When the gunfire came to a halt, close to one thousand rounds had been fired. One of the doors on the H2 opened up only to have a bloody wounded Latino fall out of the truck, spitting out blood from his lungs being punctured. Tre ran over to the nigga with his gun aimed at him.
“Y’all want me dead, huh? I take it my nigqas didn’t make it out of that meeting?” Tre asked with murderous eyes blacked by anger.
“They’re dead, punta, just like you’ll be!” the goon said to Tre.
“That greedy muthafucka killed my homies?” Tre said while thinking about Little D and Geez. “Now you’re going to join them, fool,” he said, before firing a round into the goon’s face and instantly killing him. Tre then turned around and looked at his homies in the hood. “Get the fiends to get rid of these muthafuckas and burn them in their trucks.” They did as the young boss asked them to do.
~ ~ ~
At 11:02 a.m., Agent Johnson called Jack Ross at his home to see if he had come across any information that would help figure out how Rakman had gotten out.
“Jack Ross here. What’s going on?” he asked, after seeing the number on the caller ID, so he knew who was calling.
“Sir, this is Johnson. I’m calling to see if you came across data on the escape. The media wants and needs answers.”
Jack flashed back to the previous night when he saw Agent O’Neil’s brains get blown out on the highway, followed by the call he received after that. What little he knew was sensitive information that needed to get out, but first he would need the names of those involved. How would he get them? He relayed all he was told by Agent O’Neil to Agent Johnson, so he would not be the only one who had this intel just in case something happened to him.
“Sir, I’ll get this info to the media immediately to see what they can dig up after they have been made aware of this,” Agent Johnson said.
“Agent Johnson, this may be the last time you’ll hear from me, if you know what I mean. So make sure you don’t waste any time getting this to the media,” Ross said, feeling as if the world he knew was coming to an end, just as Agent O’Neil had met his abrupt demise.
After the call, Jack started getting his things together. He was ready to leave the house and his wife behind. He figured that by making the call, someone may have been listening; and the longer he stayed there at the home, the more chance his wife would have of being physically harmed by the men wanting to conceal the information about Rakman, because it would expose a lot more than just who helped him escape. It would go deeper into those who sided with him and their reasons why. Another reason he wanted to leave before his wife got home from work was that he did not want to be killed in his home and have her walk in on his lifeless body. It would be emotionally and mentally scaring for her forever.
As soon as Jack came to the front door preparing to leave, he was greeted by the mailman. At that very moment, Jack’s body seized up in fear as his heart began pumping with even more fear, thinking that his time had come to an end.
“I have some mail for Mr. Ross,” the mailman said.
“I’ll take it,” Jack said, before quickly signing and handing back the clipboard and pen.
“Have a nice day, sir,” he said as he walked away.
As soon as the mailman turned his back and walked away, Jack tossed the package into the house and raced over to his car. He was ready to get as far away as he could from his home. He turned the key, only to hear the car sounds as if it was stalling. Another red flag made him think that something was about to happen.
“Get a hold of yourself, Jack. This ain’t the movies,” he said to himself while trying to start the car again.
He quickly drove off after checking his mirrors and looking around. He then noticed that the mailman did not carry a mailbag, so he looked back at him with a smirk on his face. The mailman was not stopping at any of the other houses. Jack slowed down and wanted to stop, but he did not. Instead, he locked eyes with and tried to remember the face of the mailman, who was looking back at Jack with a sadistic smirk on his face as if he knew something. Maybe he did.
Jack’s eyes shifted from the mailman’s face to his hands, in which he was holding a box. It was now clear what he had in his hand. It was a detonator that he pressed to set off an explosive attached to the bottom of Jack’s car. An abrupt yet violent explosion immediately sounded off, which was backed by fire that engulfed Jack and all of his secrets that he would now take to the other side with him.
CHAPTER 19
BACK IN HARRISBURG, Agent Johnson hung up the phone after making calls to the press, who wanted to get out information to the public. Once he had finished, he made his way to the parking garage that connected to the Federal building. He felt good about what he had accomplished thus far; although he was unaware that Jack Ross had just lost his life over information that would lead to the nation’s greatest scandal.
Agent Johnson made it to his car and slid the key into the door. Just as he turned it, he heard a voice from behind him which immediately drew his attention.
“Agent Johnson, sir. Jack Ross is dead. You have the chance to walk away from this alive if you choose to. The moment you stand in front of the media, we view it as a compromise to our nation’s security,” the militant-looking man in all-black fatigues said.
Agent Johnson knew the trained man would not kill him inside the garage with so many cameras present, so he felt somewhat safe for now.
“Are you kidding me with this national security thing? Someone is responsible for the breakout of known terrorist Rakman Hussein!” Agent Johnson snapped.
“Sir, lower your tone. We wouldn’t want to escalate matters before their time.”
“What? What does that mean? What branch of the service are you from? I want to speak to your superiors!” Agent Johnson asked with anger and frustration.
He wanted to know why Rakman was a national treasure all of a sudden, so to speak.
“The group I represent does not exist on paper, so we don’t have any titles. Sir, if you stand before the press, tomorrow will not come for you,” the man warned as he walked away and disappeared as if he had never existed.
Agent Johnson did not trust anyone now. The fact that they wanted him to be silent made him want to be even more vocal. At the same time, he wanted to make sure Jack or Agent O’Neil did not die in vain.
Agent Johnson made his way over to the Capitol but remained seated in his parked car where the media outlets were setting up to listen to what he had to say regarding Rakman Hussein. He sat in his car and thought of what he was going to do, since he was informed that if he did not remain silent, they would come after him and probably his family.
Meanwhile, over on the other side of the city, Shari and her mother were at her place talking about what they were going to do with the $2 million reward they were splitting for the capture of Tommy Guns. The kids were upstairs playing with new toys that she had bought at Toys “R” Us.
Their conversation was interrupted when the front door was kicked in.
“Oh my God! What’s going on!” Shari screamed.
“Jesus, help us!” Shari’s mom yelled when she saw two gunmen come through the door with twin silenced 9mm automatics.
The two men were sent by the Mexican cartel run by Hector Guzman, courtesy of Tony the Ghost, since he made them aware of his problem the day of Tommy’s arrest.
They did not hesitate. The first burst of rounds from the sicarios slammed into Shari’s face silencing her forever as her brains and chunks of her skull sprayed the dining room table before her body hit the ground, robbed of life, because she was no more.
The second assassin fired multiple times into her mom, who screamed until slugs filled her mouth and body. They dropped her where she stood as each bullet sucked the life from her flesh. Just like Tommy Guns had promised, she died a miserable death. Neither of them would have the chance to spend the money, or think about setting up anyone else, for that matter.
The kids upstair
s heard their mother’s and grandmother’s screams and came down the steps undetected, until they spoke after seeing their mother and grandmother lying lifeless in their blood-saturated clothing.
“My daddy, Tommy Guns, is going to get you for that,” little Tommy said as he stared down the men, not knowing they came to clean the house of the children as well.
The cartel sicario quickly turned and was ready to take out the kids, too, until his partner stopped him.
“Oye, que pasol? Jefe dijested mata lo todo cada uno,” the sicario said.
He wanted to complete the job he had come to do, but the American-born assassin he came with did not want to kill the kids because he personally knew Tommy Guns.
“I can’t let you kill the kids. I know their father. He’s a friend of mine,” Ra Ra said.
“You don’t have to let me do anything, cabron. I came here to do a job,” the sicario said as he pointed his weapon at the kids.
Ra Ra did not let him get a shot off. He fired multiple rounds from both guns, which killed the Mexican goon where he stood. He then shifted his attention to the kids.
“I’m going to call the police and they’re going to take you and your brother away from here, okay?” Ra Ra explained before making the call and leaving the kids alone to wait for the police to arrive.
The police would enter with caution upon seeing the front door had been kicked in. But the kids would be safe and taken to a good place away from this life of murder.
CHAPTER 20
AGENT JOHNSON EXITED his car at 11:45 a.m. and made his way to the top of the Capitol steps, which gave him an overview of the media and people awaiting his comments. All the cameras were tuned in and zoomed on to him as he approached the microphone, ready to deliver the information about Rakman Hussein as well as his encounter with the man in the garage.
Agent Johnson grew nervous when he thought about the threat made on his life as well as Jack Ross no longer being there because of his relaying the message to him. He cleared his throat as he adjusted the microphones in front of him.
“Eh-um, thank you all for coming out on such short notice. I promise to make it worth your while. As you all know, Rakman Hussein’s escape was done with precision. I’m here to make you aware of the men behind all of this. The people we trust!” Agent Johnson began, becoming more at ease with his words as they flowed from his mouth.
He wanted to put pressure on those responsible for this.
The reporters’ cameras zoomed in on his face while he was speaking. They wanted to capture the words and the emotions behind every word he said.
Then it happened, right before the rolling cameras. A pink mist sprayed the reporters closest to Agent Johnson as a slug from a faraway sniper crashed into his skull, blowing out his brains from the back with force. At the same time, the bullet made the rest of his head disappear as it exploded into small fragments of flesh and skull. His body fell limp and hit the ground, only to twitch a few times before coming to a halt as the shock of the slug sucked the life and soul out of the flesh. He was no more.
The reporters started to scream and duck down when they heard the crack of the gun. Some continued to roll their cameras, even zooming in on the dead body of Agent Johnson. Other reporters directed their cameras to zoom in on the buildings surrounding the Capitol where they believed the shot had come from. But it was to no avail, as the shot fired was from a distance further away than they could ever see coming or going. By the time they figured it out, he would be gone.
All of the reporters gave their views on what had just taken place with Agent Johnson, each of them adding their own conspiracy theory and twist to it. Social media outlets tagged the video, which made it go viral with hashtags with view after view.
~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, over at the Cumberland County Prison in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, Tommy Guns was being called up to the front of the prison for a lawyer visit.
He saw two attorneys when he entered the room, one he recognized and the other carrying a briefcase, who he did not. The other person in the room was Tony the Ghost. Tommy was actually surprised to see him, especially with all that was going on with the Feds. A man of power like Tony must be here for one thing—his money. With his connections and resources, he managed to get fake credentials as a lawyer.
Tony closed the door before getting down to business.
“I never figured our business would end like this. You know why I’m here, amigo,” Tony said.
“You came to find out where your product or money is. My crew can handle that for me,” he said.
He did not know that outside of Tre, he no longer had a crew, thanks to Tony.
“So where is my product or 1.5, hermano?”
“In a rental storage in Miami.”
Tony slid a piece of paper and a pen across the table to Tommy. Tommy then wrote down the address and storage number for him. The key would not be necessary. Tony knew people that would handle this for him.
“Tony, use your position and power to get me out of here!” Tommy Guns said.
“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, this lawyer is going to help you out with anything you need. He’s already paid for,” Tony said, standing up to shake Tommy’s hand. “Everything will be okay. This place doesn’t suit you at all,” he said before exiting the room.
The lawyer in the room opened up his briefcase to reveal papers he wanted Tommy to look over. The lawyer remained standing and then pulled out one of his pens from his suit pocket. He removed the cap on the pen and exposed a needle that it concealed.
Tommy was still focused on the papers he was given to read, unaware of the needle in the other man’s hand, until he felt a pinch in his neck. The fake lawyer held Tommy until he injected the fluid into his neck, which was a mixture of toxins that immediately paralyzed him so he could not resist. He was alert but not for long as his fast-beating heart slowed down. Each beat made it darker and darker, which put fear into Tommy as moments of an end came to him.
The lawyer laid his body on the floor before walking out undetected as if nothing had happened. A group of men waited for the fake lawyer to exit before they, too, vanished down the road together.
CHAPTER 21
A FEW DAYS later, the FBI was looking for the fake lawyer that came to see Tommy Guns. His lifeless body was discovered floating under the City Island Bridge along the Susquehanna River. A slug to the head was the cause of death. Tony the Ghost and his associates clearly were covering all their tracks. The conspiracy was apparent, with the fake lawyer visiting Tommy Guns who was then found floating in the river. This all made the Feds want answers to their list of never-ending questions.
On the other side of the city at Dauphin County Prison, Nino was being released as promised by Rakman for taking care of business for him. All charges against him had been dismissed due to an invalid search warrant. Rakman had his people secure that, along with other evidence that would taint the case and render it unable to prosecute.
One of Rakman’s associates came to pick up Nino and take him to the airport, making sure he left the city and never returned.
“You know you can never return to this city under any condition? This is all a part of the agreement you’ve made with Rakman,” the white businessman said with serious conviction.
“Fuck this city and the government! All this shit is corrupt anyway. They ain’t never gotta worry about me coming back to this city.”
Once they arrived at the airport, the man handed Nino a gym bag containing $1 million as promised. This would give him the chance to start all over and find his way. Nino took the bag of money and made his way through the airport after securing a ticket. Once he got on the plane, he had time to look inside the bag, which contained the money as well as a note that read:
Thank you for everything, my good friend. I kept my word; now you keep yours. Allah u Akbar! Stay low and change your lifestyle, and your freedom will be appreciated.
Nino smiled upon reading his wo
rds, thinking about how this shit was real and how this nigga Rakman kept his word. He blessed him with money and his freedom. Although he didn’t care if he ever saw him again, he appreciated what he already had done. Nino sipped his rum and Coke and enjoyed his freedom and newfound fortune as the plane took off toward a new start far away from the corrupt city of Harrisburg.
~ ~ ~
Back in Miami, Tony the Ghost was at his place enjoying his 70-inch flat-screen with surround sound. He was relaxing after the completion of the cleanup and taking care of business that would connect back to him or cause problems in the organization with which he was affiliated. He heard a thump from another room, so he muted the TV, thinking that one of his men had broken one of his very expensive pieces like he did the previous week, and he had to shoot him right where he stood, even though the piece was insured.
“You have to have a better security team than that!” a voice came from behind Tony the Ghost.
Tony’s body instantly froze up upon feeling that this was clearly the end. Someone was either trying to take his reign of power or his jefe sent his sicario to take him out and finish up the cleaning process.
“Do you know who I am and what I represent?” Tony snapped, upon seeing the lone individual sweep around the couch he was sitting on with military precision and aim his gun at his face. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
“That should be the least of your worries. ‘Why am I here?’ is the question you should have started off with!”
“Who are you?” he asked, wondering if he was a gang member.
“I’m a friend of someone you should not have fucked with!”
Upon hearing those words flow from his mouth, the twin Latinas that were out by the pool came through the door and fired off shots toward the assassin. He evaded the oncoming slugs and dropped low, only to fire on Tony the Ghost. He hit him in the stomach, which caused him intense pain as the hot slug burned his flesh.
All Eyes on Gunz 3 Page 8
