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  “What's that supposed to mean?” Shai questioned.

  Swan shot Angelo a warning look. “I don’t know nothing ‘cept what people say. Nothing personal against her. I’d tell you the same thing about any chick.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Shai said, not really believing him. In the hood, niggaz always had something negative to say. That's just how it went, but Angelo wasn’t a typical hood nigga. He was one of the few cats that Poppa had on payroll that could be called a gentleman. Something was up and Shai would get to the bottom of it sooner or later.

  Tommy sat in his father's office waiting for him to come in. He had told him that he needed to sit down about the situation with the Italians, but beyond that, he didn’t go into detail. He knew that this was a very delicate situation and it had to be handled with care. He went over the script in his head again and waited for his father's arrival.

  Poppa came into the office with a frustrated look on his face. Tommy tensed up. If his father was already in a bad mood, the news that Tommy was about to deliver would only make it worse. It was too late to turn back and the problem with Mike had to be addressed immediately.

  “What's up, old man?” Tommy asked lightly.

  “Rough day, son,” Poppa responded. “Had to go see Scotty about that thing for James and that damn Mike.”

  “Mike?” Tommy asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. He told me about the little falling out y’all had. When did you plan on telling me?”

  “Poppa, I was just trying to get a handle on it before I brought it to you.”

  “Well, while you were trying to get a handle on it, those damn dagos could’ve tried to kill me and I wouldn’t have even seen it coming.”

  “You’re right, Poppa. Now what?”

  “What’re you asking me for?” Poppa asked sarcastically. “You’re running the show now. I know why you did what you did, but you could’ve done it with more tact. Use your head.”

  “Sorry, Poppa.”

  “Don’t be sorry, be careful. Now, Mike is in a bad way. You’ve wounded his pride and crippled his pockets. I’m not sure what he's gonna do, but I know he's gonna do something. Be prepared for it when it comes.”

  Tommy nodded as his father continued to speak. He knew the old man was mad, but he took it far better than he had expected him to. With that out of the way, getting ready to go at it with Mike was the order of business. The fat man could make things very uncomfortable for their crew, but they would hold their ground. The first move had been made, so Tommy had no choice but to play the game.

  “The nerve of that little bitch,” Paula said, looking at some Enyce jeans that were on sale at Harlem. “She came up in there looking like a goddamn streetwalker and had the nerve to be trying to stunt. She lucky I didn’t blow her ass.”

  “She act like she was on something.” Honey chuckled, looking at herself in the full-length mirror.

  “She must’ve been, the way she was pressing ya man.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” Honey asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “Stop acting like you don’t know,” Paula said, thumbing through the sale rack. “I seen the way y’all was gazing into each other's eyes. Both of y’all looked like two lovesick puppies.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Honey asked, selecting a pair of Baby Phat jeans with a matching shirt.

  “Honey,” Paula said, putting her hands on her hips, “this is me. I know you, so don’t front. But I ain’t mad at you though. The whole game plan was to get with that nigga and take him to the bank, right?”

  Honey gave Paula a halfhearted nod. It was true enough when Honey originally got with Shai, it was all game. She would spend some time, maybe give him a little ass, then try and squeeze him. Somewhere along the line, the plan switched. The more she got to know Shai, the more she liked him. He could be a little arrogant at times, but she thought it was sexy. Besides that, his cock game was serious.

  It was true, Honey was very materialistic. She liked for men to paper her and buy her gifts. This is what made her feel special. Shai, on the other hand, had made her feel more like a woman than anybody she had been dealing with prior, and he had hardly spent a dime on her. This wasn’t part of the equation. Suddenly, she found herself at a fork in the road.

  Shai and the others stood out in front of Popeyes, chatting about nothing in particular. The joke of the day had long since died down, leaving Shai with another lingering question. What did Angelo mean by “be careful”?

  Before the issue could be pressed further, Tommy pulled up on the corner. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and Timbs. From the look on his face, Swan could tell that he was in a bad mood. The other soldiers didn’t know what was bothering him, but Swan and Shai did.

  “Swan, you about ready to go?” Tommy asked.

  “Where y’all off to?” Shai asked.

  “Got some business to handle,” Tommy said shortly.

  “Let me roll?”

  “Ain’t no place for kids, Shai. Swan will be back soon.”

  “Yo, fuck you, Tommy,” Shai spat. “You always trying to play me. I ain’t no kid.”

  “Shai, I’m trying to look out for your lil’ ass.”

  “Well, don’t do me no favors,” Shai said, walking off.

  “Dumb-ass kid,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “Let's go, Swan.”

  “Maybe we should’ve let him come?” Swan asked.

  “Now you’re on your bullshit?” Tommy snapped. “Shai ain’t built for this shit and that's the last time I’m gonna say it. Now, let's go.”

  Swan looked from Shai's retreating back to Tommy. He wanted to speak further on it, but Tommy was in a foul mood. The last thing he wanted to do was get into it with Tommy. Swan reluctantly followed his general.

  “Did you hear the latest?” Max Wong asked, entering Billy's private study. “The streets are buzzing, brother.”

  “Max, what are you talking about?” Billy asked, looking up from his copy of the Wall Street Journal.

  “Your boy, Tommy. Seems that Mike didn’t like the idea of him leaving. The shit between them is about to get real ugly.”

  “Just as I said it would.” Billy nodded. “With any luck, Tommy will have Mike in a box before the end of the year.”

  “He can’t do it from prison,” Max said seriously.

  “What?” Billy sat up.

  “I got word from cousin Hung at China Garden on Lenox Avenue. Says that Tommy had someone hit and the police have a witness fingering him as the one who ordered it.”

  “This is not good,” Billy said, dropping his paper.

  “Especially since you made a deal with him for all that heroin,” Max reminded his brother. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know if we can solve Tommy's problem,” Billy said, picking up the phone, “but we can lend aid.”

  CHAPTER 21

  ARNOLD GREEN STOOD IN front of his house looking down the street at the approaching school bus. His wife had promised to take the kids to their piano lesson, but she ended up having an errand to run. Arnold found himself forced to leave the office early to take his daughters to the lesson. It was an inconvenience for him to leave the office and come all the way home just to end up going back, but he would do anything for his girls.

  The school bus pulled up and unloaded its cargo. Children exited the bus and went their respective ways. The bus driver closed its door and made to pull off. To Arnold's surprise, his daughters didn’t exit the bus. Arnold found this very confusing, because he knew they had been picked up by the bus earlier that day.

  Trying not to panic, Arnold called his wife to see if she had them. Hearing that he didn’t, she panicked. After a futile attempt at calming her down, Arnold called the school. They informed him that someone had already picked up the children. Arnold immediately feared the worst.

  Just as he was about to put in a call to the police, a black hearse pulled up in front of his house. The windows were tinted so Green couldn’t see the dri
ver. The door slowly opened and a man stepped out. He was of average height with a shaved head. A leather patch covered one eye and the other one was trained right on Green. As he stepped a little clearer into view, Arnold noticed that he was wearing a priest's collar.

  “I take it you’re Arnold Green?” Priest asked.

  “Who are you?” Arnold asked.

  “A man of the cloth, what else?” Priest said, as if Green had asked a stupid question. “I am a messenger of God and a deliverer of gifts. I have come bearing a gift for you.”

  “Listen, buddy,” Arnold started. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t have time for this shit. I’m fucking …”

  Green's words froze in his throat, as Priest stepped away from the car, pulling a length of rosary behind him. The custom rosary stretched for about three feet and split at the end. The extensions were wrapped around the necks of Arnold Green's young daughters. Their hands were bound with duct tape, but Priest didn’t need to gag their mouths; fear kept them silent.

  “You bastard!” Arnold shouted. He made to lunge for Priest, but stopped short when he saw the silenced .22 that Priest had produced from his robe. He moved the gun back and forth between the two girls, taunting Arnold.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Priest said in an easy tone.

  “What do you want?” Arnold asked, defeated.

  “Only that you listen to reason, my son. The other day a man came to speak with you about doing a favor for my friend Tom. You were rude and dismissed him like he was beneath you.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Arnold asked, outraged. “You kidnapped my little girls because I booted that bum from tryouts?”

  “Hardly,” Priest said as he stroked the oldest girl's brown hair. Her eyes watered, but she dared not flinch. “This isn’t about that piece of shit Tucker. I could care less if you let him join in your little games. This is about respect. Poppa Clark is a man that demandsrespect. You disrespected him by dismissing his representative. I am here to request that you rethink your rash decision.”

  “Anything,” Green pleaded. “Just don’t hurt my girls.”

  “Mr. Green,” Priest said, tightening his grip on the leash. “What kind of man do you take me for? My Lord is merciful and so shall I be.” He freed the girls and pushed them toward their father. “Poppa doesn’t forget his friends. Nor does he forget his enemies.” Priest glanced at the girls. “The choice is yours,” Priest told him as he slid back into the hearse, “but I would reconsider if I were you. I trust we won’t need to see each other again after today.” He threw his head back and laughed as he pulled off.

  Arnold Green hugged his daughters and tried to hold himself together. When Scotty had come to meet with him, he had mistaken him for a low-class lawyer working for a typical black gangster. After seeing how far they were willing to go to prove a point, Arnold Green, GM for the New York Knicks, began to realize that Thomas Clark and his crew were anything but typical black gangsters.

  Fritz sat behind the wheel of the Taurus, chain-smoking. He had been following Bone since Angelo had called him, but still he came up with nothing. The kid's life was that of an average hustler. Come outside, set up shop, go to the weed spot, hit the block, and talk shit. Fritz was not enjoying his latest assignment.

  He had a good mind to give the whole thing up and report in, when something very interesting happened. Bone was sitting inside a Chinese restaurant with his partner Ahmad. They had been sitting there for a while, but nothing noteworthy had happened. At least until their surprise guest came.

  Fritz's jaw dropped when the guest got out of the cab. Even parked a few yards away, he knew the man's face. His blood boiled as the man went inside and greeted Bone with a smile and a hug. Fritz wanted to hop out and wet all three of the snakes, but those weren’t his instructions. He decided to play this one by the book and pulled out his cell phone.

  The meeting at Shakers had been a tense one. There weren’t that many people there, just the family's most trusted comrades. The issue with the Italians had been the order of business. Random incidents had been occurring all over the City. “This one got shot over here.” “So-and-so got bagged over there.” If Tommy hadn’t given specific orders to report any unusual activities, they might’ve gone unnoticed. In times of war, there were no such things as coincidences. The Italians had lifted their veil of support and the shit would be hitting the fan very soon. Things were unfolding a little faster than Tommy was prepared for, but he would never admit it.

  CHAPTER 22

  OVER THE NEXT WEEK or two, things were very tense on the streets. The heroin that the Wongs had supplied Tommy with was moving at an alarming rate. Tommy was making money, but he was still suffering losses. The conflict was building, but an all-out war hadn’t popped off yet.

  Just as Angelo had predicted, the other crews were starting to gain courage. Harlem was the heart of the Clark operations, so they didn’t press the assault there, but the other boroughs were being infiltrated left and right. The Dominicans, Jamaicans, and whoever else had a stake in the streets wanted a piece of the Clark pie. Tommy's crew was holding them at bay as best they could, but it would only be a matter of time.

  By now, everyone knew the Italians were no longer behind Tommy and were trying to capitalize on it. More soldiers were being lost than usual. If they weren’t being randomly killed, they were being arrested on bullshit charges. The police that were still on theClark payroll had doubled their fees, knowing Tommy had no choice but to pay.

  On a different note, Shai and Honey found themselves getting closer. The two could often be found in popular eateries or frequenting movies. Neither of them had expected to develop such strong feelings for each other, but it was happening. As unexpected as it might’ve been, they couldn’t be mad at the twist.

  Honey wasn’t the only thing occupying Shai's time. He found himself spending more time with Swan and the other soldiers. He wasn’t active in the conflict, but he would often act as counselor. Poppa and Tommy were oblivious to Shai's meddling, but Swan and the others were glad to have him. Shai had an edge, because he looked at things from a neutral standpoint. He would analyze certain situations and devise plans to counter them, plans that Swan and Angelo would gladly carry out.

  One such problem was the dwindling support for the Clark family. The underworld citizens of New York City were being forced to choose sides in the conflict. They would have to ride with either Tommy or Bone. Quite a few of them had chosen to side with Bone, because he now had the support of the Italians. They still respected Tommy but hesitated to side with him because he was slowly becoming the underdog.

  Shai saw this problem unfolding and quickly devised a plan to counter it. He began a recruitment campaign, spearheaded by Angelo and other loyal lieutenants. They began to go outside of the City proper to gain support. They sent word to the independent crews, who were loyal to neither side. They reached out to places like Newark, Mount Vernon, and Westchester County. The message was simple: “Support the Clarks and reap the benefits when the conflict was finished.” Shai promised each crew leader a spot within the organization in exchange for their support. Just as Shai had anticipated, the promise of wealth and power was enough to draw more soldiers into the fold. It wasn’t a massive turnout, but they managed to recruit over a dozen more soldiers and supporters. That meant adozen more guns to be bust. The wayward crews saw it as a way to come up, but Shai saw it as a means of replenishing their ranks as well as spreading the already massive Clark territory. Fair exchange.

  The moves that Shai was making gained him a great deal of respect as a tactician from the select few who knew of his involvement. It also helped to boost the morale of the ones who thought it was all Tommy's doing. Whichever the case, it restored hope to the Clark family. Tommy had no idea that Shai was secretly manipulating events through Swan, but Poppa wasn’t so easily duped.

  “Nigga, what?” Tommy asked, staring at Dave in disbelief.

  “I ain’t shit
ting you, T.” Dave shook his head. “These mutha fuckas been stomping ass all through the hood. Word is somebody dropped a dime about you ordering the hit on Heath.”

  Tommy was sitting in the back of Shakers, surrounded by a few of his soldiers, his cousin Gator, and Angelo. As soon as he hit the streets, he began to hear the rumors about the police looking to question him about a murder. Tommy knew he was too smart to get caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so someone had to be running their mouth.

  “How much do them pigs know?” Tommy asked.

  “Hard to say.” Dave shrugged. “You know how rumors get twisted around and shit. What I do know, is they don’t put the love on a few of our peoples. Including my man, Bump.”

  “That's fucked up,” Marshall said. “Bump is one of us, meaning he's untouchable. That was disrespectful. What we gonna do, Tommy?”

  “We gonna get to the root of this shit,” Tommy said angrily.

  “All kind of weird shit has been happening lately,” Dave mumbled.

  “Fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tommy asked curiously. “You know something that you’re not telling me?”

  “Well,” Dave spoke up, “we didn’t think much of it at the time, but niggaz been creeping through our hood. You know, we thought they might’ve been just trying to shake us, but—”

  “Get to the point, lil’ nigga,” Gator said, speaking for the first time.

  Dave considered arguing with the newcomer, but one look at his sharpened gold teeth killed that idea. He sucked his teeth and continued addressing Tommy:

  “Fucking Bone and his peoples.”

  “Dave, why the fuck are you just now telling me this shit?” Tommy demanded angrily.

  “Tommy, so much has been going on lately, we really didn’t sweat it.” Dave shrugged. “Mutha fuckas have been trying to invade our other spots, but we thought they wouldn’t have tried for Harlem. This is us, baby. We figured they were just stunting.”