by Beanie Sigel
“Aaight, I’ll be there within fifteen minutes.” Terry hung up and Powerful handed the phone back to Anita who was still standing there.
“How’s the food?” She couldn’t have cared less about their conversation.
“It’s great.”
“Much better than some damn McDonalds. You boys eat up, and you better leave a tip!”
“Alright.” They all shared a light chuckle.
Terry made it to the restaurant before they finished their meals. He walked directly over to the table, making eye contact with all three of the men. “What’s up?” he asked, unsure of which one was Powerful.
“Waddup, sun?” Powerful said, glaring at Terry. “We got a problem, my nigga.” He shoved a fork full of greens into his mouth. “You see...”
“Slow down, champ.” Terry stopped him from continuing. “This is my restaurant. Unless you got a problem with the food or the service, we need to talk outside.”
“Maybe you’re right. There’s no need to cause a scene in front of these good people.” Powerful stood up and his men followed suit.
Terry led the way out of the restaurant. Anita stood at her usual spot behind the checkout counter. “How was the meal?”
“It was good,” one of the men answered.
“Great. Now who’s paying?” Anita asked.
Powerful reached into his pocket and pulled out a knot of crispy bills. He peeled off a hundred dollar bill and gave it to her. Without waiting for change, they left.
Outside, Terry and Powerful, walked to the parking lot with his henchmen a few feet behind.
“I know you drove a long way to come see me, so what’s going on?” They stopped and faced each other.
“My problem is I haven’t heard from you niggas since I fronted ya’ll them two bricks.”
“Wait a minute, playboy. You ain’t front me nothin’. I don’t need you to front me shit. I buy what I want and that’s it.” He looked Powerful directly in the eyes while correcting him.
“Yeah? All that sounds good, after the fact. The bottom line is ya’ll bought four bricks and I fronted you two bricks. You niggas made me get on the highway for five hours. Either you gon’ get me my fifty-four stacks or I’ma blow ya fuckin’ face off!” Powerful roared. He slid his hand towards the left side of his waist where his 9 mm rested.
As soon as Powerful’s goons stepped up and appeared to be reaching for their weapons, the door to a Nissan Maxima flew open. Twan stepped out, pointing a hulking AR-15 at Powerful and his men. A few cars closer was a Honda Accord. Jihad jumped out aiming his Mac-90 at the men. Across from them, Boogs hopped out of his shiny red BMW X5 with a black .40 Glock in each hand held high and ready to fire. Twan, Jihad and Boogs slowly approached the men without taking their weapons off their targets. Terry removed his .45 keeping it by his side.
“Listen, gangsta,” Terry began in a low, even voice. “I don’t know if you thought it was sweet because we’re from Upstate New York, or because we was sending that lame ass nigga Haitian to cop for us, but if you tryin’ to go to war, then you picked the right niggas. Is that what you want?”
“Nah.” That answer was his only viable option.
“I’ll tell you what, despite me feeling very disrespected, I’m still gon’ take the diplomatic route. Leaving you niggas dead in this parking lot would bring a lot of heat on me, and it definitely ain’t gon’ get you your money. I don’t know if you know, but Haitian got knocked. He only had four ki’s with him. That means there’s two more ki’s somewhere. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this shit, and if your work comes up I’ll make sure you get it. You got my word.”
Powerful nodded his head, agreeing to Terry’s terms. “Aaight, I’ma take your word.” He slowly began to step backwards with his hands in the air.
His men did the same.
“One more thing,” Terry said. The men stopped moving. “Take out ya guns and put ‘em on the ground, slowly. Don’t trip, I know you got more where those came from.” Terry smiled.
They unenthusiastically did as they were told, got back into the Galendenwagon and headed back to Brooklyn...
CHAPTER 5
Inside of the two tiered pod of the Onondaga County Jail, Haitian sat in a plastic chair watching The Maury Show alongside other inmates. It had been over three weeks since he had been arraigned on a long list of charges, including assault, two counts of manslaughter, resisting arrest and criminal possession of a controlled substance in the first degree.
The only time he was successful at pushing his situation to the back of his mind was when he watched TV. Once Maury went off, he went back to his cell, sat on his hard, uncomfortable and small bunk, and thought about his case.
Because of the seriousness of his charges, his attorney told him that he would be lucky if a plea for thirty years could be negotiated. Haitian began to think about what he would look like coming home at nearly sixty years old. There was no way he could spend that much time in prison.
He lay back on his bed contemplating his options. It didn’t take long for him to realize that there were only two. Either he could plead guilty and hope against odds that the judge would show some leniency, or he could cooperate with law enforcement to have his time reduced. After more than an hour of rummaging through his thoughts, Haitian jumped up, searched his cell for a business card until he found it, then walked down the stairs where the phones were stationed. He picked up the phone and dialed the number as it appeared on the card.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end asked. The jail’s automated system instantly chimed in informing the receiver that he had a collect call from jail, and in order for the call to be accepted he had to press the number 5. The button was pressed before Haitian spoke.
“Hello, this is Deshaun Obudalu. Can I speak with Lieutenant Shwarts?”
“You’re speaking with him. What’s up, Obudalu?”
“Listen, Lieutenant, I know I’m facing a lot of time. If you can work something out with the district attorney to get me a good deal, I’ll help you guys get some dangerous people off the streets.”
There was a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. “You have some very serious charges against you, young man. The assistance that you provide would have to be substantial, to say the least.”
“I can promise you that it will be.”
“Let me talk to your district attorney. Of course, I can’t guarantee you anything. That will be totally up to her. If she agrees, I’ll be down there to talk to you before the week is out.”
“Alright, cool.” Haitian hung up the phone, went back to the television area, and sat down just in time to catch the beginning of Jerry Springer...
CHAPTER 6
For nearly three days Terry had been holed up in his condominium in seclusion while he deliberated what his next move would be. The thought of retiring from the game crossed his mind, but after thoughtful consideration he pushed the notion aside. The sad reality was the more money he made, the more bills he accumulated. There were also a lot of people who depended on his financial support.
When the ball was handed to me, I took it and ran. My hustle is what provided a better way for my mother, Terry mused. I’ve accomplished a lot, but I know it’s not enough. I have so much more to achieve. I’m not giving up until I get all that I deserve. For every problem, there’s a solution. I just have to figure out how I’m going to survive this drought.
His cell phone rang, breaking his concentration. Terry hadn’t been answering most calls or responding to any texts, but once he saw that it was his mother, he picked up.
“Hello?”
“Baby, is everything okay?” Anita asked, getting straight to the point.
“Yeah, Ma. Everything’s fine. What’s up?”
“Well, I haven’t heard from you, and a few people stopped by the restaurant looking for you, too.”
“I’m good. I’m just taking a little time away from everything so I can get my mind right.”
“It’s
nothing wrong with that, son, but you gotta let the old lady know. You know it don’t take much for me to start worrying about you.”
“You’re right, Ma. My bad.” He chuckled.
“Alright, baby. Just make sure you check in with me every now and then.”
“I got you, Ma. I love you.”
“I love you, too...oh yeah, some boy called for you early this morning. I think his name is Jukwon, or something like that.”
“Are you serious, Ma?” Terry shot up, electrified by the news. “Did he leave a number?”
“Yeah, I wrote it down somewhere. Hold on.” He heard his mother rustle through some papers. “Okay, here it is.”
He inserted the number into his phone as she recited it.
“Thanks, Ma. You’re the best. I’ll call you back later.” His voice was filled with excitement.
As soon as he hung up with his mother, he dialed the number of his longtime friend.
“Hello?”
“Juk, is this you?” Terry questioned.
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“This T-Lova. What the fuck is good, bruh?”
“Damn, what’s up, my dude?”
“I can’t believe it’s really you. I...I thought you was dead.”
“Come on, baby-boy. Life is too good to be dead. What’s up with you?”
“Keeping it real, things haven’t been going too good. I mean, my paper is still alright, but it’s been dry as hell for the past couple of weeks and it’s hurting me,” Terry admitted, referring to the drug shortage.
“I heard about it. That’s why I found you. Even though I’m out of the game, I figured I could give you a little help.”
“Come on, Juk. You’re making me smile right now. What’s good?”
“You’ve always been my nigga, and we’ve always kept it one hundred with each other. There’s a way I can help you. But I’m telling you now, once I open this door for you, you’ll be walking into a grown man’s game. It’ll be nothing like the game you’re in now.”
“I understand what you’re saying, Juk. I give you my word I can, and will, handle it,” Terry promised.
“Alright. Say no more. Book a round trip ticket to Phoenix, Arizona, for tomorrow. You’ll get further instructions once you get off the plane.”
“Juk, I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
“I know, that’s why I’m doing it. I’m going to book a flight down there, too. I’ll see you when you land, kid.”
The two hung up. Terry didn’t quite know what to expect, but what he did know was that his life was about to take a drastic change. Although he was enlivened by the sudden change of events, he hoped that he was prepared for what the future held.
During the flight, Terry was unable to sleep. His mind was too busy running through all of the possible scenarios. He finally relinquished his thoughts as anxiety began to surface.
The plane landed at Arizona’s Sky Harbor Airport. He did his best to remain calm despite the butterflies that swirled in his stomach. People ambled through the airport either looking for family and friends or to get on a plane that would carry them to their destination. Terry looked around the huge airport, unsure of where to go.
A short, Mexican man, with black framed glasses, and a thick, bushy mustache walked up to Terry. “Are you Mr. Terry?”
“Yeah,” he responded cautiously.
“Buenos dias, mi amigo. My name is Speedy. Come with me, please.” He turned to leave, forcing Terry to follow.
Outside of the airport sat a brand new Cadillac CT6. Speedy opened the door, signaling for Terry to enter. Once inside, he closed the door and hurried over to the driver’s side and slid in behind the wheel.
Terry pulled out his phone to call Jukwon and let him know he had arrived.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t allow you to make any phone calls until after the meeting, for safety reasons.” Speedy did not turn around until Terry replaced the phone in his pocket. Once he relaxed into the back seat, Speedy pulled off.
Terry gazed out the window ingesting the beautiful Phoenix scenery as he was being chauffeured to an unknown destination.
Finally, the Cadillac pulled into the parking lot of the Pointe Hilton Hotel. It was one of the most beautiful, extravagant hotels Terry had ever laid eyes on. The allure of the hotel helped to ease his worries. They exited the car, entered the spacious lobby, then boarded an elevator. He remained a step behind Speedy until he stopped in front of a door. Instead of knocking, he removed his phone and sent a quick text. Within seconds, the door opened.
A tan complexioned, middle aged, Mexican man, with salt and pepper hair, and mustache that appeared to be freshly cut stood in the doorway. He wore an expensive maroon silk button down shirt, tan slacks that were tailored to fit, and a pair of brown Bally loafers. “Come in, Terry.” The man shook his hand firmly. There was no expression on his face. After the greeting, Terry walked in and Speedy left in silence. “My name is Alfredo Lajas.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lajas,” Terry replied as they slowly walked through the spacious, luxury suite.
“I’m sure you know who this young man is,” Alfredo said, as they entered the living room.
Jukwon stood up from the couch.
Unable to contain his emotions, Terry ran over to his compadre, embracing him in a tight, lingering hug. They were all smiles.
“Damn, sun. You’re big as hell now!” Terry said.
“Yeah, I’m working out. We ain’t getting’ no younger.”
“How’s your brother, Dymond?”
“He’s good. Trying to buy all the prime real estate in the south. We’ll have plenty of time to chop it up, but for now let’s not waste Mr. Lajas’ time, and get down to business.”
Terry agreed. He and Jukwon sat down on the couch and Alfredo sat in a chair opposite them.
“Jukwon was introduced to me by a very good and trustworthy friend. Because of that, he receives a high level of trust from me,” Alfredo said to Terry in a no-nonsense manner. “When he asked me to consider taking you on as a business partner, I’ll admit that I was a bit skeptical. Let’s not confuse skepticism with being suspicious. To alleviate any suspicion, I conduct an extensive background check on everyone I’m introduced to. My concern is if you will be able to handle all that comes with the amount of drugs I can provide you with.”
“Mr. Lajas, I can’t promise you that everything will go perfect,” Terry began. “Because, as I’m sure you know, if something has the possibility of going wrong, then sooner or later it will end up going wrong. But, what I will promise you is that I will handle any situation that needs to be taken care of with diligence and without fear. I will conduct this just like, if not more stringent than, any legitimate Fortune 500 company. I’m honored that my friend recommended me to you. Not only do I have to prove myself to you, but I will be representing Jukwon, as well.”
The room grew quiet. Alfredo eyed Terry’s demeanor as he sat with his right leg crossed over his left.
“These are the rules,” Alfredo broke the silence. “If you ever get arrested, you never tell on us, or anyone else. You deal strictly with the Zeta Cartel. No one else. You don’t do anything that will bring heat on us. Finally, you pay the money you owe. Our job is to make sure the shipment makes it to you. After you receive it, the responsibility becomes yours. Do you understand these rules?”
“Yes, Mr. Lajas.”
“Do I need to explain what will happen if any of these rules are violated?”
“There’s no need. I understand.”
“Fine. I will charge you fifteen thousand per kilo, with a minimum of ten kilos. Whatever amount you pay for up front, I will give to you on consignment. This price includes delivery. Here.” He gave Terry a smart phone. “This is an untraceable phone. You are not to use this phone for any reason other than to place an order. Your code is: cyote 23.”
Terry accepted the phone.
“When you make it home, purchase a mi
crowave, place the money inside and reseal it. Call the number inserted in the phone. You will be given an address to send the microwave. Once the money is received, you will give us a safe address where no drug activity occurs and your shipment will be delivered within six days. This method will be temporary. We have distribution hubs, but things will have to be worked out to include your order and that will take a little time.”
“Sounds good,” Terry said.
They stood and shook hands.
With nothing left to be said, Jukwon and Terry left the hotel. They spent the remainder of the day enjoying Phoenix and catching up on lost time. The next day, they left for the airport, promised to remain in contact and boarded their separate planes...
CHAPTER 7
Once again, Terry and his men found themselves having a meeting discussing the possible options for their future. They sat in the living room smoking, drinking and talking.
“The good news is that our days of going through any more droughts are over. I got in touch with a longtime friend and he put me on with the illest connect in the world. The bad news is Syracuse is just too small for what I want to do.”
“So, whatchu sayin’? You want to leave the ‘Cuse?” Twan asked.
“We’re always gon’ keep our roots in the town, but real soon we’ll be sittin’ on twenty ki’s of raw coke, and our supply is endless. If we try to move that much work here we won’t last long. We’re all known in these streets. Maybe we should start somewhere fresh.”
“Somewhere like Rochester or Buffalo?” Jihad asked.
“Nah,” Terry answered. “That’s too close.”
“What about D.C.? It’s a lot of money out there,” Twan suggested.
“Yeah, it’s money out there, but them D.C. niggas is burned out. You might be cool with them one minute, and the next minute they’re putting a bullet in your brain all because they’re fucked up off that PCP,” Terry explained.
“What about Philly?” Boogs suggested.
