by Teri Woods
“I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll be back for you again.” Craze smiled embracing her shoulder and kissing her cheek.
“I’ve been worried sick. I’m glad to know he’s all right. I’m so glad I don’t have to worry.”
“No, Dutch is good. We’re all good. Just take care of his dad and look out for old men with long beards,” joked Craze, gesturing at his homeless-man costume with its funny hat, long beard, and mustache.
“You just keep your head up, baby, and don’t let them catch you guys, you hear? Don’t let them catch you, Craze,” she said, hugging him and kissing the side of his face.
“Oh, shit, I almost forgot to give you this. Dutch wanted you to have this,” he said, passing her something wrapped in a brown paper bag.
“What is it?” she asked, taking the brown bag from him.
“Just a little to hold you over until I see you again,” he said as he waved good-bye to her just before the elevator doors closed.
Delores waved good-bye and shut her apartment door. Relieved was the word to best describe how she felt. She walked into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and looked into the bag. She counted out half a million dollars, three stacks of nothing but hundreds, wrapped in a grocery bag. He is alive. I knew he was. Her heart skipped a beat. She smiled and closed the bag.
Paris, France
Goldilocks couldn’t wait to see Dutch with her own eyes and finally get him and his team into FBI custody. She smirked at the thought of how slick she had been. Technically, she was winning. She threw Angel off three years ago when they were back in jail. And the whole time they had been together, nothing ever threatened her relationship with Angel. The relationship was smooth sailing, and now it would only be a matter of time.
There were two black, bulletproof Cadillac Escalades waiting for them when Mr. Odouwo’s private jet touched down at Paris’s Charles de Gaulle Airport. They arrived at the Hôtel de Crillon. Craze had had one of the Charlies take care of booking the room a few days in advance.
“We’re all on the same floor,” Craze said, passing a room key to Angel and one to Rahman. He wondered how Dutch and Nina were making out. He looked at his watch.
“We’re gonna meet up in about an hour with Dutch. Until then, I’ll be in my room chilling if you need me,” Craze said, giving Rahman a handshake good-bye, before slapping five with Angel.
Goldilocks couldn’t believe it. In one hour she would be able to make a positive ID and alert the FBI. It was just that simple. At the rate she was going she’d have Dutch behind bars before midnight.
“What you smiling ’bout?” asked Angel, looking at Goldilocks, who was lost in her reverie.
“Oh�� nothing, just happy we’re here. Do you believe it?” she asked, diverting Angel’s question as they walked down the hall to the elevators. Goldi burst through the door as she opened it. “Wow, look at this place,” she said, spinning around in Angel’s arms.
“Shit’s crazy, right?” Angel asked, letting her go as she opened a door to the bathroom. “Damn, they gots the marble caked up to the ceiling in this chumpy.”
“Yeah, this place is beautiful. I’m so glad you brought me,” Goldilocks said, wrapping her arms around Angel as she began kissing her neck. Before either knew it their clothes were a trail from the bathroom to the bed. Not until Craze knocked at the door did Angel realize that an hour had passed.
“Shit,” she said, hopping out of the bed and throwing on her clothes. She opened the door and peeked out.
“What up?” she asked.
“It’s time to go. Why you look like that?”
“Okay, wait a minute, let us get dressed,” Angel replied, trying to close the door.
“Hold up, ain’t no us with that broad,” said Craze, letting Angel know to keep her broad in her place.
“No problem,” said Angel, knowing she couldn’t argue with Craze and win on it. She nodded, closed the door, and proceeded to get dressed.
“It’s time to go?” Goldilocks asked, ready to get dressed, too.
“Naw, B, you gotta stay here. It’s just the family tonight.”
“So I can’t meet Dutch?” Goldilocks asked, irate.
“What you worried about meeting that nigga for? You wanna fuck ’em or something?”
“Hell no. I just didn’t expect to be by myself, that’s all. You know I don’t want no dick on my plate.”
“You better not. That’s my pussy, you heard?” Angel asked, pulling her close and kissing her on the forehead before she left the room.
Goldilocks sighed a breath of relief as she closed the door behind Angel. That was close, she thought, realizing showing any sign of interest in Dutch around Angel wasn’t a good idea. Damn, I wanted to ID this bastard. I’ll get him. It’s just a matter of time. He can run, but he can’t hide.
Goldilocks threw her jacket over her shoulders. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity to sneak away and make contact. I know they are wondering if I’m okay. She walked down the street and turned a few corners, eventually finding a pay phone outside a tiny café. She swiped a call card and phoned in to her commander.
“Commander. This is Agent Reese.”
“Agent Reese, state your location.”
“I’m in Paris, sir.”
“Paris—Paris, France?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you been able to confirm that Bernard James is alive or have you made contact?”
“No, not yet, sir. But I will very soon.”
“Agent Reese, the sooner you can determine that Bernard James is alive the quicker we can take him down.”
“I understand, sir.”
Goldilocks hung up the pay phone, terminating the call. That was when she noticed a white van with dark-tinted windows parked across the street. Then she noticed three men walking on the opposite side of the street. She started walking down the street and quickly turned the corner. She turned around only to see the three men still following closely behind her. Goldilocks knew exactly who they were. She dipped into an alleyway, hid herself in a sunken doorway, and waited.
“Why the fuck are you here? You should have never followed me here! You better hope you didn’t blow my fucking cover!” Goldilocks yelled to the field agents.
“What the fuck are you doing out here by yourself anyway? Do you think you’re sightseeing? You’re supposed to be finding James,” Agent Shipp quipped.
Agent Shipp had originally been assigned to go undercover, but it was felt that Agent Reese would be a better match for Alvarez. Shipp wanted Dutch just as badly as Goldilocks, but he didn’t want to see Reese be successful in bringing him down. If he had it his way, he’d remove her altogether.
“I am finding James. I certainly didn’t follow you here,” she said sarcastically.
“Goddamnit, Reese. If I were leading this case I would have had James’s ass expedited back to the States yesterday. You’re starting to look like a damn rookie again out here.”
“You wouldn’t have done shit! You know what? If it wasn’t for me, Bernard James would still be a mystery to everyone. I’m going to be the one who brings Bernard James in whether you like it or not.”
“Well, you need to do it, and do it quick, fast, and in a fucking hurry, or you best believe I’ll be popping my fucking head back up your ass again. You got that, Goldilocks?” Agent Shipp said, leaving the hint of a threat in the air.
“Fuck off, asshole,” she mumbled as she watched him and two other agents walk back down the street.
Agent Reese hated Shipp’s arrogance. For years, the two had had a hate-hate relationship. But if he thought for one minute that he was going to bust her bubble, he was wrong. She had gotten this far without any help from the Bureau. She certainly didn’t need it now, and she certainly didn’t need Agent Shipp. Who the hell does he think he is? I already got Dutch. It’s just a matter of time. Goldilocks left the alley and went back to the street and blended in with the crowd.
DUTCH MASTER
Craze took Angel and Roc across the Seine in a small speedboat and down the same trail Nina had walked the night before. Dutch waited under the canopy of a cottage with three Charlies watching his friends arrive from a distance. As soon as Angel saw Dutch she couldn’t help but run to him.
“Dutch!” she yelled, still not believing that it was really him. She ran into his arms. Angel embraced him tightly. She didn’t want to let him go.
“I can’t believe it. It’s you, it’s really you,” Angel said, full of smiles.
“You all right?” he asked, happy to see her again.
“I am now,” she answered.
Roc walked slowly, taking his time. He had mixed emotions on seeing his friend, since he was still battling his own demons. Dutch looked over Angel’s shoulder and smiled at the sight of Roc. He let Angel go and embraced Roc.
“I miss you, my brother,” Dutch told him.
“I miss you, too.”
Roc held Dutch, taking it all in. Flashes of their lives, intertwined, and all the years of getting money, committing crimes, and putting in work reminded Roc just how much love he had for the man. He knew the forces of evil and the forces of good. He was and wanted to be a good Muslim man, but there was only a thin line between his faith and his reality.
“How’s your wife and the kids?” Dutch asked.
“We not together no more,” said Roc solemnly.
“Damn, I’m sorry, man. You all right?”
“I am… now,” Roc said, letting go of all guilt and all demons as he smiled at Dutch, thinking of all they had been through together—and now here they were, side by side just like old times.
“Come on, come on inside,” he said, giving Craze a pound and holding the door for him.
“Angel, why you kill my man?”
“Who?” she asked as if she had done nothing.
“You know who, Qwan.”
“Well, I figured that since that nigga turned state he was a threat to us all.”
How could he debate that? What she said was true.
“So, the two of you straight?” he asked, staring down at them as he paced the center of the floor. He had heard all about the two of them warring in the streets for territory, and he had heard the story of how Craze found Angel about to kill Roc.
“What’s wrong with you, fucking with little kids, man?” Dutch asked her.
“She’s crazy,” interrupted Roc.
Angel didn’t answer. She knew she was wrong, and she knew if she started that tit-for-tat shit, Dutch would simply shut her down.
“Listen, if we’re going to move forward, we got to leave all that bullshit behind us. We have the opportunity to make more money than we ever would have on the streets of Newark pushing drugs on the block.”
“How?” Roc asked.
“With these,” Dutch said, reaching into his pocket and flashing them a handful of sparkly ice.
“Wow,” said Angel, as if hypnotized, reaching out as Dutch poured the contents into her hand.
“That’s nothing. They got diamond mines in Africa, and right now I’m in a position to own and control a piece of the diamond trade.”
“I don’t understand. How’d you get into diamond mines in Africa?” asked Roc. The thought seemed surreal.
Dutch sat down and told his friends everything that had transpired. He told them how Odouwo had approached Craze and helped sneak him out of the country. He told them how he and Craze had put in work for Odouwo in exchange for their freedom. He told them about the assassination of Tita and how Odouwo’s family was now in control because of him.
“But you killed Kazami. How could you trust that motherfucker?” Angel questioned.
Dutch explained the connection and how Kazami had intended to kill his father and his uncle. With them out of the way, he was the next heir in line to inherit the throne.
“Who would have ever thought?” said Roc, as he got the picture Dutch defined.
“Yeah, but still, I don’t know if I would trust this Odouwo guy,” said Angel, knowing what they had done to Kazami.
“I don’t trust him. I don’t trust him at all. I don’t trust any of them. But he kept his word. He paid for your freedom and he helped get you here. But for now he’s using me like I’m using him. Don’t worry, I have something planned that’s gonna fuck him up. He don’t even see this shit coming. That’s part of the reason I wanted you two to come here with me.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Angel inquired.
“For now, nothing, just lay low. When the time comes we’re going to strike hard. Odouwo won’t even see it coming. By the time he figures out what happened we’ll be long gone.”
“Is any of this going to involve murder?” Roc asked, wanting to know what he was facing.
“Hopefully not, but you know how shit can get. We just gotta be ready for anything.”
Roc knew that probably meant yes, and he was afraid of that. He didn’t want to become the vicious, ruthless monster that he once was. But deep down inside he knew it was inevitable.
“I understand you brought your peoples along for the ride?” asked Dutch looking at Angel.
“Yeah, I couldn’t leave her behind.”
“You couldn’t?” he questioned, as if that was clearly the wrong choice of words. “Or you mean you didn’t want to?” he asked, knowing the difference.
“Dutch, she saved my life. I’m telling you she’s good. Wait till you meet her. You’re gonna love her,” assured Angel.
“I hope so, ’cause you lost one for that bullshit, ya heard?” he asked, as if he were Hov himself.
“Yo, I almost forgot. I got something to tell you,” said Craze, wondering how to break the family news.
“What?” asked Dutch, still ready to fuck with Angel about this broad that apparently had her twisted.
“Umm… well… it’s your moms,” said Craze, not sure how to tell him.
“What happened?” asked Dutch, all eyes on Craze.
“Nothing, nothing, she good,” said Craze, still hesitating.
“Well, what’s the problem?”
“She couldn’t come ’cause your pops is real sick and she said she had to stay behind to take care of him. She said she couldn’t leave him.” Craze stopped, saying no more. He figured there was enough for Dutch to digest in that one sentence. And there was.
“My father?” Dutch asked, as if Craze was talking about somebody else’s dad.
“Yeah, I seen the nigga, too. You look just like him, just like him.”
Dutch got up and walked across the floor. He stared out the window into the Paris night sky. My father. The two words kept bouncing in his head. He couldn’t believe what Craze had just said. His mother was with his father and they were together. The thought gave him a comfort he had never had, a comfort he knew his mother had yearned for all his life.
“My moms is all right?” he asked, as if that was all that mattered.
“She’s good, man. She was real happy to see me and even happier to know that you were all right,” added Craze, letting Dutch know Delores was exactly where she wanted to be and she was just fine.
He turned back to his friends, elated at the fact that the gang was all here, ready to ride or die for him, just like old times. Little did he know that the ride was about to get rough, and he would need his friends more than they had ever needed him.
ROC WIT’ ME
Nina put her coat on and grabbed her purse. She hurried down the busy street and into a tiny café. Hungry, she asked for a cup of coffee. The gentleman behind the counter passed her the cup.
“A dollar and fifty cents,” he said, waiting for her to pay him.
She looked in her wallet, but her money was gone. “Umm… just one minute, please. I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to find my money,” she said, as a young man slid a dollar and fifty cents onto the counter. She looked up and it was Trick.
“Trick, what are you doing here?” she asked, as if staring at a ghost.
&nb
sp; “I’m here to save you,” he said, as she dropped the cup of coffee, spilling the black liquid all over herself. Her skin boiled and burned. Nina screamed in agony as she popped up from a deep sleep covered in sweat.
“You all right?” asked Dutch, realizing she had been dreaming.
“I had a dream. It was my brother,” she said, rubbing her chest, still sitting up in the bed.
“Lie back down. Go back to sleep,” said Dutch, having no sympathy for her dead brother or her dream.
Nina lay back down next to him. As he drifted back to sleep, she lay silently thinking about her brother and what he said to her in her dream. I’m here to save you. So much time had passed since he was brutally gunned down in front of their mother’s home. Until now, Nina had stayed vigilant against the forces that took his life. She had developed a deep-seated hatred for thugs, guns, crime, drugs, and anything that resembled a fraction of the reason why her brother had been killed. When she first met Dutch, he was that fraction, and that was why she had refused to commit. She refused his love, refused his life, and now here she was, lying next to him.
“Forgive me, brother, forgive me,” she whispered.
Roc awoke the next morning with thoughts of his wife and his children. He missed them terribly. He wanted desperately to hear her voice; he wanted her to tell him to come back home. He wanted to hear that she needed him. He paced around his hotel room, trying to decide if he should call. He knew it wasn’t wise. He knew her line was tapped, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He grabbed his jacket and made his way outside and down the street. He found a phone booth next to a tiny café and decided to make the call.
The phone rang three times before someone picked up.
“Hello,” answered a man, the voice familiar to him.
Thrown off guard, he asked for his wife. The man didn’t say anything, creating a moment of silence.
“It’s Rahman,” the man whispered, knowing his name.
“Hello,” Ayesha softly said when she got on the phone.
“Yo, what the fuck is going on? You got some nigga in my house?” he growled at her.
