Part 1 of Chapter 22 ( Gabos )

Three and a Half Months Later

This Saturday night was the night they been waiting on. It’s been three and a half months since they killed and robbed Black. They made sixty-eight thousand off the four keys, selling them at seventeen apiece. But this is the one lick Fatboy and Flick hoped would get them out the game for good, so they can enjoy the fruits of their labor. As Fatboy, Flick, and Pokey sat inside the baser all-black Chevy with tinted window, they saw Turtle, Lo-P, and Rim pull up in another all-black Chevy that they had the same baser rent in his name. So if anything went wrong, the cars wouldn’t come back in their names. As Pokey pulled off, Turtle followed suit by following right behind them off to the journey at hand. The only difference was inside the ride that carried Fatboy and his to friends to their destination, it was quiet, the only sounds could be heard was the low sound of Tupac playing on the radio, “All I need in this life of sin, is me and my girlfriend, down the blocks to the bloody end, just me and my girlfriend.” ’Cause all three boys were deep in thought, thinking about the outcome. If things didn’t go right, they knew it was a fifty-fifty chance they would either come out on top or be thrown to the bottom. Either way it was a chance they were willing to take. In the car following was Turtle and his two cousins, talking shit and loading every gun they brought with them.

In their minds, it’s already said, “We’ll rather be carried by six, then judge by twelve so everyone knew how they was going out. “Hold courts in the streets, thus style, back up front in the first tide.”

Fatboy finally broke the silence, “Dog, what’s up? Y’all good, ’cause y’all extra quiet tonight,” Fatboy said, looking at his two friends, he hoped not for the last time.

“Na’ll, dog, I’m cool, just mentally preparing myself for the battle at hand,” Pokey said.

“And I’m okay,” Flick said. “I’m just thinking ’bout my momma, and how she would go crazy if something happens to me. That’s why we gotta be on point,” Flick said.

“No fuckups. We feel you, lil dirty,” Pokey said. “But chill, we ’bout to pull up close to this nigga’s place of rest, so get yoself together,” Pokey advised his friends who started pulling on the ski masks and black gloves to go along with the black dickey outfit they were rocking just for this night.

“That’s what I’m talking ’bout,” Pokey said, watching his two friends go to work, pulling their masks over their face. “Y’all niggas act like y’all ready for war.”

“Ready for war, or ready to start a war?” Fatboy said.

“Dog, we ready for whatever,” Flick said. But if the truth was told, his heart was ready to jump out his chest and run back to the projects, but somehow he kept it in check.

“Look, we gonna be in and be out, unless it’s some problems,” Pokey said. “Listen, we gonna walk through these woods, it’s a path that leads to his house,” Pokey said, turning the car off, getting out. As he watched Turtle pull up alongside him, “What’s up? Y’all ready to set this bitch off like Jada?” Turtle said with a slight laugh, looking over, watching Rim and Lo-P pass the fire to Flick and Fatboy. As they were doing that, Pokey reached back inside the car and came back out, holding a baby Uzi.

“Damn, y’all niggas act like we ’bout to off the president, or rob the Twin Towers with all this fire we got,” Rim said.

“Damn, I thought the war was in Israel, not Ocala,” Lo-P said. And everyone laughed, trying to loosen up.

“Real shit though, it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Pokey said. “This a real live street nigga we dealing with, and nine times outta ten, the nigga ain’t going down without a fight,” Pokey said.

“Man, fuck that nigga, and fuck all this stalling. What’s the plan?” Turtle asked, while mean mugging.

“Check it,” Pokey said. “I know ain’t no dogs or video cameras, ’cause don’t nobody know this where the famous Mr. Big rest his head at. So shit should be gravvy getting in the house, as long as we go unnoticed, that is, I’ve been watching this nigga every move for the last three and a half months, and I never saw anyone come or go besides his wife and daughter.” With that being said, Pokey began to think, “It will be fucked up if I let something happen to Trirena who’s supposed to be my lil sister. Listen y’all, when we kick the door in, don’t nobody open fire, unless a bitch bust on us first. If it’s more than one person in the house, don’t kill nobody without asking me,” Pokey said.

“Man, you tripping,” Lo-P said, sliding the hammer back on the ark.

“Look, nigga, either you gonna follow our lead, or you can burn up now and go on ’bout your business,” Pokey said, angry. “Your choice.”

“Man, y’all niggas on some sucker shit, a nigga supposed to shoot first, ask questions last,” Lo-P said. “But this once, I’mma follow y’all lead, but the first sign of trouble, I’m doing me,” Lo-P said, looking Pokey square in the eyes.

“All right, no more said,” Pokey said, pulling the ski mask down over his face, as Turtle followed suit. “The plan is get in, get out, with as much as we can get from this nigga, y’all got that?” Pokey asked. As everyone was locked in on the house up ahead and as they creep up on the house, it began to rain.

“Look at this. Luck must be rolling with us tonight. Now with the rain, it will drown out some of the noise we may have to make.” As they started toward the door, they saw a light go out, then another one. “Well, we know somebody home,” Pokey said.

“Now what?” Fatboy asked.

“We wait ’bout ten minutes, give or take, to give whoever that is, time to relax and get comfortable.” Ten minutes later, Pokey said, “Let’s do this,” watching everyone get up off the ground, fire in hand.

“Lo-P, you and Rim, sneak up to the door, and on the count of 3, kick the door in, and we gonna run in and catch whoever off guard,” Pokey said. “Y’all ready, 1, 2, 3!” Boom, the door flew off the hinges, as Pokey, Fats, Turtle, and Flick ran inside the house with gats out, screaming, “One wrong move, bitch, you die,” as Rim and Lo-P came in right after them.

“Damn, this easy,” Pokey was thinking. “Caught the nigga slipping, here it is. This nigga ’bout to get robbed, and we catch him lying on the sofa with his wife.”

“How sweet, look like y’all was about to enjoy a nice movie,” Turtle said, looking at the woman on screen eat another woman’s pussy. “Damn, y’all freaky.”

“Nigga, get ya bitch ass us. And if you wanna live, you better not try shit!” Pokey screamed, sticking the fire in Mr. Big’s face. As Mr. Big sat up, he looked at the masked man and asked Pokey, “So this how you repay a nigga that fed your ass, huh?”

Caught off guard by the question, Pokey became heated and screamed, “Bitch nigga, what you just said, nigga? What you just said, don’t sweat it jitterbug.” Never knowing Mr. Big said what he said, testing the nigga reaction, ’cause everything about the masked man made him feel like this was his own son. And if his gut reaction told him right, he already knew if he made it out of this alive, he would kill his own son.

“Nigga, oh, you wanna play deaf?” Pokey said, slapping Mr. Big in the face with the pistol in his hand, which made a crushing sound, as blood poured from his nose. The force of the hit brought Mr. Big outta his thinking, “Look, nigga, we can do this two ways, the easy way or the hard way, it’s your choice. So I’mma be nice and give you thirty seconds to decide, what you wanna do?” Pokey said, counting out loud, as Mr. Big just looked on in defeat.

“Listen, tie that bitch up to a chair or something, just in case she wanna be superwoman,” Pokey screamed. As he stopped counting as he watched Fatboy place the gun to the woman’s head and politely say, “Get your ass up, and, bitch, you better not scream or say shit, unless you want to leave this earth with a hole in your head.” As the woman got up, she was shaking so bad, her blouse came open, revealing a perfect body with a fat pussy and nice-size titties. As everybody stared at the nude lady, she pulled her blouse together and tried to cover herself the best way she could. But Lo-P snatched the whole blouse off, leaving her standing there naked and shaking.

“Bitch, sit down,” Lo-P said, and the woman slowly walked to the chair and sat down, with tears in her eyes.

“Nigga, your thirty seconds is up, what you choose?” Pokey asked Mr. Big.

“Nigga, I ain’t got shit here, and she ain’t got nothing to do with this,” Mr. Big said in a calm voice, not blinking, just staring through the ski mask Pokey wore.

“Look, y’all two,” Pokey said, pointing at Fatboy and Flick, “go check every room in this bitch, and make sure nobody else is here.”

“Nigga, ain’t nobody here, you ain’t got to worry. It’s nobody here but y’all and us,” Mr. Big said, nodding his head toward his wife.

“Fuck, nigga, ain’t nobody ask you shit,” Pokey said. Pointing to Turtle, “Dog, roll with them, I got them two,” he said, pointing at Lo-P and Tim. As he kept his gun to Mr. Big’s head, he watched as his three friends went in different directions, trying to find more prey. “Now, listen, if you wanna make it through this, all I wanna know is where is all the money.”

“Nigga, I told you I don’t keep nothing here,” Mr. Big said.

“Nigga!” Bam, bam Pokey slapped Mr. Big with the gun. “Who the fuck you yelling at? You think a nigga playing with your bitch ass, that’s what you think. You think this a game, nigga?”

“No, all I see is history repeating itself, Pokey,” Mr. Big said.

“What, damn, this nigga know it’s me,” Pokey was thinking. “Well, looks like you want live after all,” Pokey said, snatching the mask off, revealing his identity. “’Cause you can call it history repeating itself, the difference is, it won’t be nobody coming to your rescue. So like I said, you can make it easy or hard.”

“Nigga, fuck you!” Mr. Big yelled. “Suck my dick, lil punk-ass nigga. I’m the same nigga who put ya punk ass on, now you on some cutthroat shit!” Mr. Big kept yelling till he heard Pokey said, “GABOS, game ain’t based on sympathy, nigga. The whole time I’ve been plotting on your ass. See, sometimes you gotta play up under a nigga to get what you really want.”

“Is that so,” Mr. Big said, trying to get out the chair, but it was no use. Pokey hit him with the gun again, damn near knocking him out cold. As blood oozed down his face, he felt himself being tied up to the chair that was holding him up. As he lifted his head, he looked Pokey dead in the eyes and said, “Lil nigga, you better make sure you kill me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, it’s taken care of,” Pokey said, patting Mr. Big on the head. Just as Pokey took a step back, Mr. Big spat a glob of blood at him, missing by a feet.