TYCE

by Shareef Jaudon

  Nodding his head Tyce spoke, “That’s what

  I’m counting on, I’ma hit you tomorrow, be easy.”

  “Yeah yeah…I got you, I’ll see you tomorrow, peace.” Omar ended the brief conversation.

  Tomorrow night’s events unfolded in Tyce’s mind as he continued to roll down the blocks of LA. Out of habit, he kept looking for Lil’ Flash on the familiar corners but reality set in when the thoughts of his death came rushing at him like a running back. He missed his friend and that was a very unfamiliar feeling for him.

  Work Smarter Not Harder

  Things were going well for Biz; with the dope he stole from his rival Diego he was making a killing on the streets. Business was booming but he just had two little problems that irritated the shit out of him; fucking Tyce and that bitch Angelique! Lincoln and TJ proved to be useless…he knew they took Tyce way too lightly and they paid for it with their miserable lives. If he could, he would bring them back to life just to kill them again!

  His plan B was working according to schedule. Biz had Omar under his thumb and because of him; he knew every move Tyce made. He still had no clue where Tyce lived though…Omar wouldn’t give up that information. He suspected it was because he was greedy and didn’t want Tyce to die before he got paid off the last two hits. Biz could respect that although he’d never tell Omar that; he himself would have done the exact same thing if he were in his shoes. A man’s gotta put paper over problems if he wants to be rich, but the fact is that he wasn’t in Omar’s shoes, he didn’t give a fuck about Omar. He just used him to regain the dope he’d lost in the first place, now he had no more use for him or Tyce. With that in mind, he picked up the phone on his office desk and dialed a number he vowed never to call.

  “Let’s see if this pretty bastard can deal with this shit!” He spat out loud as the phone rang in his ear.

  “Bueno.” A heavily accented voice answered.

  “Buenos Dias…how you doin’ these days?” Biz asked leaning back in his chair.

  “Hmmm, if thes is the man who I’m theenking it is; I am wundering to myself…why the fuck is he callin’ me?” The voice responded irritatingly.

  “This is who you think it is…why am I calling you ask…now that’s the five million dollar question.”

  #2

  The room was packed wall to wall with people ready to lose their hard-earned money. I was caught off guard by the crowd and I really didn’t expect that many people to be jammed into the basement of a business that operated as cleaners by day and a mini casino at night. There must have been over two hundred people there…at one o’clock in the morning on a regular Tuesday night. My whole team was there, waiting and ready to get it on. I was pleased to see so many people in attendance, more people meant more money; we would just have to wait until the mob thinned out. I instructed the crew to blend in, I told them we wouldn’t move until later; there was just too many people there for the five of us to control. So we all fanned out; even though shit wouldn’t jump off now, there was still important work to do. I paid strict attention to the money and the men I saw handling it. The gambling dudgeon consisted of eight gaming tables. The owners set up roulette, black jack, poker, and craps tables; there were no noisy slot machines only big dollar tables with 20 to five hundred dollar minimum betting limits. The small bar in the corner was busy filling the glasses of the gamblers with free alcohol as they tried to beat the house. I ordered myself a rum and coke as I watched the pit boss at the craps table discretely take a thick canvass bag to the count room in the back. Two black security guards that looked like they were mixed with grizzly bear stood on either side of the door. I watched as bag after bag made its way to the count room. Angelique and Dallas were at the roulette table, Sway was on a roll at the black jack table, and Omar was stationed at the craps table. The staff was small but well organized: three security guards, eight dealers, two pit bosses, three bartenders, and one owner who floated from table to table checking on things. He was an older mature white gentleman who wore a plain yet expensive blue suit. He could have fit in at any Wall Street board meeting but his business was gambling and I could see why. I estimated the cash on hand to be well over six million. The Club House didn’t take in six million a night but the owner only removed the cash once a month so the count room had 30 days worth of profits on hand tonight.

  Two long hours later, I walked over to Omar at the black jack table and told him to get the gear and move the van closer to the exit ‘cuz it was almost time. The crowd had reduced drastically as the three o’clock hour approached. Now there

  were only about twelve die hard gamblers pressing their luck. Omar walked up the stairs out the basement to get the van that parked around the corner. There were no signs outside that a gambling spot was operating down stairs; all the guest entered and exited through the back door of the cleaners and only one man was in charge of searching each person and directing them to the basement. Angelique and Dallas were at the bar with a couple of dudes but they spotted Omar leaving and dismissed the interested men politely. They made their way to the ladies room to powder their nose and get the guns Omar was going to slip them through the tiny basement window. Omar grabbed the guns from the back of the van and slipped around the back of the building. He crept in the shadows of the alley staying close to the wall. A bright light shined through a mini window close to the ground. Kneeling down he tapped lightly on the glass to see if Angelique and Dallas were in position. The window lifted up little by little as a manicured hand gripped the edge and began pushing. Omar took the Mack 11 and three black Desert Eagle 9 millimeters out the duffle bag and quickly placed them in the open palm of

  Angelique.

  “Give me two minutes exactly to drop the door

  man.” Omar whispered loudly.

  “Okay, we gonna wait exactly one hundred and twenty seconds before we jump the shit off.” Angelique said taking the last of the tools from Omar.

  The husky guard was nursing a cigarette with his back to the parking lot when Omar walked up.

  “Hey man can I get another cigarette off you?” Omar asked nicely.

  “Yeah sure…honestly you just saved me five minutes off my life, I need to kick this habit you know?”

  The security guard chuckled as he looked down reaching inside his black leather jacket to retrieve the pack of “Marlboro’s;” Omar suddenly pulled out a tazer gun and plugged the dude in the neck, surprising him. His overweight body straightened up instantly as the stinging volts hit him. His body started to quiver and his eyes bulged as he tried to grab at Omar’s hands. Omar finished the job by punching the dude squarely in his jaw, knocking him out completely. He zip tied his hands behind his back and drug him down the stairs leading to the basement by his ankles, his unconscious head bouncing off each step. Omar paused at the bottom, quietly waiting for everyone else to get into position. Standing outside the door of the ladies bathroom, Sway and Tyce eyed each other.

  “You ready for this?” Tyce asked pulling the sleeves of his tan colored thermo shirt up around his thick forearms.

  “Yep.” Sway replied non nervously.

  The door to the bathroom opened up; Dallas passed Sway a huge grayish silver gun, while Angelique placed Tyce’s piece in his open hand. She took a brief moment to stare into his eyes. Without saying it, she told him she was ready and reminded him to be careful. He smiled and gave her a reassuring wink, topping it off with a gentle kiss on the lips. Dallas tried not to notice the kiss; she pretended to inspect her own gun instead, when she was finished she hid it in her purse.

  “Don’t worry,” Tyce said as he slid the chamber of his gun quickly back and forth. The guns were tucked under the front of their long shirts as both men made their way across the almost empty room. Spotting Omar’s shiny baldhead in the darkness of the hallway entrance, Tyce took a deep breath and started the party. Sway and Tyce walked swiftly up to the two men guarding the count room and sprayed mace directly into their faces. Instead of reaching fo
r their guns, the two men instinctively started to rub and cover their

  stinging eyes. Sway took his man down with a devastating right hook; his giant head collided with the wall and he fell to the ground with a loud thud. At the same time Tyce stiff kicked the man that outweighed him by a hundred pounds in his kneecap, breaking his leg. The giant of a man blindly screamed in agony as he teetered on his good leg, finally losing his balance and collapsing to the floor. Tyce spun around and faced the small crowd in the room pulling the gun from his waist and pointing it at the frantic gamblers. Everything happened fast as the team jumped into action.

  Omar rushed into the room-stopping to clothesline a woman attempting to dash up the stairs to escape the deadly situation. The force of the unexpected blow made her slam into the ground like a high jumper landing without a mat. She laid there breathless with one shoe on; the other shoe was laying on its side five feet away from her. Anyone that wanted to leave would have to go through him. With two guns in his hands, he covered the 12 customers left in the room.

  “GET THA FUCK DOWN!!!” He shouted glaring at the wide-eyed patrons.

  Everyone hit the deck like an airplane was flying too low, covering their heads with trembling hands. Sway finished searching the guards; relieving them of their weapons and pinning them down at gunpoint. Joining the festivities, Angelique and Dallas handled the dealers and bartenders. They rounded them up like cattle; making them pile on the floor behind the bar, one on top of the other.

  “Don’t fuck with me ladies and gentlemen…not tonight.”

  Angelique warned as she made the last person lay on top of the stack that was already nine people high. Tyce kept his focus on the slick looking owner of the club and rapidly crossed the room to the corner he was standing in. The man tensed up as Tyce approached. He stood perfectly still; keeping his eyes locked on the hammer in Tyce’s steady hand.

  “You know what I want…don’t make me ask.” Tyce said putting the gun in the middle of his sweaty over tanned forehead. The middle-aged owner licked his parched lips and started to ask a dumb question but thought better of it.

  “Get yo ass over there!” Tyce shoved the man.

  The man moved slowly toward the direction of the count room door. Tyce shifted his gun from the front his head to the back as he followed him closely. The team had the whole joint on lock down. The Los Angeles SWAT team would be proud. You could hear muffled cries and soft mumbles-everyone was on the ground except the boss.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Omar ordered. “It sounds like a muthafuckin’ day care center at nap time in here!”

  Angelique scanned the room to make sure nothing was wrong. Dallas on the other hand was trailing Tyce and the owner to the count room door. Tyce wanted Sway and Dallas to be there when the count room door opened in case there were more armed guards inside. They didn’t have to worry about the holice responding to any alarms because this was an illegal gambling spot in the first place. What they did have to worry about was armed and ready guards who heard the commotion and were waiting on the other side of that door. So as the boss man punched in the six-digit code on the panel to open the door; Sway, Tyce, and Dallas all prepared to shoot first and ask questions later, after all, you can’t kill money so they had nothing to lose. Sway stood to the side of the door as Tyce stayed behind the nervous owner and made him turn the chrome handle. Tyce went in first, slamming the owner into the door to push it open. Omar, and Angelique paid attention to their hostages but they cautiously eyed the entrance to the count room also. Tyce used the man as a human shield to protect himself, when he entered the room there where white counter tops along the wall and two office desks sitting in the back. The empty leather chairs were facing the door so that the occupants could see who came through the only door in the room. There was an island in the middle of the large-sized room with 11 tan canvass bags loaded on top. Electronic money counting machines were sitting on the counter tops with colorful trays of chips and bowls of rubber bands. Once Tyce and his human shield were inside the room, Sway stepped in military style with his gun drawn and a two handed even level grip on the handle. Dallas posted outside the doorway as a last resort just in case they needed her; she also took over Sway’s position and watched the still blinded guards. Angelique jumped on top of the bar to get a good view of everybody; she aimed her gun downwards at the people, moving slowly along the top of the L shaped bar counter. Suddenly she heard the sound of gunshots echoing.

  “Blam Blam Blam!!!”

  She froze in her tracks and whipped her head around toward the count room. She fought the powerful urge to jump down and run to the doorway, she knew she had to stay and cover the other people in the room. Her eyes widened with fear as she held her breath and tightened the grip on her gun. Omar stayed in place as well; Angelique gave him a look of panic which he did not return…he just stared blankly back at her. Dallas was standing up, taking shallow breaths as she poked her head in and out of the room keeping her body safely behind the wall.

  “What the fuck is goin’ on! What happened!” Angelique screamed at Dallas.

  Dallas was too busy scoping out the situation to answer her. Inside the room, she saw the owner lying on the floor with blood oozing from his chest and stomach staining his expensive suit jacket. Tyce and Sway were crouched behind the island, she couldn’t see anybody else. She made eye contact with Tyce who seemed pissed.

  “Stay back…stay back!” Tyce said waiving her off frantically.

  “Where the fuck did that short ass nigga come from!” Sway asked in between heavy breaths.

  “That lil’ nigga jus’ popped up like a jack in the box from behind the desk! You stay here…put some heat on that desk…pin that mini muthafucka down, and I’ma creep up on him!” Tyce whispered to Sway as he crawled around to the other side of the island.

  They’d been surprised by a trigger happy dude hiding behind one of the office desks. He wasn’t much taller than the desk itself so he fit behind it easily. He’d been over anxious and started firing before he even looked; accidently shooting his boss in the process. Now he was hiding behind the desk again, waiting for another clean shot.

  “Fuck you black motherfuckers! Look what

  you made me do! Fuck you…I didn’t kill my brother motherfuckers…YOU DID! You hear me…YOU DID!” He shouted hysterically.

  The crazed gunman punctuated his statement with four more blasts to the island counter where Tyce and Sway were hunkered down. BAP BAP BAP BAP!!!

  “That’s enough of this shit!” Sway said leaning out from behind the safety of the island. Sway shut him up by pumping round after round into the dense mahogany desk. The wood splintered into tiny pieces as the bullets dotted the front side. Staying low, Tyce crept hurriedly up to the huge desk as Sway was firing. He wasn’t worried about getting hit with one of Sway’s bullets because he was an excellent shot. Sway was lying on his back like he was getting ready to do some crunches and firing his silver gun rapidly. The man was stooped down with his guns on the sides of his ears to protect his head. He was completely unaware that Tyce was standing over the top of him. The undersized assassins head split open from the single bullet Tyce put in the top of his dome. His hands instantly dropped to his sides as his bloody head rested on his left shoulder.

  Careful not to use any names Angelique frantically asked again,

  “D, tell me somethin’…are they ok!”

  Dallas finally put Angelique out of her misery, “Yes, yes girl there fine…there ok now!”

  Truth be told; the reason she couldn’t respond to Angelique was that they were both sharing the same deathly concern. Both women were praying that nothing happened to the man they had both grown to love. Angelique felt her stomach relax as she heard the good news. Sway stood up and walked over to see the man who’d been wildly cussing and shooting at them. He sidestepped the body of the now dead owner on the floor without looking down at him.

  “You got the drop on that fool.” He said giving Tyce a congratul
ating pound.

  “Shit, without your help it wouldn’t have been so easy.” Tyce complimented. “But yo…we need to get the fuck outta here.”

  They started tossing bags of money out into the

  room and snatched the last eight bags up carrying four each. Omar greedily picked up the three bags that were on the floor before Dallas could get to them. Angelique turned and looked down at the terrified mass of people,

  “If I see anybody poke their little heads up, I’ll

  blow em off like I’m hunting prairie

  dogs…comprende?”

  They answered her with scared silence as she

  hopped down off the bar. The five of them made

  their way to the stairs. Tyce had one more important thing to do on his way out. He grabbed the logbook that everyone had to sign before they could get in to gamble. The club kept a record of all the people that attended the underground casino. The owner performed background checks on whoever he was suspicious about. Names, addresses, and phone numbers were all neatly printed in this priceless book.

  “Look here, we got the names and addresses of every muthafucka in here! Before you leave tonight, be sure to stop by the count room to see the owner of this fine establishment and his short ass brother! If you talk about this shit, you’ll end up jus’ like them! You won’t even make it to the witness stand or you’ll bury all your fuckin’ family members long before the