“Shit,” he said underneath his breath. “I’m never doing this shit again. I don’t know how Swag can do it.”
There was a knock at the door that interrupted Brad’s thoughts. Armand and Sandino came in.
“What’s goin’ on, fellas?” Armand had a stern look on his face, even though he was turned on by seeing the guys with their shirts off, sweating all over. He was so in the mood for some American chocolate, and the one who interested him the most was Brad. Brad had a tattoo of a bulldog on his right shoulder, and another tattoo of a necklace in the center of his chest. For some strange reason, big men always made Armand’s dick hard, like it was starting to do now, but he had to remain focused on why he was there.
“You all look like shit,” he said.
Some grunted, the others kept quiet, because they were fearful of what was going on—everyone with the exception of Swag.
“What’s the word, Armand?” Swag asked, knowing what time it was.
“Put your shirts on and let’s go!” Armand demanded.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Stan said, rushing to put on his shirt.
“Me neither,” Travis added. He was ready to go.
They all put their shirts on and grabbed their bags. The limo was outside, so they hopped in, not knowing where they were headed next.
Within minutes, the fellas were back in downtown Rio. They went back to the same apartment building they had stayed in when they first arrived. Going inside the building, Armand led the guys to the elevator, this time taking them to the second floor. Brad was pissed because he wanted to go back to the apartment they were in before. He had an idea why Armand didn’t want them on that floor. All he wanted to know was if Diamond was okay. He knew that sneaking up to see her would be risky. Armand probably had goons guarding that apartment around the clock, waiting to kill him.
They walked down a hallway, stopping and watching Armand as he opened the door. That apartment was smaller and plainer than the one they were in before. They no longer felt like kings. It had old-fashioned furniture, and all the walls were painted purple.
The fellas followed Armand inside. They were confused, and when Tyler opened his mouth to ask what was going on, Swag encouraged him to be quiet until Armand informed them of what to do next. Armand snapped his fingers, and Sandino handed Swag a big duffle bag.
“You have forty-eight hours to get this shit together. Let’s go, Sandino.” Like always, Armand and Sandino left in a hurry, closing the door behind them.
As soon as Armand and Sandino left the apartment Brad, Stan, Tyler, and Travis all took deep breaths of relief.
“Damn, man. I’m glad that shit is over,” said Stan, wiping the sweat off his brow.
“Bruh, you ain’t said nothing but a word,” said Brad, flopping his ass on the sofa.
Stan joined him, sitting beside him.
Brad took another breath, looking at Swag. “This is some scary shit. I feel like I’m in Scarface right now.”
Tyler laughed. “Dudes, I don’t know about y’all.” He took off his shirt. “I ain’t washed my ass in four damn days. I’m ’bout to hit this damn shower.”
“Not if I get to it first, ugly!” shouted Travis.
Before the brothers could race to the bathroom, Swag whistled. That got their attention.
“This ain’t play time. This is some real shit!” Swag shouted as he looked over at Brad and Stan. “B! Stan! Get y’all big asses up!”
They did.
“Swag, what’s up wit’ you, man?” asked Stan, pissed.
“Stan, shut up! All y’all in the bedroom now,” said Swag, walking into the bedroom.
The fellas followed Swag in the room. Swag flipped the duffle bag over and dumped out bricks of cocaine on the bed.
“Damn!” Brad shouted, never having seen that much cocaine in his life. “What the hell, Swag?”
“Man, shut up and help me cut this shit so I can get it packaged!” yelled Swag, pointing at the bricks.
Brad shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m doing this shit! I hope that fifty Gs is worth it.”
“Me and you both,” said Travis in shock from the sight of all that cocaine.
Swag got on his knees, pulled out a box cutter, and began working on the first brick. He was looking up at Brad and Travis with a pissed look on his face. “You both in it now, so deal wit’ it. Stop talkin’, get on y’all knees, and help me get this shit together.” He looked over to Tyler and Stan, who stood their dumfounded. “All y’all.”
The fellas kept their mouths shut and helped Swag with the bricks.
* * *
After fifteen straight hours of cutting and packaging the cocaine, it was finally over. The fellas came out of the room sweating and shaking like crazy. They all were under a little haze from being in a room with cocaine.
Brad, Tyler, Travis, and Stan had never experienced any shit like this before. They felt like they were in the 1991 movie, New Jack City, in the scene in the crack house, where the workers were butt naked, packing up the drugs.
Swag, on the other hand, was getting frustrated because he had to teach the fellas how to cut, measure, and pack cocaine. Normally, when he would get a big order like this, it would take him five and a half hours to complete.
Brad and Stan sat back down on the sofa. Tyler and Travis sat at the table. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. That was, until Stan started wheezing like crazy. He knew while he was packing that some of the cocaine went up his nose. Plus, being in a room that was small and full of funk was messing with his asthma royally. Stan went in his pants, taking two puffs of his inhaler.
Swag was the last to come out of the room looking like nothing had happened. This was the norm for him, except for having to be the teacher of his naïve friends, who didn’t know shit about the cocaine game.
Swag folded his arms. “Y’all a’ight?”
They all nodded.
“I’m about to wash up a little bit first. Then, Brad, you can go next, and so on,” Swag said. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.
After Swag finished, Brad went in next. In the hot shower, Brad washed and scrubbed his body hard, until his light skin turned beet red. He felt so dirty. His dirt wasn’t from being in the favela or being in a room filled with cocaine that would be any drug user’s dream. The real dirt was in his mind as he wondered what the fuck he was doing. This type of lifestyle was not him at all. He was just some simple dude from the Lou that had potential to one day be great, but now he was in training to be a drug trafficker.
He scrubbed his face, trying to wipe off the dirt and tears. “Damn, Mama Carter. I know you disappointed in me, but if you could ask the Man—”
Before Brad could finish his prayer, a loud bang came at the door.
“B, can you hurry it up? Other folks wanna shower too!” shouted Stan.
“Dude, shut up!” Brad laughed.
After Brad was finished, he came out wearing a red shirt, white shorts, and white Nike sneakers. The rest of the fellas went in the shower, washing the funk and cocaine off their bodies.
The fellas were a little more relaxed after having hot showers. Stan, Travis, and Tyler were at the table, playing a game of hearts. Brad and Swag were sitting on the sofa, watching a show on TV. It was completely in Portuguese, but they still tried to follow along with the storyline. No one was upbeat. This trip and drug ordeal was taking a toll on everyone.
Just when things were starting to feel relaxing, a knock came at the door.
Swag went up to the door, but before he opened it, he looked at his boys and said, “Let me handle this. Don’t say shit.”
He opened the door, and there stood Armand, with Sandino by his side. Armand had a twisted look on his face.
Before Swag could say anything, Armand spoke up. “Let’s go. Leave your shit. It will all be taken down to the limo.”
“Come on, y’all.” Swag grabbed the duffle bag that held of all the packag
ed cocaine.
The others didn’t like what was going on. There was too much back and forth, too many orders, and they didn’t know what the hell was going to happen next. Nonetheless, they did what they were told and kept real quiet, hoping and praying that all of this would be over soon. They trusted Swag, so they followed his lead.
While on their way to the basement, Brad’s gut told him something was about to go horribly wrong. His stomach was queasy, and his legs were weak. With each step he took, it felt as if he were on his way to hell.
They all kept looking at each other, and when they got downstairs, Armand turned on the lights. The basement was muggy. Dust particles stirred around, and spider webs were everywhere. Stacked against the wall were more bricks of cocaine and piles of money. There was a clicking sound that caused everyone to snap their heads in the direction of the sound. Sandino stood with a machine gun in his hand.
“Yo, Armand, what’s up with Sandino and the gun?” Swag asked with thick wrinkles across his forehead. “Is all of that necessary?”
“Swag, you know I trust you. I just need a little insurance, in case your boys get some smart ideas about taking my money and drugs.”
Armand reached in his pocket, pulling out a nine.
Brad’s, Travis’s, Tyler’s, and Stan’s eyes were bugged. They wanted to make a quick run, and following Swag’s lead didn’t sound like a good idea anymore.
“What’s with the guns?” Travis asked. “We not about to die, are we?”
“Right,” Tyler said. “I just want to go home right now. Forget about the money. Forget about all of this shit.”
Armand ignored what they’d said. He nudged his head toward Swag. “What are you waiting for? You know where the masking tape is, so start taping the shit on. All of you take off your clothes, except underwear.”
“Take them off for what?” Brad shouted. “Hell no! I’m not going out like that.”
“Neither am I,” Stan said, standing with his hands folded. “Show me the way out.”
As Armand lifted his gun to Stan’s head, and Sandino’s eyes started twitching, Swag asked the fellas to cooperate. “Please. This is all about hiding the goods. I know y’all don’t like this shit, but we’ve come too far to back down now. Just cooperate and this will all be over with soon.”
They all looked at each other, and figuring that there was really no place to run to, the started taking off their clothes. What they didn’t expect was for Swag to start taping the drugs on their bodies. They thought the masking tape would be used to tie them up. Even though they were nervous about the drugs being attached to their bodies, this was something they had all signed up for.
With the guns still being aimed at them, everyone was now dead silent. No one wanted to piss off Sandino or Armand, not even Swag, who was happy to see his boys cooperating. He was done, and minutes later, Armand led them back upstairs.
They were about to get into the limo when they heard Armand shout, “Nooooo!”
They looked at Armand, and he pointed to a limo that had pulled beside them.
“What’s up, Armand?” Swag asked.
He spoke through gritted teeth. “Shut up, boy. Get in the next limo, now!”
They all were confused and stood as if cement had been poured over them.
“Get in the limo now!” he yelled again.
The fellas rushed to get in the limo, not knowing where they were going with cocaine taped on each of them. Armand shut the door, and as he spoke to the new limo driver in Portuguese, he slapped an envelope in his hand.
The limo pulled off, and all Brad could think while gazing out of the window was, Lord, protect me.
Chapter 12
Time Bomb
“Yes, sir,” the man said. “The boys are on their way to the airport. Have everyone ready.”
“All right. Thank you,” Duke said with a smile on his face, rubbing his hands together.
The man turned off his cell. He and Armand laughed.
“No one can bring down Armand Castro. Once they catch Swag and his crew, no one will ever bring that shit back to me,” said Armand, still laughing.
The man nodded. “Yeah, you know how those stupid American black niggers are, especially with that no-snitching shit.”
The man laughed as he lowered his head to sniff the cocaine in front of him. He had all of the free cocaine he wanted in Armand’s basement, with unlimited access to not only the cocaine, but to Armand’s money too.
“Officer, thank you for portraying the limo driver. Your boss has been trying to bring me down for years. I can’t believe he was so close. Someone close to me must be working with him.” Armand looked over at the officer snorting cocaine like crazy. “Officer, what updates do you have?”
The officer lifted his head then wiped white powder from the tip of his nose. “Once a week he goes to the Sheraton Rio Hotel and Resort on his lunch break.”
“And? What does that shit have to do with him almost busting me?” Armand didn’t like when people spoke in riddles. He also didn’t appreciate this stupid motherfucker snorting his shit nonstop and having the audacity to work for the government.
He reached in his pants pocket, pulling out photos. Sandino snatched the pictures then gave them to Armand. He flipped through the photos of Duke going to the hotel. Another looked as if Taylor was going in behind him moments later. The third one was of Taylor coming out, and the fourth photo was of Duke coming out minutes later. Armand tossed the pictures in the officer’s face.
“What the fuck is this shit? This photo is my whore of a wife, possibly going to screw one of her many sex partners. How does this shit help?”
The officer shook his head. “No. I think your wife is giving info to Duke about you and your organization.”
Armand couldn’t believe it. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I make sure none of my business is in my house where she can hear it. Besides, all that bitch cares about is how she looks and how much money I give her ass. No way!”
The officer was high as hell when he got up. He staggered a bit but somehow managed not to fall. “You must be really blinded or really stupid. Anyone can see this woman is playing you for a sucker. The truth is, you ain’t nothing like your brother! Your brother was way smarter than you.”
Armand wasn’t sure where this attack came from, and his blood started to boil. He grabbed the officer by the back of his neck, squeezing it. “What did your ass just say to me, you crackhead toy cop?”
“I said your weak ass ain’t like your—”
Armand winked at Sandino. In an instant, he pulled the trigger on the gun in his hand, firing one bullet in the center of the officer’s forehead. Blood splattered and dotted Armand’s clothes. He was standing too close. The officer’s lifeless body fell to the concrete, hitting it hard. Armand watched his brain ooze onto the floor, and all he did was smile.
“Don’t fuck with the real kingpin of Brazil.” He was so aroused by what had happened, and while looking at Sandino, he patted him on the back. “Get this shit cleaned up and bury this cokehead.”
Sandino nodded. Before walking away, Armand gathered a gob of spit in his mouth, releasing it right in the officer’s face. “Piece of shit,” he said then headed upstairs, dialing his cell phone.
Moments later, a female picked up. “Hello, darling.”
“Be at my place in a few. My dick is hard.”
* * *
While at the airport, the fellas were on pins and needles, waiting for their flight to board. They tried to act normal and look like tourists, but that was difficult to do. Their eyes kept shifting around, they kept looking at each other, and every time they saw a police officer, they held their breath. Brad was about to have an anxiety attack, so he rushed into a bathroom stall, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.
“Okay. It’s almost over with. Everything will be fine, and we’ll be back in the Lou in no time.”
He stayed in the stall for about ten minutes. After washin
g his hands, he met up with the fellas, and they went into a gift shop, pretending to look for things to take back home. Stan put on a traditional tribal mask and started dancing crazy. Swag slapped him on his shoulder.
“Man, take that shit off. We don’t need you to bring any attention to us. Damn,” Swag said.
“Just chill, all right? Besides, what’s up with your ass putting your hands on me?” Stan took off the mask.
“This is business, so don’t act like no ass. Let’s go to the Burger King stand.”
While at the Burger King stand, the fellas ordered burger meals and sat at the table in silence. Brad looked around and had a strange feeling that he and his boys were being watched. Plus, his mind was on Diamond. He wondered if he would ever see her again. He was so in a daze that he didn’t realize Stan was throwing fries at him.
“Brad!” Stan threw three ice cubes at him, finally getting his full attention.
“What do you want?” Brad threw some ice at Stan but missed.
“You seem lost. You okay?” Stan asked.
“Just can’t wait for this shit to be over so I can get my money.”
“Me and you both,” Tyler replied as his chest started to itch from the tape. He tried to scratch, but Swag slapped his hand.
“Fool, you crazy? Don’t do that shit here,” Swag said.
“Man, this tape is itchy. Got me sweating too.”
“Man up! Damn!” Swag took a sip of his soda. “Now, here’s the plan to make this a good getaway: When it’s time for us to get on the plane, we won’t line up together one by one. We’ll just get in line. Brad, you go first, then Travis, Stan, then Tyler. Me last. Got it?”
Everyone nodded, except Brad, who was still in a slight daze. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Swag hit Brad on his head to get his attention.
“What?” Brad rubbed the side of his head.
“If you over there thinking about that bitch, forget it. She ain’t yours and never gon’ be yours. Get yo’ mind right so we can take care of this business. A’ight?”
Beating the Odds Page 9
