Andre didn’t pay the captain a bit of attention. He was on a locomotive and going full steam ahead with his plan. None of the prison staff could stop what he had planned. he had rehearsed his lines for three months and was thoroughly prepared to do what he had set out to do, and that was too garner an acquittal. Anything less would not lead him down the road to success and he smelled success. He smelled fear, as well, emanating from the captain. And he wasn’t even wearing a mask. He was in the spotlight making things happen. Because of that, “I will be quiet, Mr. Captain,” Andre said and smiled. “I cannot assure you that things will stay that way, but I promise that for today things will be okay for you and you can get all of the paperwork associated with this done. That is if I get a small request.”
The captain looked Andre deep into his eyes and grinned. A sinister grin. Oh, really, you piece of shit. There’s just no way that I am giving you another thing. You surely have me and the BOP fucked up, as we don’t have to give in to you or any of your demands. And I can care less about anything that happens outside of this jail. While he thought all of that, he settled for, “I am not at liberty to offer you anything and that you know, that is, if your question relates to the outside world.”
“Ok, now that we established that. Let’s be frank. You run the Federal Detention of Philadelphia? Is that a fair assessment taken from your last statement?”
“In a way.”
“Ok, cool. I’d like a shower.”
“That’s a question for psychology. They run the shower schedule for inmates on suicide watch.”
“Um,” Andre said and then in the blink of an eye, he spit on the glass separating him and the captain. “God help us all.” He turned and sat down on the bed. “Any chance that I can get a sheet? You know I am not crazy or suicidal.”
“I don’t. My officers reported you threatened to off yourself.”
“And which officer is that?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“No it’s not.”
“Why not?”
“I have a special treat for them,” Andre said and smiled. “Leave me alone for now, Cap. I am tired and I need to think.”
“Let’s think positive. All this will be over very soon.”
“Is that right?” Another smile before Andre sat on the plastic mattress and covered his face in his hands.
CHAPTER 30
Set against the backdrop of Central Park and in connection with The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Petrie Court Cafe and Wine Bar was a European-style restaurant that served an à la carte lunch and Sunday brunch. It also transformed into a sophisticated, intimate wine bar on Friday and Saturday evenings. On that Monday, though, Kareem and Marquis met in a quiet corner, but their conversation was quite loud. The cafe was one block over from Kareem’s villa and perfect for Marquis to tell him all about Toi’s plight and come up with the perfect plan to get over and/or around what was happening.
That day, even in New York City and after 9/11, Marquis was dressed as an Arab-American. He had a natural bronze complexion and a long beard with a complimentary mustache. The beard was fake, no doubt, but it was the Muslim’s holy month of Ramadan, and that served as the perfect cover for him to meet his pal. There was no doubt that federal agents watched Kareem’s every move as they were desperate to bring the people to court who helped Kareem, but they had no clue where to even begin. Neither Kareem, nor Andre had any desire to tell them. For what? And open up a whole different list of crimes. That was the most absurd thing to Kareem and all involved. Confessing to a crime was like handcuffing oneself and waltzing into a police station and handing the police a video tape of one committing a crime.
“Where is she now?” Kareem asked after Marquis had given him the preliminary information.
“At the JFK, stressed beyond comprehension, and I am fearful that she may be reaching the same levels that forced her to have the first miscarriage. This is bad, Reem. Why are they pressing her to do this?”
“Man, why is she at the airport?” Calm outside. Ready to kill on the outside.
“We have a plan, and just need you to go along. You can’t control everything.” Marquis raked his hands through his faux beard and reviewed the menu. “We’re not really ordering are we? I have no appetite.”
“Don’t dismiss me, man. Where is my girl, Marquis?” Kareem leaned into the table.
“I’m not telling you. Trust me, and that’s all I will say. I am not working for any fucking agents and I did not kidnap her.”
“Man, I know she ain’t kidnapped. She left blood at my door which is not her blood type. She’s not that damn clever, and I don’t need her roaming. Where is she headed?”
“Not telling. Move on. Are we eating here or not?”
“No, not eating here, but they want me, and bad man. So you know why they would target her. If you burn me, I will kill you myself, Marquis. Toi doesn’t even know much. She does know about how Shimir was offed, but she was his target. He was pursuing her to get me and broke into my brother’s home. These mutha fuckas are crazy. She can’t talk about any drugs or fraud, and it’s lunacy for them to think that I brought my street shit home. My dad long ago taught me and Dre about leaving what we do in the street right there. And he told us to never tell that shit over pillow talk. That’s why my mom is not in jail with my dad.”
“This is crazy,” Marquis told Kareem. To the waiter, he said, “Just get us two vintage glasses of Brunello di Montalcino.” When the waiter walked away, Marquis said, “Don’t ever threaten me, man. I was there from day one!”
“I’m not man. Just stressed. You ordered the most expensive red wine on the menu. You must be catching the tab,” Kareem said jokingly.
“Hell, no. You’re covering this as you have the dilemma. Remember the last time we were here, you brought me and Dre here to tell us that we had to cut off all of our chicks and anyone else because we had no idea who may have been a McKenzey flunky. Dre had walked out ‘cause he was not trying to give up his bitch that worked at the courthouse. You chased behind him and I paid that bill, so this is all yours.”
“You have a bad memory. I put the money you paid into your pocket,” Kareem said and chuckled.
“Man, we have been thorough a lot from day one of this. I remember the first time we cut class and ran to the bank to open our first accounts with those checks you stole from your job.”
“Shaking my fucking head. I was fifteen and a bona fide thief. Now look at me.”
“What? You have a fashion empire with over 200 employees worldwide. Barack should thank you.”
“You’re crazy as shit, man. What are we going to do about Toi. She loves me and I know that she has been being a bitch all the time because she fears jail and what them assholes will do to me. I hate this.”
“Well, bro, you know that we have a solution. This I gotta hear.”
“There is nothing to hear. Just all action. All I will say is that Toi is,” he checked his watch, “on a flight out of here. And guess what. We’re meeting her on a red-eye, so I need you ready to go at 9 for a 10:30 flight.”
“Man, you know damn well if I try to get out of here. It’s going down. I bet there’s an agent over there,” Kareem said and nodded at an odd looking man looking out from the museum at Central Park.
“Actually man, you know damn well, I am a master of disguises amongst other things, and you’re leaving this city tonight at 10:30!”
CHAPTER 31
FCI Allenwood-Low was divided into four units and the SHU. The units were named after the surrounding areas and James “Dope” Bezel was housed on Brady Unit. He had returned from his job cleaning the rec yard and stopped in the CO office to see if he had any mail. He did. There was a note left in the mail box for his cubical that indicated that he had legal mail. He headed through the TV room and passed 30 or so inmates crowded around the TV watching 106 and Park. They had nothing else to do with their lives and Dope hated that.
They were all relaxed and seemed
to be very comfortable with where they were. He hated it and didn’t ever act different. He was a feared inmate because many knew that he was known for wrecking any one’s day that created a problem in his world. That related to staff and inmates. He had calmed down and made his way down from the penitentiary to a medium prison and now a low, but he was that same ol’ ferocious man that was first admitted into the BOP. He had not changed much from the day that he was locked up and housed at the Philadelphia Federal Detention Center. He had since been in all sorts of federal jails. Until he had had enough of being locked in the SHU and being shipped from jail to jail, he did what he wanted. He still did just smarter.
After he passed through the TV room, which had 12 TV’s to accommodate the idiots, he was on the A-Side of the block. He bypassed a bank of telephones, a game room and a smaller news TV room. He walked up a short hallway to his counselor’s office and asked for his legal mail.
“Sure, Bezel,” the counselor said. “I don’t have it. It was accidentally delivered to the lieutenant’s office. Here’s a pass to run up there and get it before count.” The man handed him a paper pass after he wrote the date and time on it.
“Oh. Okay,” Dope said. He was confused. How was there a notice for him to pick up legal mail, if the mail was not on the block?
I ain’t ever been a dummy, Dope thought as he left the counselor’s office. He walked to the community bathroom and dipped into one of the stalls. He reached into his boxers to the briefs underneath and pulled the sandwich bag of weed that he carried there out. He palmed it and knew that someone was going to tell on him. He did not smoke, so he would pass a urine test if they tricked him to the lieutenants office for a piss test.
“Hey, youngin’ lemme holla at you,” he said to a young buck from DC as he passed his cube.
“What’s good, OG?”
“Lemme see you bout something. I need you to take care of something for me.”
Dope led him to the last shower stall in the shower room. That was where everyone smoked when the guards were occupied.
“Yo, OG, I don’t smoke.”
“I know, that’s why I need you to hold this package for me until I come from the LT office. They just tried to get me up there on some other shit.”
“Ok, I can do that,” the kid said apprehensively. He tucked the weed in his left sock and said, “Is that it?”
“Yeah, man. I got you when I come back.”
“When is that going to be?”
“I don’t know. Just guard that and I got you,” Dope said and left the shower room.
When he passed the large TV room he bumped into one of his cube mates.
“Yo, man, you got legal mail,” his cellie said.
“Come here, Yo,” Dope said and pulled him in the corner. “Yo, they say my legal mail is at the LT office. I am about to head up there. Make sure they pack all my shit if I don’t come back. You got that?”
“Yeah, I’m not going to let ya shit get stolen. What’s up, though?”
“Man, I don’t know, but there’s no way I have legal mail up there in that office.”
CHAPTER 32
At around 8:45, a black Cadillac Escalade pulled up in front of Terminal 7 at the John F. Kennedy Airport, and Toi was let out.
She was dressed like a New York freak. Hair dyed black, ghostly black make-up with white face paint, and a pleated skirt. She even had on a button up dress shirt that was not tucked in and several sizes too small and her stomach was showing. She grabbed one travel bag that was stuffed with all that she needed and walked to the curb-side check in.
“Ma’am you booked your flight today, so you have to check in inside and go through security. I’m sorry,” a curb-side check in rep said to her and kept working on tying a tag on another customer’s bag.
She picked up her bag and kept walking into the airport. The line to check in was intimidating, but she got in it bravely. She glanced at her watch and noticed that she had a forty-minute wait until her flight took off. She hadn’t noticed that Kareem and Marquis were in line ahead of her. Hell, Kareem had no idea that she was behind him. That was Marquis’s job show and he was taking that show on the road.
CHAPTER 33
On Tuesday morning at 5:37 a.m., 7S Officer Franklin tapped on Andre’s cell. He yelled, “Bezel, court. Get up and get yourself together.”
Andre was pissed off. There’s no need for the loud banging, designed to aggravate. From the bed, he asked, “What time is it?”
“Court time.”
“You think it’s a game,” Andre mumbled and smiled with his face under his forearm. He hopped up from the bare mat and walked to the cell window. He was asshole naked. They did not give him sheets or a blanket as he may have tried to hang himself with either. So he had covered up with his suicide smock and didn’t care about being in the nude. He was born that way. “What fucking time is it?”
“Who are you talking to like that, Bezel?”
“You! I tried to ask you a civilized question and you gave me a CO’s answer. Now at 5 a.m. I am going to be an asshole.” Andre kicked the cell door three times very hard. “I am going to awake this entire unit,” he said normally. He then yelled, “Everyone, wake the fuck up!”
“You’re a real piece of work. Why are you doing this?”
Andre’s barefoot size 10 slammed into the door again. Four times. He became tired of trying to hold his balance, so he lay down on the concrete floor and then kicked the door with both of his feet. He continued to yell at the top of his lungs. He sang Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes hit starring Teddy Pendagrass, Wake Up Everybody.
Twenty minutes later, Andre was still on the ground acting a fool. He was blurting out obscenities and making other foolish comments. There was nothing the CO could do to settle him. He was on the road to aggravating the officer and the inmates of the unit as well. The unit officer had to unlock the doors of the inmates so that they could have morning breakfast, and the entire unit was out of their cells that morning. Thanks to Mr. Andre Jamel Bezel. Normally, breakfast had about 30 of the 64 inmates there, but not this day. The unit was popping with excitement and Andre Bezel the big drug dealer was the main attraction.
Christopher Weeks came to the doorway that led to the back psyche area and looked at the guard in front of Andre’s door. They both shook their heads and then Chris yelled over to Andre.
“Hey, yo, man. That kicking is drawing. Stop that dumb ass shit. Niggas is tryinna sleep.”
Andre’s feet crashed harder against the door. He was glad that he had provoked other inmates to say something to him. That was what he wanted to get revved up even more. For a second he stopped kicking the door and sprang up from the floor.
“Why you in my business, fam?” Andre asked Christopher.
“Come on, man. We’re tryinna sleep and shit and you’re kicking the door like a little girl. Where they do that at?”
“You’re worrying about the wrong thing, fam. I am doing me, and I suggest that you do you.”
“Right. A cell gangsta. I’mma see you.”
“Lame ass clown, you see me now.”
“But you’re locked up. I’ll be out and when I am I will see ya nut ass. Stay in ya place.”
“Dawg, you’re on my block with the bullshit. They need to take ya ass back to the eighth floor.”
“You see this hot ass rat shit you’re on, my dude. You got the game fucked up. This ain’t ya fucking block, dude. What the hell are you talking about? Delusional ass clown. And how you gone suggest that they take me back to the eighth floor? What kind of brown nosing shit is that? House boy. Get ya ass from back here, cuz!”
“Awe man, get the fuck outta here with that bull shit. I am telling and that ain’t no secret. Sending ‘bout five fools to their LIFE sentences. If I was ya cellie, I would get info from you and hop on your case too.”
“Alright, Bezel. It’s showtime,” Officer Franklin said. “I gotta get you down to court. Are we suiting up in riot gear to get you the
re, or are you going to cuff up?” Officer Franklin asked and smiled. He wore a sardonic smile on his face, because he wanted to suit up and drag Andre to the second floor receiving and discharge area kicking and screaming. The R & D area was where the US Mashals were to pick him up and deliver him to court along with the other detainees.
“Do you really get a kick out of suiting up?”
“Fucking right! I am hoping that you’re next.”
“Good, cause I’mma steal the shit outta you first as soon as the cell door opens. So you be front and center, chump.”
CHAPTER 34
Despite the Roxanne protest, Antoine was at the Philadelphia International Airport regional rail line station stop. He exited the train,, watched planes whirl above him, and feared leaving very shortly. That would have been his first time on a flight and he was petrified, but he was going with the plan. For some strange reason, he wanted to prove that he was worthy and he wanted to make the money that he stood to make, although he had no idea how much money was at stake.
Like an idiot, he made his way off the train platform and then up an escalator. He had a carryon bag with a few things and made his way to the bridge that connected to the departures area of the airport. He went down a flight of stairs and proceeded to a kiosk to print his boarding pass. He did and looked at the boarding pass. Antoine could not believe that he was about to use an alias and a fake ID to board a flight. Was he insane? He had not known much about airport security, and only vaguely recalled stories about air marshals being aboard flights and roaming the airport freely and undercover, but he was going ahead with his plan. What else could happen to him? He would much rather have to deal with the law as opposed to Kareem Bezel. He had no idea what that man was capable of. He surmised that news accounts gave some of the details, but not many of them. For instance, the news had no idea what was happening to Antoine at the hands of Kareem.
Die Later Page 9
