GANGLAND Page 14

  “Damn you just got here and your ass is about to go back into the streets?” Martina rolled her neck. “And what’s all them bags for?”

  “Don’t worry baby,” he said kissing her forehead, “I gotta drop some shit off to Gutter, and make a run. I’ll be back tomorrow though. But come here for a sec. I got a surprise for you,” he sang.

  At the mention of a surprise, her whole attitude changed and her anger was replaced by greed. On the walk to the bedroom, the only thing that was on her mind was if it was money or jewelry? He didn’t come in carrying any bags, so it had to be either or. Martina’s eyes bulged in disbelief at the sight of her shredded clothes, and her minks scattered on the bed. “What the fu...” was as far as she got.

  Out of nowhere Lou-Loc splashed lavender paint all over Martina’s belongings. She stood in the center of all the carnage sack jawed. Lou-Loc had laid waste to at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars worth of goods. Before she even realized what was going on, he had grabbed her by her jaws and lifted her off her feet.

  He looked into her tear filled eyes and spoke in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. “Bitch, I go all out for you and your crumb crushers, and you try to put shit on me?”

  “What are you talking about, baby?” She stuttered.

  With his free hand he removed a ruby ring from his pocket and held it up for her to see. “Does this look familiar?”

  “Where did you get that?”

  “From the hand of a dead man,” He said with a twisted grin. “All this time, and you been creeping with a brim? I should twist yo ma fucking brain.” He tossed her onto the bed and put his gun to her heart. “All I wanna know is why?”

  “Wait, Lou-Loc, let me explain. He didn’t mean anything to me. You were always gone, and I needed someone,” she pleaded.

  “Gone? Bitch I’m on there on the grind every day throwing stones at the penitentiary so you can live good and that’s the excuse you give me?” Lou-Loc drew his gun and pressed it to her chest. “Whore I should bust your heart wide open the same way you did mine!”

  “Lou-Loc please don’t kill me,” Martina begged.

  “Nah, I ain’t gonna kill you,” he tucked his gun. “For as much as I wanna pop your stupid ass, you ain’t even worth the bullet. Just answer me one question; is that baby you’re carrying mine?”

  Martina was silent.

  “That’s just what I thought,” he said in a defeated tone. “I’m gone, Martina. Make due with ya bills the best way you can,” he started for the door.

  “Baby, wait,” she ran behind him and grabbed his arm. “I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry, but don’t leave me. Let’s try again; I know we can make it work. I couldn’t live without you. I love you, daddy!”

  “Un-ass me, bitch,” Lou-Loc swatted her hand away. “You can’t even spell love let alone know what it feels like.”

  “I’m sorry Lou-Loc,” she broke down in tears.

  “Yeah, the sorriest bitch I ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he said coldly. “My advice to you is to steer clear of me, because if I ever see you again I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” he stormed out of the apartment and Martina’s life.

  Lou-Loc made hurried steps down the building stairs and to the car. He wanted to get as far away from Martina as he could before he either went back on his word or killed her. Either way it wouldn’t have been good. As he was throwing his stuff in the trunk of his car he heard her screaming at him out the window.

  “You ain’t shit, Lou-Loc. You just gonna leave me and ya baby? You fucked up my furs and my clothes, but that ain’t enough? Youz a crab ass nigga, but that’s a’ight. You gonna regret this shit. Believe me, you gonna regret this,” she threatened.

  A warning bell rang off in Lou-Loc’s head, but he shrugged it off. He figured she was just hurt talking out of her ass. He left her broke and bummy. What the fuck could she do to him? Lou-Loc hopped in his car, and hit the highway to Brooklyn.

  *

  Upstairs, Martina’s wheels were already turning. She cursed herself for letting Lou-Loc get away. She had already dismissed the idea of calling Mac because nine times out of ten he was already dead if Lou-Loc knew about him. Her meal ticket had run out on her and she was hotter than fish grease. She needed a way to fix Lou-Loc’s ass and it would only be a matter of time before she figured out how. Then it hit her. She dug through the pile of clothes and paint until she found the phone. Within seconds, she had reached the party she was seeking. “Let me speak to Cisco.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Lou-Loc parked a few blocks from a bar where his victim was said to be a regular. From the back seat, he retrieved his duffel bag and checked the contents. Inside the bag were an old colt revolver and a small metal box. He opened the box, and was greeted by cold air from the cooling system. Inside the box were six bullets that Wiz had made especially for him. The tips were made of a special plastic to contain the corrosive acid that filled the bullets. They were designed to design to burst on impact and eat away at flesh from the inside out. This had been Lou-Loc’s idea to make it harder for forensic teams to trace them back to the assassin.

  Lou-Loc placed the gun under his seat and got out of his ride. He walked the few blocks to the bar and stepped inside. There were wall to wall people in the place, so Lou-Loc had to look around for a while before he spotted him. He sat at the bar hunched over a drink, surrounded by a few of his peoples. Even in the dim light his bald head shined like a beacon. His white tank top stood out against his dark skin like two ends of the color spectrum. To Lou-Loc, the man they called Born didn’t look like he was worth the over priced fee he had agreed on with the Al Mukalla prince, but if Anwar was willing to pay, he would gladly take the money.

  When he turned at an angle, Lou-Loc could see his iced out medallion swinging form his platinum chain. Lou-Loc figured he might as well take that too, after all, he wouldn’t need it where he was going. But then again, wouldn’t he need all the ice he could carry in hell? Lou-Loc chuckled to himself at the little joke, and walked happily out of the bar.

  After retrieving his Glock, as well as the supped up colt, Lou-Loc stood in a darkened doorway of a closed auto body shop and waited. It would probably be quite a while before his mark came out of the bar, but patience had always been one of his strong points. If need be, he would’ve waited until day break for the perfect opportunity to move on his kill which is what made him such an efficient killer.

  *

  Mean while, on 114th street a group of young men were sitting on a stoop drinking, and passing blunts. All of the young were dressed in predominantly red, letting everyone know they were members of the Blood gang. They went about their business as that was their turf and they had nothing to fear, but if any of them had been able to see into the future they might’ve stayed home that night.

  The most animate of the group was a tall light skinned cat named Scooby. Scooby considered himself a hard ass, who had a sharp tongue and an even sharper blade. He wasn’t the nicest with his hands but had been known to carve his opponents up like Christmas turkeys in battle. Scooby ran his crew with an iron fist, and when he spoke, they listened.

  “Fuck them crabs.” Scooby said taking a long swig of his 40oz. “Let one of them mutha fuckas come through here and it’s a wrap. I don’t play that shit, dog. I’m the hardest mutha fucking Damu out here.”

  “What about them folks uptown, Gutter and them niggaz?” A dark skinned youth asked.

  “Fuck them niggaz.” Scooby spat. “You see, I know how Gutter gets down. He’s crazy, and that’s just that. I know what to expect from him, so I ain’t worried. It’s his partner that gives me the creeps.”

  “You mean that nigga, Lou-Loc?” Another youth named Bear added. “Fuck that nigga, he pussy. I seen him on 125th one day while I was wit my bitch. I threw my set up, and he ain’t even do shit. Lou-Loc is soft.”

  “That’s ya problem, you take everything for face value,” Scooby scolded him. “My cousin that
lives out in Torrance, he gave me the 411 on that nut. That kid is the real fucking deal.”

  “Yea,” a young boy named B.G. added on, “I heard he killed like a hundred niggaz on the west coast. Shit, they say he went at it with a S.W.A.T team and won!”

  “Those are just stories.” Scooby said. “Besides, LC hit Gutter the other day. The way it’s looking his ass is worm food. As it stands, Lou-Loc is the only thing between me and control of Harlem. The nigga might be bout it, but he ain’t super man. He bleeds like us.”

  “You better be careful.” Tick said. “You plan on going at Lou-Loc, you better be ready to get down for real.”

  “Whatever,” Scooby said handing Tick his beer. “Hold my shit, nigga, while I go take a leak.” Scooby stumbled around the corner to try and find a dark spot to pee. Little did he know, the shadow of death was right on his heels.

  Scooby whipped out his joint and began to relieve his bladder. He thought about the line of bullshit he had fed his peoples. He wished he really was as confident as he had sounded. In all reality, he knew what time it was with Lou-Loc. Scooby wasn’t a coward, but Lou-Loc was somebody who he really didn’t want a problem with. Scooby’s mind was so jacked up off beer and weed that he didn’t even see the figure slithering from under a car behind him.

  It crept up on Scooby holding a cord that was as thin as dental floss but made of steel. Before Scooby even noticed that he wasn’t along the figure looped the cord around his neck. Scooby grabbed for it. As he did so, fire shot through his hand as his middle and index finger tips were severed. The shards of diamond dust woven into the cord severed both flesh and tendon. The more Scooby struggled, the more excited the figure became. The more excited it became, the tighter the noose got. Scooby tried to scream for help, but all that came out were muffled groans as his life’s blood spilled out onto the Harlem street. The cord bit deeper into Scooby’s neck until it met bone. Even then, the figure applied more pressure, but the bone wouldn’t give. In a matter of seconds, Scooby’s head was almost severed, and he was dead on his feet.

  After being gone for a while, the others began to worry about Scooby and decided to check on him. All their combined years of street education couldn’t prepare them for what they saw when they rounded the corner. Lying on the pavement in a pool of blood was their leader, Scooby. His head hung at a funny angle, and his face still held the mold of a man attempting to scream. The worst part was, Scooby’s dick was still hanging out of his pants.

  *

  Lou-Loc sat across from the bar smoking cigarette after cigarette. The sun would soon be forcing its way up, bumping away the darkness, and exposing Lou-Loc. He considered just making the hit inside, but then pushed the thought from his mind. He didn’t know the layout of the bar well enough to try that. The last thing he wanted was to trap himself.

  Lou-Loc stepped from the doorway to stretch his legs and spotted his mark come staggering out of the bar. He was flanked by two rugged looking characters on either side. Lou-Loc had counted on them being unarmed because they were coming out of a bar, but all hopes of that quickly vanished when one of the body guards produced a pistol from out of a near by dumpster.

  Lou-Loc stuck to the shadows, and crept to the trio’s left. Keeping his eyes locked on his victim he removed the bullets from their special case and loaded them into the Colt. With the Colt at the ready he moved towards his victim. It was still dark and they were dead drunk so they still hadn’t noticed Lou-Loc. He was close enough to hit his mark, but he only had six bullets in the colt, and he only had he Glock for back up so he needed to get up close and personal to make sure that every bullet hit home, but the open space would expose him and potentially ruin the element of surprise.

  As luck would have it a group of white kids came stumbling out of the bar a few seconds after his mark and provided Lou-Loc with the perfect cover. Lou-Loc blended in with crowd, faking drunk and moving ever closer to his mark. Just as Lou-Loc got close enough to spit on the mark, he turned around and stared him dead in the eye. This is usually the part where the killer says something slick or boasts to the mark on how he’s going to die, but Lou-Loc wasn’t much for theatrics. Lou-Loc raised the Colt and squeezed of two shots. The first shot hit Born in the forehead and the second embedded itself in his eye. The body guards stood there in shock as the acid did its work. Born lay on the ground with blood coming out of his eyes and ears, twitching and convulsing while his blood soaked companions look on in horror. Lou-Loc used their hesitation to his advantage.

  Firing the Glock through his jacket pocket, he took down the bodyguard closest to him. The second bodyguard tried to react but Lou-Loc was already spinning on him with the Colt drawn. The bodyguard opened his mouth to shot a threat but Lou-Loc never heard it over the roar of the Colt. The custom bullet hit him in the back of the throat and exploded, melting through his tongue and burning destroying his vocal cords as the liquid trickled down.

  After dispatching the bodyguards Lou-Loc moved to Born, who was convulsing violently. The acid bullets were making minced meat of his face but he was still alive. Lou-Loc tucked the colt and hit him twice in the heart with the Glock. Though he had been sent to kill Born, he had never done anything to him so it seemed wrong to make him suffer. It was only business.

  The drunken kids had sobered up when they heard the gun shots, and the females began to scream. Lou-Loc turned his Glock on them and purposely fired two shots over their heads. Some scattered some hit the floor. Didn’t really matter to Lou-Loc, he just needed them distracted long enough for him to make his getaway. As he hauled ass down the block he fired four more rounds over his shoulder so any would-be witnesses would keep their noses to the ground and out of his business.

  *

  Lou-Loc took his time driving back to Manhattan, making sure to stay under the speed limit. There was no sense in escaping the murder scene only to get pulled over for speeding and blow everything. Before returning to the hotel he’d checked into earlier that night, he pulled over on the side of the FDR and tossed the pistols he’d used into the river. He didn’t care about the colt because it was only to be used once anyway, but it hurt him to part with the Glock. It had been with one of his favorite guns and he’d had it since he came to New York from L.A, but no matter how attached his way to the weapon it wasn’t worth going to prison for.

  When he reached his hotel room, he slipped back in the way he left. The hotel only had cameras in the lobby, so he didn’t have to worry about his comings and goings being recorded. Once inside his room, he stripped naked and stuffed his clothes into a duffel bag which he would get rid of later. Next he got in the shower to wash off the blood and whatever powder residue that might’ve been clinging to him. He knew enough about forensic science to leave no stone unturned. After drying himself he lay naked across the bed and reflected on the turn his life had taken.

  The contract for the Al Mukalla had been handled which only left whoever had tried to kill Gutter to be dealt with. Pushing thoughts of murder and revenge he thought of Satin. Now that he was officially done with Martina he could move forward with Satin and couldn’t wait to call and tell her he good news, but it would keep until the morning. At that moment all he wanted to do was get a good night’s sleep. Lou-Loc stretched out and fingered the small pistol under his pillow. Knowing that he was safe for the moment, he let sleep claim him.

  CHAPTER 18

  In the weeks that followed Lou-Loc’s proclamation in the park the streets were thrown into chaos. There had been sixteen reported shootings and murders and those were only the ones the police knew about. The homies were putting in overtime dropping bodies left and right. The Bloods fought back, and for a while held their own until they found themselves fighting not only New York City Crips but Crips from the surrounding areas as well. When the war kicked off Lou-Loc starting calling in favors and there were more than a few people who owed the Crip General. Everything was working out just how Lou-Loc had planned it.

  During the war Lou-Lo
c had even filled six more contracts for the Al Mukalla and some of their associates. He hadn’t planned on coming out of retirement, but the overpriced hits Anwar and his people were paying for would help him stack the chips he needed to get out once and for all when it was all said and done, at least this is what he kept telling himself. The truth of the matter was that Lou-Loc missed the thrill of the hunt. For him committing murder was sweeter than any drug he’d ever taken and he was on course to overdose.

  On a different note, Satin, and Lou-Loc were getting closer. When he wasn’t out killing he was spending time with her. They went on regular dates like to the movies and bowling but Satin also exposed Lou-Loc to things he had only heard about or seen on television like fancy restaurants, where the menus were all printed in foreign languages and the theater. The first time she took him to the opera he was reluctant but actually found himself enjoying it. Going to these places was different for him going to these places, but it was nice.

  Lou-Loc and Satin were like kids falling in love for the first time. In truth, they were. Neither had ever had someone they could totally give themselves to until they met each other. To fall in love was a beautiful thing, and they were diving in head first.