by K'wan
“Yeah, pop that shit now, Shai Clark,” Rah laughed. “After tonight, y’all niggaz ain’t gonna be worth shit on the streets. The Clark reign is over.”
“Fuck is you talking about?” Shai asked, stepping toward Rah.
“Don’t worry about it, son. You’ll find out,” Rah said, backing up to where a police car was parked. He hadn’t missed the fact that Gator was reaching under his shirt. “Tell the family I said hey.” Rah burst out laughing and jogged across the street to where a car was waiting.
“You wanna chase that nigga?” Gator asked.
“Nah, fuck him. Fuck was he talking about though?” Shai asked curiously.
“Maybe it had something to do with the meeting ya brother and them had? They was talking about beef wit’ the Italians and maybe other crews.”
Just then it hit Shai. That's what the fuck Rah meant. Everyone knew that Mike had pulled out of the relationship with Tommy, but he still needed a dope outlet. It all made sense. Bone's sudden popularity, the other crews’ newfound courage. Fat Mike had sided with Bone. The upstart had been flexing a bit more muscle, but he still didn’t have what it took to come at Poppa or Tommy. That would change if he had the full strength and influence of the Italians behind him.
“What's wrong?” Honey asked, noticing the look on his face.
“Baby,” Shai said, grabbing her by the hand and heading for the car, “we gotta go. I gotta get to my family.”
“What's wrong, cuz?” Gator asked, grabbing Paula and following.
“There's gonna be a hit tonight. I don’t know if they’re gonna try for Poppa or Tommy, but I gotta warn them.” Shai pulled out his phone and called Tommy. “T,” he said frantically, “I thought they had tried for you already. Man, it's some bullshit going on ‘round here.”
“Slim,” Tommy cut him off, “slow down. What are you talking about?”
“A hit,” Shai damn near screamed. “Fucking Bone. The Italians and Bone are gonna try to kill you or Poppa.”
“Shai, didn’t I tell you to stay out of this? I’m gonna kick your lil’ ass!”
“Tommy, could you stop being a dick for two seconds and listen? Mike is with Bone. They’re gonna try and hit one of you, if rtot both, tonight!”
“Shai, how do you know?”
“Would you please not question me on this, there's no time for it. Where are you?”
“I’m on my way uptown.”
“Head back to the house, Tommy,” Shai said. “We gotta warn Poppa.”
“I don’t think he's home. He said something about coming into Manhattan today. I think he was going to BBQ's on Seventy- second.”
“Tommy, find him. Find him now. I’m on my way, so I’ll meet you there.” Tommy tried to protest, but Shai had already hung up the phone.
Shai and the group hopped in the car and headed uptown. There was no time to drop the girls off, so they had to come along for the ride. Once again Shai found himself in the middle of some gangster shit. It was becoming quite routine with him. There was no tellingwhere this next adventure was going to take him, but he hoped his people would come out on top in the end.
Scotty was as silent as the grave during the ride uptown. Even though Tommy didn’t seem to think so, his legal situation was a serious one. If the police had a witness fingering him as the one who gave the hit on Heath, Tommy was fucked. With the jacked-up legal system, ordering a murder was just as bad as committing one. But Tommy didn’t seem to see it that way. He thought the same rules that applied in the streets carried over to the judicial system. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find out different.
Tommy's cell phone broke up the blunt session that he was having with himself in the backseat. “Hello,” he said easily. Fritz confirmed his suspicions about Lucius switching sides. He asked if he should murder him where he stood, but Tommy instructed him to wait. He wanted to punish the traitor personally.
“What's good, T?” Here asked.
“We’ve got another rodent problem,” Tommy said flatly.
Before he could elaborate on it further, his phone rang again. Suddenly his face turned white as a ghost. “Slim, slow down. What are you talking about?”
Sam came out of the corner store and headed back to the car. He had stopped to grab a quick bite and a pack of cigarettes before picking up his employer. Since coming to work for Poppa, everything in his life had been sweet. He moved out of his tenement and into a nice apartment, plus he was getting money—all for driving a car. When he had first come to work for Poppa, two weeks prior, he had certain reservations about working for a kingpin. As it turned out, it was the sweetest job in the world.
Sam walked to the car, paying no attention to the little Mexican with the flower cart. As soon as Sam got the car door open, the Mexican made his move. He pulled a large knife from the cart andsnuck up behind Sam. Sam's body stiffened as the blade went into his back over and over again.
The Mexican shoved Sam's body into the car and hopped behind the wheel. He stopped briefly at the corner to pick up another Mexican who was holding a duffel bag and they sped off.
Poppa had almost made it to the door when his phone rang again. Only a few people had that number, so he figured it must be important. “Hello,” he said.
“Hey, Tom,” Sol said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Nah,” Poppa assured him. “I just finished having dinner with James. He ran to the restroom, but he should be back in a second if you wanna congratulate him. Our boy just made the team.”
“That's great, Tom,” Sol said. “But I got something a little more pressing to talk to you about. Have you heard anything about Tommy catching a beef?”
“A beef? What kinda beef?”
“A serious beef.”
“Hell no,” Poppa declared. “Where did you get this from?”
“Our pal, Billy boy.”
“Goddamn that hardheaded-ass kid!” Poppa said, a little louder than he meant to. “How bad is it?”
“Seems they’ve got a witness. Don’t know much else about it though. Bill's gonna see what he can find out.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, Sol,” Poppa said, walking out of the restaurant. “I’m gonna talk to Bill and see what he knows. But first, I’m gonna call that bonehead-ass kid of mine.”
“Don’t upset yourself about it, Tom.” Sol tried to calm his friend. “Kids do dumb shit. I don’t think it's as bad as it sounds. We don’t even know the whole story yet. Worst-case scenario, he got a little sloppy and we fix it.”
“Or worse, he got a little sloppy and his ass does time,” Poppa corrected him. “Shit. I’ll call you back in a few.” Poppa hung up without waiting for an answer.
Tommy had really put his foot in it this time. To even have his name associated with a hit was dangerous. The police already hated the Clarks, now they had a reason. If they brought Tommy down on that murder, it would ruin Poppa's entire plan. Not only would he see his boy go to prison, but this would fuck up his retirement plan. If Tommy went to prison, who the hell was going to run the business? Poppa figured he would just have to put his retirement on hold. Retirement or not, he was still the boss of the family and Tommy had to be checked. Before he could dial the number, his phone rang again.
CHAPTER 25
“HELLO,” Poppa said, in an irritated tone.
“Pop, it's me,” Tommy said. “Where are you?”
“I should be the one asking questions,” Poppa said.
“We just dropped Scotty and Angelo off, and we’re headed
downtown.”
“What the hell is up with you and this beef with the cops?”
Poppa questioned.
“Pop, we can talk about it later. Your crazy-ass son Shai seems to
think that one of us is in some kind of danger.”
“That boy smokes too much weed,” Poppa joked.
“I know it, but he was pretty shaken up by it. Seems to think
that the Italians are out to have us murdered.”
/>
“That's crazy, Tommy. Mike was upset because I backed your
play, but he ain’t nuts.”
“Still, something has got Shai tweaking. You still in Manhattan?”
“Yeah, but I’m cool. I got some backup.”
“How many guys you got with you?”
“Just me and Butch,” Poppa said. “Sam went to get the car.”
“Poppa, I want you to go back inside and wait for me. I’ll be to you in about five minutes.”
“Tommy, you’re talking crazy. Ain’t nobody out here but white folks. Besides, I see the ride,” Poppa said, noticing his car. “I’m ‘bout to . . . What the fuck?” were the last words Tommy heard before he heard the gunshots.
Shai mashed on the gas, as they zipped in and out of traffic. He was driving so recklessly that Paula had started crying. Shai didn’t mean to scare her, but he needed to get to his father. Tommy was a gorilla, so anyone would be hesitant to come at him. That same rule might not apply to Poppa. Shai had a bad feeling about the whole thing.
Poppa's vehicle coasted to a stop in front of the resturant. Butch looked around before approaching the truck. He reached for the door handle to open it for Poppa when something occurred to him. Sam hadn’t so much as rolled the window down when he came to pick them up. Usually the young man would roll the window down and try to say something witty. This time he just sat behind the tints. Something wasn’t right. By the time Butch had realized what he had done wrong, the little Mexican had put his brains on the rear window of the truck.
Poppa looked on in shock as armed Latinos began to pour from the truck, waving guns. Poppa saw Butch on the ground twitching and knew he was up shit's creek. Between the men that hopped from the car and the ones that joined in the fray, there had to be at least ten of them. Poppa was out-gunned with nowhere to run. It was then that his survival instincts dusted themselves off.
Poppa grabbed a man that had been coming out of the restaurant and used him for a shield. A wave of bullets tore into the unfortunate man's legs and chest. Poppa would pray for the man later, but right then he had to get up outta there. Poppa pulled his revolverfrom his shoulder holster and let off two shots. One went wild and the other one hit a gunman. Poppa knew that he couldn’t win this fight with five revolvers, let alone one. His best bet was to take out as many of the soldiers as he could and escape with James through the back.
Poppa pushed the corpse-shield into the gunmen, causing some of them to stumble. He raised his gun and let off three quick shots. Before they could recover, Poppa jumped through the front door of BBQ's. He crashed hard on the ground and rolled down the carpeted steps. Poppa got back to his feet just in time to see the Mexican soldiers rushing behind him.
The people and the staff were running back and forth, trying not to get shot. Poppa dashed through the crowds of people, knocking over tables and bodies, trying to slow the soldiers down. He looked over his shoulder to see that they were still pursuing him. Poppa's only hope of escape would be to make it to the kitchen and go out the back way.
One of the soldiers tripped Poppa up, causing him to stumble, but he never lost his balance. Poppa rolled over one of the tables and fired on the gunman. The gunman's face exploded as a bullet slammed into his face. Poppa went to fire on the other gunmen, but he was out of bullets. After flipping the table, Poppa dashed through the kitchen doors.
“This way,” a waiter who was directing people through the fire door said. Poppa ran in the direction of the fire door, smelling freedom. He thanked the man and went to step through the door. That was when the man shot him in the back.
Poppa turned around and looked at him shock. Micco, who was Frog's right hand, stood there smiling, wearing a waiter's uniform. Poppa staggered down the side alley, trying to make it back to the front of the restaurant. Micco hit him once more in the back, but Poppa kept going. When Poppa had almost made it out of the alley, the gunmen caught up with him.
The first gunman to reach him hit Poppa in the back with a shotgun. The force of the blast sent him spilling out into the streetPeople screamed and pointed, but no one dared help Poppa. The gunmen took turns unloading different weapons on Poppa's corpse. When he wasn’t twitching anymore, Micco reached down and slit his throat.
The gathering of Mexicans didn’t know what hit them when Here hopped the curb and slammed the truck into them. Bodies flew all over and the ones who managed to avoid the truck scattered. Before the truck had even stopped, Tommy hopped out blasting. He fired from his twin nines not even bothering to seek cover. When he looked over and saw his father, it fueled his rage.
Here took one in the chest as he exited the vehicle. That still didn’t stop him from cutting loose with his sawed-off. A hail of buckshot splattered the Mexicans, causing them to back up. Here spent the shotgun and started busting his ,357s. They managed to back the Mexicans down, but they seemed to keep coming. One managed to get off a lucky shot and hit Here in the neck. As his body slumped down against the truck, his last thoughts were that he had failed Tommy.
Tommy was in a blind rage. He snarled, sending spittle running down his lip and chin. He was squeezing the triggers of his hammers so hard that his knuckles threatened to rip through the skin. Through tear-flooded eyes, all he could see was his father lying dead and the Mexicans continuing to advance. Hearing the sirens in the distance, the Mexicans began to withdraw, but Tommy kept firing. Even when both guns were empty, he kept squeezing the triggers. When the police arrived on the scene, all they saw were dozens of dead bodies and Tommy holding two smoking pistols.
“Drop your weapon!” a uniformed officer shouted.
Hearing the officer's voice snapped Tommy out of his trance. He looked around the scene as if he were seeing it for the first time. His father lay dead among several other bodies. “Drop the weapons!” the officer repeated. Tommy looked at his hands and realized he was holding two pistols. When he went to raise his hands in surrender, the officers opened fire. They hit Tommy at least a dozen times before he finally crumbled to the ground.
When Shai arrived at the scene, the police had the whole area taped off. Bodies and spent shell casings were everywhere. The first person he saw was Scotty. He hopped out of the car to ask about his father, but the tears in Scotty's eyes told the tale. He followed his eyes and saw his father's dreads sticking out from beneath a white sheet.
Shai dropped to his knees and began crying his eyes out. He couldn’t believe that his father was gone. He was numb as he knelt beside his father's body. Poppa was everything to him. Father, mother, mentor. His world and his hopes died with his father. The streets had claimed the greatest player.
Scotty tried to console Shai, but it didn’t help. Shai felt like he was having a breakdown. Angelo and Gator were standing near the ambulance, where Tommy's unconscious body was being loaded. Shai ran over and pushed past the line of policemen.
“Tommy!” he shouted. “What happened? Tommy!”
“He can’t hear you, Shai,” Scotty said. “They hit him up pretty bad.”
“Somebody tell me what the fuck happened?” Shai demanded.
“Don’t really know.” Angelo shrugged. “They dropped me and Scotty off and came to check Poppa. Next thing you knew, we got the call ‘bout the shooting. By the time we got here, Here and Poppa were dead, and they’re not sure if Tommy's gonna make it.”
“We gonna get these mutha fuckas,” Gator sobbed. “Lay hands on my family. All these mutha fuckas is going to sleep. We gonna get ‘em, Shai! You hear me?”
A rage began to build inside of Shai, a rage that he had never felt before.’ Murdering his father was the ultimate violation. His thoughts raced, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the body at his feet. He couldn’t think about Honey and school was the farthest thing from his mind. All he could think of was revenge.
“Yes, Gator. I do.”
Bone and Ahmad arrived at the ass end of the carnage. They watched from a distance as Shai knelt over his father's body. Police and a
mbulances were everywhere. Angelo almost spotted them, so they decided to leave the scene.
“That shit looked ugly,” Ahmad said. “Niggaz aired Poppa the fuck out. I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” Bone said, lighting a cigarette. “Just goes to show that no one is untouchable. Not even old Poppa Clark.”
“What do we do now, Bone?”
“The game is wide open, my nigga,” Bone said, letting out a cloud of smoke.
CHAPTER 26
GATOR, Swan, Scotty, and Sol stood and watched as Shai took a baseball bat to his trophy collection. He had been crying his eyes out since his father's murder the night before. Poppa was all they had and someone had taken him from them. Blood would be spilled for this infraction.
“Mutha fuckas!” Shai roared. “Mutha fuckas!”
“Calm down, Shai,” Sol pleaded. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”
“Fuck that,” Shai sobbed. “They took him and they’re gonna pay.”
“Shai,” Scotty cut in. “We don’t even know who did it. It could’ve been anybody.”
“Yeah, we don’t know who did the shooting, but I know who gave the order. Mike is the only one who would’ve backed a play like this. That mutha fucka is gonna get his head handed to him. I’m killing him personally.”
“Shai, you can’t go about it like that,” Sol said. “What about school?”
“Fuck school!” Shai snapped. “These niggaz gotta die.”
“Sol is right,” Scotty cut in. “There's too much heat on us now. You gotta do this the right way. Don’t fuck your life up because you’re angry.”
“We got soldiers for this, Shai,” Swan spoke up. “I’m gonna put every nigga out on the streets to find out who killed Poppa. Mike will get his when the time comes.”
“His time is fucking up,” Shai responded. “That's what fucked Tommy up. He played too many games. I don’t intend to play with these mutha fuckas.”
