The Corner II Read online

  “Aw’ight,” Smiley told his partner.

  Tavarious loved his brother and would do anything for him. But he knew his sibling was best at pulling women. If he’d wanted to come up on some females he’d involve his brother. If he wanted to do dirt he kept his brother out of the equation because his brother wasn’t built for that type of action and tonight Smiley would prove his brother to be right.

  Anthony walked away from the porch with his cell in one hand and his forty clutched in the other. He could still hear the music but he was now able to hear Baby G.

  “Whas’up fool?” the young gangster asked.

  “I got a little something poppin’ off you might be interested in. It pays a grip. You down?” “How I’m gonna be down with some shit that I don’t know about?”

  “Yo, G, have I ever steered you wrong?”

  “Nah, nigga.”

  “Then you just gotta trust me. Somebody big put me up on a lick. Shit goes right you might be getting up to three keys.”

  With that, the young live wire was in. Anthony told him that he’d hit him up when he was ready to roll. He knew he didn’t have to school Baby G on what to wear, how to be strapped or to keep his mouth shut. Anthony closed his cell and walked back to the porch. Smiley was sitting on a lawn chair talking on his cell to his man about getting the Techs. Once finished Ant poured their forties out and put out the weed. Smiley looked at him like he was crazy so Ant told him that they needed to be on full alert tonight and would have plenty enough time afterwards to celebrate their riches.

  The sun was just beginning to set but the humidity that blanketed the city was lingering. Ant parked the old Chevy in front of a house on the west side of town. Smiley turned down the radio and looked over to the driver’s side. He told his boy that he’d be out in less than fifteen. An eternity, Ant thought as he kept his eyes on some of the young hustlers on the street corner getting off their rocks. They were familiar with the area but it wasn’t their hood. Winchester, a twenty something street hood that sold guns and a little crack to make his ends, told Smiley that he was on parole so he couldn’t travel to bring the heat. Usually he would have with an extra fee attached but Smiley was getting the guns on the front. He wasn’t showing no such love so it was a trip they had to make and make quickly. Tavarious had already called Ant and given him the low down. Ant called Baby G with the info and he was to meet him and Smiley at their house. Baby G was responsible for supplying the transportation, which he was in the process of getting. The young gangster’s M.O. was that he would head to the suburbs where the retirees lived and steal a car off one of the old white folks who were asleep and wouldn’t notice that their car was missing until the morning when they woke up. By that time the car would have already been used in a crime and burned.

  Smiley was about to get out of the car when Ant grabbed him by the arm.

  “Hurry up and get out. I don’t like it up here with these shady ass niggas.”

  “I feel ya,” Smiley said looking in the direction of the hustler up the block.

  Smiley knocked on the screen door three times. When he didn’t get an answer he opened the screen door and banged on the oil base painted wooden door that was chipping.

  Winchester opened the door yelling, “Damn nigga. You bangin’ on my shit like you the police!”

  “Shit, next time answer this muthafucka then. I got shit to take care of,” Smiley said as he entered the dimly lit dank house.

  Winchester looked out the door at the Chevy. He remembered the Nine-Eight being Anthony’s. He locked the door and when they walked through the kitchen Smiley frowned at the old food and dirty dishes that were everywhere with roaches trying to dart in and under whatever they could to hide. Winchester told a skinny dusty looking light skinned teenager to watch the front. The boy grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and walked to the front room so he could keep a look out. The light was off so no one could see him sitting in the chair at the window. He pulled a pistol out of his waistband and set it on the windowsill, then cracked open the brew and sipped as he conducted guard duty.

  Smiley followed Winchester down the stairs to a dimly lit basement where there was a couple of young men playing XBOX and one grimy looking dude rolling blunts and stacking them into a cigar box. If it weren’t for Winchester knowing Smiley didn’t have any money and were getting the guns on a front, Smiley would have been worried that he was going to get jacked.

  “So you got what I need?” Smiley asked.

  “Yeah, but I need my paper tomorrow. I ain’t running no fucking charity outfit.”

  “I gotcha.”

  Winchester went to the bar and grabbed a beer for Smiley. He accepted it and sipped as he watched Winchester set three Tech-nines on the bar.

  “Told you I only needed two.”

  “Fool, I’m giving you your choice. Either these two black ones or one black and one nickel plated. The nickel plated is a little extra but she is sexy,” he said as he held up the weapon admiring it.

  “I’m straight with the black ones. What we’re doing we don’t need that shinny shit.”

  Winchester put the weapons in a gym bag. While he was getting a couple of boxes of 9mm ammo he asked Smiley, “What your ladies’ man ass gonna do with this shit? You don’t know nothin’ about pistol play.”

  The man rolling the blunt and the two cats playing the video game laughed. Smiley was a little shitty at the joke being on him and never the one to be outdone, he told Winchester, “Nigga after tonight, muthafucka’s gonna be coppin’ from Smiley. I’ma be the man.”

  “What nigga, you jackin’ a nigga fo’ his shit. I mean your nigga out in the car Ant, that nigga got the heart for some shit like that but you a pimp baby. Not a hustler.”

  “Shit nigga we ’bout to come up on some keys and you can deduct the three hundred I owe you for these Tech’s when you come to get a bird from me for fifteen. Yeah nigga, I said it fifteen thou a kilo. That’s how I’ll be doin’ it this time tomorrow,” Smiley said as he took the bag from the young arms dealer.

  Winchester opened the front door and scanned the block before opening the screen door to let Smiley out. The lookout told him that everything was all good but the dealer didn’t take chances. He closed the door behind Smiley, waited and watched as he and Ant drove off. When he turned, all four of his boys were already behind him with wicked grins painted on their faces.

  * * *

  Ant and Smiley went out the back door into the alley where Baby G was waiting in the stolen Bonneville. Baby G always made sure to steal four door vehicles when going on a mission. No need in having any of his partners having to climb over a seat in case the shit hit the fan and they had to bail for some reason. Ant got in the front seat and Smiley in the back. Ant had already laid the demo down to Baby G over the phone. The only thing he didn’t let him know was the intended target and his address—Ant knew better. Baby G and Ant were cool since grade school but Ant knew he was dealing with a street gangster who could be grimy when he needed to be. And a twenty-kilo heist as easy as this, it wasn’t too hard for that griminess to come out—even against a friend.

  Ant gave G the address. He put the car in gear and drove off then suddenly stopped after traveling only twenty yards.

  Ant looked at Baby G and asked, “What the fuck, nigga?”

  Baby G who was short and dark-skinned with corn rows patterned straight back with blue rubber bands tied on the tips, looked over at Ant and with his squeaky low tone that didn’t match his ruthless look, he said, “I forgot.”

  Irritated, Ant asked, “Forgot what, nigga?”

  G grabbed a cassette out of his coat and slipped it in the deck. He pressed play and Al Green’s ‘Love And Happiness’ began to play.

  “My theme music,” he told Ant and Smiley as he lit a Newport before putting the car in gear and driving off.

  From the back seat Smiley laughed, “You got that shit off Menace to Society.”

  Baby G looked seriously into th
e rearview mirror at Smiley and asked, “How you know they didn’t get that shit off me?”

  They all paused as Baby G turned onto Seven Mile and it was quiet until they all burst out laughing. Ant then told them all to chill and for Smiley to lie down on the seat. The Bonneville had no tint and two young black males riding might get a pass but three, you were pressing your luck with a white Detroit policeman—hell even some of the black ones. They only had a few miles to go to get to their target’s house, an upper-level drug dealer by the name of White Dave—Tavarious’ supplier. No one knew from whom Tavarious got his dope. He made sure to keep all his business on the low just like all the dealers who dealt with White Dave and this caused White Dave to slip. He got comfortable—a white boy making a ton of money with a bunch of brotha gangsters pretending to be his friends. White Dave had grown up in a middle class neighborhood in the suburbs. While he was in college at Western Michigan University, he just happened to be roommates with an Arab who was connected. White Dave, who at the time was known only as Dave, enjoyed the parties and sexy women his roommate invited him to indulge in. Once the Arab knew his roommate was addicted to the life, he let him in on the secret that would afford him those things on his own. After a few fronts of cocaine—the Arab no longer was enrolled at the college and Dave was now the man. Dave soon left college and started expanding and now here he was, one of the big time dealers and virtually unknown.

  Tavarious came up with a plan to rip off Dave’s dope without him knowing it was him. He had a sexy chocolate delight get close to White Dave, who had a penchant for the sistas. The woman pulled a Sunshine from the movie Harlem Nights on his ass and she was finally able to produce for Tavarious. She found out that the spot where Dave took her to get his brains fucked out was the same place he kept some of his stash. The woman had a date with him tonight and her job was to get him drunk, fuck him until he couldn’t see straight and then unlock one of the back doors or windows before he took her back home. Or the place where he thought the woman lived seeing as how she wasn’t from Detroit, but Fort Wayne, Indiana, a place where Dave would never think to find her. The woman had paged the number Tavarious had given her—a cell he’d given to Anthony. When she hit the number up, it meant that no one was at the house—that Dave was taking her home.

  Anthony pointed and Baby G made his way up the block. Once Anthony got a good look and made sure of the address he told Baby G to hit the alley. He was creeping up the narrow path with the headlights off and stopped when Anthony told him to. They had already gone over what each person was supposed to do. Anthony and Baby G were dressed in all black as they raced toward the house. A dog began barking as they hoped the four-foot chain link fence but the canine was two houses down and they knew that there would be no peeking out the window by the owner of this house. The two burglars came to a halt under the window on the right of the old white frame house. They sat still on the part grass part dirt ground for a moment. The closest streetlight was three houses down and the woman had done her part by cutting the back porch light out before she and Dave left.

  It was humid out and Baby G was sweating his ass off under the black sweatshirt he was wearing coupled with the excitement of hitting a major lick unlike Anthony who was used to pulling B&E’s. Anthony was at ease knowing that everything was laid out for him—the entry, how long the owner was going to be gone, what kind of goods were in the house and where they were located. This was going to be one of the easiest scores of his young thieving career.

  Anthony looked at Baby G and nodded. No words were needed—Baby G knew what was next. Ant stood as G clutched his Tech-9 and guarded his partner in crime as he attempted to slide the window up. It rose smoothly. Sunshine had done her job. Tavarious had found a smooth one. Baby G cupped his hands as Ant stepped his black boot onto the manmade step and into the window he went. G clutched his weapon and waited by the back door that was only a few feet away from the window. He heard the clicking of the locks and then the wooden door creaked open. He immediately slipped in ready to help his boy claim what they where there for.

  Smiley sat in the Bonneville and watched as the two entered the house. The engine was idling but the lights were off. He thought about the come up that they were on and what he was going to do with his share. Him being a player he also thought about the night he and Anthony were going to have with Tomeka and Denise—two girls that they had met at a set a few nights ago. They weren’t the best-looking females at the party but they had ghetto bodies and to them that’s all that mattered. Smiley’s pager went off. He checked the number and didn’t recognize it. He wasn’t supposed to. That moment of distraction was all the assailant needed. A pistol was pointed at Smiley’s head and he almost shitted on himself.

  In a low but forceful tone the assailant barked, “Nigga you got caught slippin’.”

  Smiley recognized the voice as one that he’d heard earlier in the night, but before he could react, the man squeezed the trigger of the pistol that had a silencer attached to the barrel. All Smiley heard was a pssst. Brain and blood blew all over the passenger’s side door then his body slumped over to that side. The man opened the driver’s door and pushed Smiley’s bleeding body over to the passenger’s seat so he could get in. He closed the door and sat behind the wheel as if he were Smiley.

  It didn’t take long for Anthony and Baby G to exit the house. They both had Tech-9s in hand and a black canvass bag strung over their shoulders. Baby G was in front and wasn’t hesitating to get to the car. He was halfway across the grass when Anthony noticed something. The man in the car was looking straight ahead. Anthony felt that something was wrong. Smiley would have been looking at them coming out of the house. It was as if the person in the car didn’t want them to see his face.

  Anthony yelled a whisper, “Baby G!”

  The short man stopped in his tracks and turned toward Anthony, yelling, “What nigga? Let’s bail.”

  “The car it—”

  Before he could finish warning his partner, shots rang out from their right. One of the many rounds reached its intended target. Baby G’s body twisted to the side, but he didn’t fall when the round tore into his shoulder. Without hesitation Anthony began spraying rounds in the direction of the shooter. He didn’t let up until shots came at him from the Bonneville. They were wild shots from a pistol. Baby G, who was now on the ground behind a big oak tree laid some fire at the car. He didn’t know that it wasn’t Smiley. While he was spraying the rounds he envisioned Smiley’s body falling out the door. He had thought that Smiley had turned on them. Little did he know that Smiley was lying on the passenger’s seat barely alive but getting closer to finding out if there was such a thing as God or a devil.

  Anthony noticed the young gangster’s rage and feared that if Smiley was still in the vehicle he might get hit by one of the rounds.

  “Yo, that ain’t Smiley,” he yelled.

  Baby G heard his partner and that gave him all the reason to keep firing. The man opened the door and tried to escape. He laid down shots toward Baby G as he ran and that gave Anthony the opportunity. He cut the man down with about four rounds. The man fell face first to the littered concrete ground of the alley. More shots came from the backyard to their right. Anthony laid down fire. He ran out of rounds and when he stopped to change his clip Baby G noticed the silhouette of the shooter moving toward Ant to get into a better position to take him out. That was G’s chance. He took aim and fired three rounds that dropped the man like a rock. Ant looked over at Baby G and didn’t have to say a word. His expression gave all the thanks.

  No more shots came racing their way. All was quiet besides the barking of dogs. Ant and G knew they didn’t have much time before the area would be covered with anxious cops looking for some action. They noticed the man who they had cut down while exiting the Bonneville was slowly crawling getting nowhere while clutching on broken glass, litter and gravel. Ant nodded toward the man. Baby G knew what was up and hurried toward him as Ant raced to the Bonneville
to see if his best friend was still in the vehicle. He hoped that he was and was just tied up or something but his intuition told him better. When he reached the car he screamed, “Nooo!”

  Baby G had just kicked the pistol away from the young man who was crawling on the ground bleeding profusely when he heard Ant’s cries. Keeping his Tech-9 aimed at the man as he kept his foot on his neck he yelled, “What’s up?”

  “They killed Smiley!” Ant yelled as he grabbed hold of his partner.

  Baby G with anger in his eyes looked at the man on the ground. He adjusted the shoulder strap to the bag that held ten kilos then pointed his Tech-9 at the skinny young man then gritted his teeth as he spit venom, “Who killed my boy?”

  When the man didn’t answer he kicked him hard in the ribs where it was obvious that was where one of his wounds was. The man screamed and begged. The faint sounds of sirens were getting louder and it was just a matter of time before they wouldn’t be able to escape.

  Smiley put the pistol to the man’s head and whispered, “Fuck it.”

  “It was Winchester that nigga sent us to do this, don’t kill me,” the frail looking young man pleaded.

  Baby G’s facial expression told it all. He couldn’t believe that the older cat that sold guns in the ’hood tried some shit like this. He came to from his thoughts and anger repainted his face. A bright flash lit the alley and a loud pop was all that was heard. Baby G yelled, “Yo, we gotta get the fuck outta here. 5-0 will be here any second!”

  “Dip nigga, meet you at the spot.”

  Baby G didn’t hesitate. The short muscular man reached into his pocket for his cell phone to call one of his cousins who lived in the area for a ride back to his side of town and disappeared into the night with the bag of cocaine bouncing with every step.

  Ant took all of Smiley’s belongings off of him so it would take the detectives a while to figure out who he was. That would give him and Baby G time to get any alibis and stories straight in case they ended up getting questioned seeing as how everyone on the streets knew that they were boys. He then dipped in between some houses making his way to the opposite direction of the oncoming squad cars.