn’t like where the conversation was going.
“It’s very simple. You’ve taken something from me and I in turn will take something from you,” Lilith said wickedly.
Sonja snorted. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”
“No, that is a fact, but here is the threat; if my son is not returned to me in a timely manner and in perfect health, I am not the only mother who will weep for her child,” she told them and ended the call.
“What the hell did she mean by that?” Abel asked the unspoken question.
The answer to the question hit Animal like a bag of bricks. “T.J. and Celeste!” he gasped.
• • •
When Gucci got out of the shower she heard her phone ringing. She ignored it, and continued drying herself and then started applying lotion to her legs. She had been having a rough few days and didn’t feel like talking to anyone.
No sooner had her phone stopped ringing, than it started again. Frustrated, Gucci reached
for her phone, ready to curse out whoever was blowing it up, when she heard the doorbell ringing. “If it ain’t one thing, it’s another,” she slipped on her robe. Scooping her cell phone off the table she went to answer the door.
T.J. and Celeste were in their favorite spot, sitting in front of the television, when Gucci passed through the living room. T.J. was so engrossed in the television program that he didn’t give Gucci a second look, but Celeste did. She had a worried expression her face.
Whoever was ringing the doorbell had started banging on it, heavily, irritating Gucci. “I’m coming damn it, hold on!” she shouted. In her hand, her phone began ringing again. She continued to ignore it until she saw Kahllah’s number on the caller I.D. “Hey sis,” Gucci cradled the phone to her ear.
“Gucci, thank God. Is everything okay?” Kahllah asked frantically.
“Yes, everything is fine. Are you okay?” Gucci asked nervously. She had never heard Kahllah sound so rattled.
The banging on the front door continued.
“Gucci, I need you to gather up the kids and get them out of the house, now!” Kahllah warned her, but the warning came too late.
• • •
On the other end of the phone, Kahllah could hear the sound of the door being kicked in, followed by screaming and gunfire.
“Gucci . . . Gucci, are you there? What’s happening?” Kahllah asked in a panicked tone. A few seconds later the line went dead.
• • •
Gucci was frozen in terror as men dressed in all black and carrying assault rifles stormed her house. The one leading the pack was a well-built Hispanic with a bald head. On the sides of his skull Gucci saw two devil horns tattooed. Her moment of frozen terror was broken up when she heard T.J. screaming. Her eyes shot across the room and she saw two of the black clad men trying to take T.J. and Celeste. Gucci’s parental instincts kicked in and she went immediately into survival mode.
