by Amir Sanchez
Guess Who’s Back?
“Leaf! Get in here quick . . . You ain’t gonna believe who’s on the Channel Six news! Your man’s just beat the system,” said Sha’Ron as he stood in front of the TV tuned into the twelve o’clock news. Leaf rushed in just in time to catch the top story. They were talking about the release of a violent offender with an extensive criminal history consisting of guns, shootings, and even murders. The district attorney was preparing to speak in seconds concerning the matter.
“This is Lauren Buckman, reporting live from Graterford State Prison where Jihad Cooper is scheduled to be released in a matter of minutes. Mr. Cooper was sentenced in 2002 to forty to fifty years for the murder of a man in West Philadelphia and the shooting of the man’s girlfriend. Mr. Cooper has somehow found a loophole in the criminal justice system and has used it to gain his freedom. I’m live with District Attorney Ken Abraham who will try to answer one question . . . Where did our criminal justice system go wrong?”
“Well, for one, our criminal justice system is not perfect. We deal every day with witness intimidation, statements being changed, and police corruption. Mr. Cooper’s charges are not being dismissed; he’s been given a new trial due to ineffective counsel. A witness who should have testified on Mr. Cooper’s behalf was never mentioned in his discovery, which was a violation of his constitutional rights. Therefore, the district attorney’s office has no choice but to release Mr. Cooper on his own recognizance and give his witness a chance to testify at a new trial. No further questions at this time,” said the DA while turning from the cameraman.
Thirty minutes later, Jihad walked out of the jail being escorted by two COs. Lauren Buckman rushed to him and asked a question.
“How does it feel to be released?”
“I’m just very fortunate that our criminal justice system works in everybody’s favor. In this case, it was mine. My fight is far from over. Once I knock this case out, I plan to help my brothers who I left behind fight their cases as well. I want to give a shout-out to—” He was cut off midsentence before the two COs pulled him away from the media and led him to a van.
“Ain’t that some shit,” Leaf exclaimed. He was excited and happy to learn that his boy had gotten out. He was looking forward to seeing his boy on the outside again.
Meanwhile, across town, Jihad stood alone at a corner after being dropped off in downtown Philly. He was told someone would be picking him up, but he’d been standing there for almost half an hour and was beginning to think he’d gotten lucky and was going to be able to make his escape faster than he’d originally thought. He was about to walk away when he spotted a fine-ass Puerto Rican-looking woman walking toward him. She was wearing a long, tube top sundress. Her titties were bouncing with every step she took, and she had hips for days. Jihad immediately felt his dick start to get hard. It’d been five years since he’d had some pussy. He licked his lips and salivated just thinking about dicking this woman down. The woman walked right up to him and pulled him in to a warm embrace. Jihad put his arms around her, and she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.
“Hold my hand and walk toward the black van with the tinted windows,” she instructed. Jihad didn’t bother to even question her and did exactly as he was told. Whoever this woman was, she was about to get her brains fucked in that van. They walked toward the van and got in. As soon as Jihad stepped inside, all hopes of him getting laid flew right out the window. Inside the van were Amy, Adam, and an unknown agent. The fly Puerto Rican agent introduced herself as Vickie Perez. She went into her bag and pulled out a large sum of money and a belt, which he learned was fully equipped with an electronic listening device. He was given strict instructions on how to use it. He was never to remove the electrical device that was planted inside the buckle of his belt, nor was he to leave it unattended. If he did, a sensor would alert the feds, and the investigation would be over. In that instance, he would then be brought back to prison to do the remaining forty-five years out of his original fifty-year sentence. They also informed him that in the event that he was returned to prison, the agreement he signed would become public record, and they’d make sure to air it on the news so his prison and street friends would know what he’d been up to. They gave him five grand up front for him to use on any expenses he might need to further help him with their investigation.
He learned that they wanted him to help in an ongoing investigation involving Gustavo Santana. They knew that he was close friends with Gustavo’s cousin Ka’Leaf Santana, and they wanted him to link back up with Ka’Leaf and get him to spill some family secrets. Jihad’s heart dropped when he realized they had set him up to turn on one of his best friends. After the feds got done schooling him and warning him of what he was allowed to do and not do, they dropped him off at his mother’s house.
As soon as he stepped inside, his alcoholic mother immediately stood to her feet and walked toward her son. She had seen on the news that her only son had gotten released earlier that day. She’d been expecting him for hours; not so much because she was looking forward to seeing him, but more because she was running low on cash, and she knew he’d help her out.
“Would you look what the cat dragged in?” She said it more like a statement than a question. “I hope you don’t think your ass is staying here for free. You better peel me off a li’l something. I know your ass got money.” She slurred her words as she put her hand out, expecting Jihad to put some bills in it. Jihad couldn’t believe after five years, she was still up to the same old tricks. He was actually surprised she hadn’t been kicked out of the house by now. Before he was arrested, he was the one that paid and took care of everything for her.
Damn, ain’t shit changed around here, he thought to himself as he shook his head and walked past his mother, leaving her standing with her hand stretched out.
“Where you going? You need to give me some money, Jihad.” He made his way upstairs toward his old bedroom. He could hear his mom’s footsteps following close behind. Jihad immediately regretted listing his mother’s address as his place of residence.
“Same shit, different day, huh?” asked Jihad as he turned to face her. He peeled off two twenties and put them in her hands.
“Now, that’s more like it,” she said before walking back downstairs and into the living room. He was ashamed of her, but still loved her dearly.
“Clean this place up and no company,” he demanded before letting himself into his room. He couldn’t wait to get some much-needed sleep in his own bed. He entered his room and was surprised that his mom had been doing a decent job keeping up with it. He was even more surprised that most of his clothes were still there. He lay on his bed contemplating what the fuck he got himself into. It was clear that his plan was not going to go as he intended. The feds were too advanced to be outwitted. What the fuck have I got myself into? I done put in too much work to go down in history as a rat. Fuck this. Remembering his secret stash spot that held his Glock 40, he quickly went to retrieve it. Jihad’s thoughts were all over the place. He couldn’t stop his heart from racing. The many could-haves and would-haves plagued his thoughts. With tears running down his face, he placed the gun to his temple, believing that suicide would rescue him from the extremely uncomfortable situation he put himself into. Just when he was about to pull the trigger, his mother’s voice interrupted his suicide.
“Jihad! Jihad! I know you hear me, boy. Your friend Ka’Leaf is down here with some nice-looking girls.”
Aw, shit, Jihad thought as he jumped up, tucking his gun in his waist. Leaf had no idea that he had just saved his friend’s life. Once he walked down those steps and came in the presence of Leaf, he was overcome with guilt. He knew he would either have to warn his boy or fulfill his obligation as an informant. Deciding the best choice for him, he gathered himself together. There was no way he was going to allow Leaf to see him sweat.
When he finally arrived downstairs, he observed Leaf posted up with two dime pieces, thicker than cough syrup. Ever
y piece of jewelry Leaf had on was infested with diamonds. He could tell by his swagger that he had gotten his weight up. Jihad walked up to his little homie to exchange hugs and shakes.
“Nigga, you got big as shit up in there. Something like the Matrix. I just came by to welcome you back home as you should be. Nobody could ever walk in your shoes, nigga, and now that you’re back, it’s time you reestablish yourself with us. Things changed a lot, homie, I got a lot of shit to catch you up on. Your presence with us is needed.” Leaf gave his boy a pound, “But before we get into all that, I brought these two young things for you as a little welcome back gift from yours truly. Plus, I’ma have a nice check for you tonight when you come to Freeze’s. So, go freshen up, wash your ass, and get you some ass. Enjoy yourself . . . I got you,” he added before leaving his homie to take care of his business.
* * *
Ring! Ring! Ring! Trish was seconds away from reaching an orgasm, all in Gus’s mouth when the ringing telephone interrupted her concentration. She angrily snatched the receiver off the cradle.
“What?” she barked, visibly upset about being disturbed.
“Yo, where Gus at?” asked Leaf, not giving a fuck about Trish or her attitude.
“Why don’t you call his cell phone? This is my line,” she snapped.
“Don’t you think I already did that, smart-ass?”
“Well, if he don’t answer his phone, then he’s probably busy. Bosses ain’t on standby, just the flunkies,” said Trish while slamming the phone back down to send Leaf a clear message.
“Baby, you ain’t have to say all that with your crazy ass,” said Gus while cracking up laughing.
“So what? That nigga fucked up my mood. Plus, that nigga need to know his position. Now, come on, Gus, and finish sucking on this bald pussy.”
After Gus put Trish to sleep with his pipe game, he hopped up in his 750 and called Leaf. After a few rings, he answered.
“Damn, nigga, I know you seen me trying to call you all fucking day, having to deal with your disrespectful-ass bitch. Slide through Freeze’s real quick. I got a surprise for you.”
“All right, nigga, I’ll be down in a few,” Gus replied before ending the call. Gus was irked at the way his cousin had just talked to him. Who the fuck this nigga think he’s talking to? he questioned even though he already had an idea of why Leaf was talking with so much confidence all of a sudden. Gus already knew Leaf’s surprise was Jihad being freed. He didn’t quite understand why Leaf would think he’d be excited to see Jihad again. Jihad was Leaf’s homeboy, not his. Truth be told, he had never been very fond of Jihad because he felt like Leaf always acted different when he was around. Leaf was a hotheaded nigga as it was, but whenever he was with Jihad, he got worse, and Gus didn’t like that. He already felt like Jihad coming back into the picture was going to be nothing more than a headache to him. Gus was sure Jihad’s presence explained where Leaf’s disrespectful mouth suddenly came from.
Get the Patrón and Tell ’Em That I’m Home
Freeze’s was an upscale neighborhood bar owned by a big-time drug dealer named Vic. The baddest bitches in the city attended the bar on a regular basis. Most of them came hoping to mingle and score with some of the robbers, hustlers, and ballers that threw money around as if it were hot potatoes.
When Gus entered Freeze’s, Lil Wayne’s hood anthem, “Money on My Mind,” cranked through the state-of-the-art speakers. Gus walked through looking like a million-dollar bill. He sported an iced-out Audemars Piguet watch, True Religion jeans, and a skull shirt. The niggas he passed while walking through only had their hand shaken if they were somebody. Others were lucky to get a head nod.
When Gus approached their personal reserved table, he spotted Leaf, Sha’Ron, and Jihad surrounded by a dozen skeezers. Getting a closer look, he noticed one of them sucking Jihad’s dick as he enjoyed his drink. This was common treatment for the Santanas and their associates.
“Look at this nigga here. What the fuck is up, my nigga?” said Jihad after pushing the girl away and fixing himself up. He jumped up to show Gus some love. He gripped him up and gave him one of those drunk I-love-you hugs.
“I told my nigga he family, and our arms always have and will remain open to him,” Leaf stated.
“Well, you know the rule, but fuck all that business talk. Let’s celebrate the nigga’s release,” replied Gus being clear to mention the rule which was: if you brought somebody in, they were your responsibility for good or bad.
Since Leaf was only the family’s basic strongman and main shooter, he went on and explained to Gus that he wanted Jihad to come in as the second shooter. He wanted him and Jihad to be the Santanas’ main security and marksmen. As much as Gus wasn’t too fond of Jihad, he couldn’t deny that the man had crazy shooting skills. As long as Leaf and Jihad played their position and stayed in their lane, Gus felt he was in a win-win situation. You can never have too much security was his justification for allowing Jihad in.
It was just a matter of time before the Santanas and their associates conquered every street in Philadelphia. With their mothers being out and moving in with the boys as soon as their two weeks at the halfway house were up, Gus was sure they were about to shut the whole game down and blow shit out of the water. Using muscle, intimidation, and hustle like a weapon, all of their hard work was going to pay off soon.
Meanwhile, Black stepping in, taking Gus under his wing, was the best thing that could have ever happened to him. Black was glad that Connie had reached out to him and asked him to look after the boys because now, all he had to do was sit back, put his feet up, and watch the money roll in from Gus’s hard work. Black had money before, but with Gus now in the picture, he’d be stupid rich. The nigga had more money than he and his family could spend in a lifetime.
Black was being extra careful in making sure his prodigy believed he was in full control. He was also making sure that all of Gus’s business transactions could not be traced back to him, just in case something was to go down. He loved Gus but not enough to go down with the ship if it ever started to sink. He appreciated Gus’s dedication and loyalty though, so he had already decided Gus would be his predecessor when he retired, which was going to be sooner rather than later.
He was amazed at how well things had been going since he put Gus on, and he was ready to pass the torch. He had already decided that in six months he would cut his ties and hand Gus the entire operation. His days as headmaster would soon be coming to a close. He was ready and excited to retire from the game and start to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Becoming a Star . . . (Rats)
Amy sent Jihad a message earlier in the day that he was to meet up with them at five-thirty that afternoon. The meeting’s location was the parking lot at Pathmark Supermarket off of Belmont Avenue. This was Jihad’s second meeting with the feds, and he was a nervous wreck. He still felt uncomfortable as hell in his new role. They expected him to give them piece by piece, detail by detail, every second he spent around Leaf or the two other Santanas.
He still had yet to figure a way out. But until then, he had to play it by ear. When he arrived in the parking lot, he parked the van where the agents awaited him. After briefly looking around the lot, Jihad cautiously exited his car and then slid in the side door of the van. He was greeted by Amy and the other agents. They appeared to be upset. Adam wasted no time informing him why.
“When are you going to help us with this investigation? Because, personally, I think you are just taking us on a ride. So far, all we’ve heard is you chilling with your homies, drinking, and getting your dick sucked. That’s not what we got you for. You’re supposed to be getting them to talk so we can get some inside information.” Adam was so mad, you could see the veins on his neck and forehead. “You know what? I don’t need your bullshit. This assignment is over. I’m taking your ass back to Graterford,” Adam snapped before throwing the clipboard he had in his hand across the van. He stood up and placed handcuffs on Jihad before sitting h
im down in the seat. The agent that was driving was instructed to head to Graterford.
Jihad stayed silent throughout the entire ordeal. In a way he felt relieved to be taken back. He didn’t feel right ratting on his boys and setting them up. He couldn’t argue with Adam because everything he’d said was the truth. Jihad had been bullshitting. He’d been stalling for days to avoid doing what he’d signed up for.
During the first five minutes of the ride, Amy tried to talk Adam out of returning Jihad, but to no avail. He wasn’t trying to hear anything. Instead, he got on his phone and talked to his supervisor.
“Yes, this is Agent Adam Steinberg. I’m just notifying you that the Santana investigation is being shut down, and the confidential informant is being returned to SCI Graterford. I’ll have a briefing on your desk in the morning, sir. Thank you,” he announced before disconnecting.
The reality that Jihad was heading back to prison began to set in. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He’d gotten a nice little taste of freedom, and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. Shit definitely didn’t go as he planned. He thought that as long as he gave them bullshit information here and there that it would buy him time to figure a way to get out of the bind he was in. But clearly, they hadn’t been as patient as he thought. The situation he now had at hand was life and death. He knew if he went back and his spot got blown, he’d be beaten to death, and he wasn’t trying to die on anybody’s terms but his own. The reality of that was more than enough reason for him to finally react to what was going on in this moment.
“Hold up, y’all. I wasn’t even given the opportunity to say what I learned. Y’all acting like this some shit I did all my life. I ain’t even get a chance to adjust myself.” Adam appeared unfazed by the speech, but Amy was curious to know what Jihad had learned.
