Forging deeper into the interior of the warehouse, the dreads took a closer look at the bodies that had fallen. At closer inspection, they saw that all the bodies were dummies. Angered by the insult to his intelligence, Zion’s young Copa exploded with venom.
“Jah! These bodies are blood clot dummies! Check the bumberass cargo...”
Breaking into the trucks, the men broke open the crates that were inside only to find them packed with raw chicken and beef products.
Parked down the street, detective Lawson sprang into action after hearing the gunshots. Pulling into the meat packing plant parking lot, multiple backup units arrived drawing their firearms while taking position behind their vehicles. Leading the pack, Lawson pulled a bullhorn from his car and began giving instructions to the occupants of the building.
“This is detective Lawson of the FBI; the building is surrounded. Put your weapons down and come out with of the building with your hands raised above your head.”
Being that everyone inside of the building was already wanted for murder, they knew that surrendering wasn't an option.
After almost an hour long standoff, law enforcement agents and sharpshooters stormed the building killing everything inside as the news helicopter hovering above, aired footage on a live broadcast. As Carlos and Smoke watched the monitors positioned in the meat market from the safety of a nondescript warehouse a block away, they knew that not only had they just dodged a bullet, they had also just ducked a slew of federal indictment.
The botched hit by the dreads told them two things. One Zion was back and playing for keeps, and two somehow the FEDs were on their heels. Looking over at Smoke, Carlos was visibly agitated.
“Dawg what the fuck just happened? How the fuck did the FEDs know about this spot?”
Almost as soon as he spit the question out, him and Smoke looked at each other and spoke the obvious at the same time.
“Fat Freddy ...”
Lighting a Black & Mild, Carlos smiled to himself.
“I guess we're at the boiling point dawg. Call Trion and let him know what the businesses is. This nigga Zion has to be dealt with ...”
Sitting in a recliner in his living room, Trion was playing with his son as the news flashes from the screen at the meat market crossed the screen. Walking into the living room in a pair of gym shorts and a sports bra, Tasha sat down on the couch and crossed her legs Indian style as she looked at the news.
“Oh my god... Trion please tell me that’s not Carlos and Smoke’s cars parked outside of that building ...”
With a tired look in his eyes, Trion looked at Tasha.
“Yeah Bae. They're good though.”
All though Trion hoped that his words were true, there was stress his voice, and Tasha detected it. Deep in her soul, Tasha knew that things would get worse before they got better, but she prayed that her family would survive the storm.
Hearing his phone ring, Trion picked it up and looked at the screen. Seeing that it was Smoke, he handed his son to Tasha and stepped out into the balcony of their beautiful new tri level mini mansions before answering.
“Yo what up dawg, y’all good?”
“Yeah cuz, we're good. I just wanted to give you the business on the shop.”
Wanting to get all of the details, Trion just listened as Smoke gave him the rundown.
“Dawg we had to go to plan B because we were being followed, we found out two things though. Zion is back in town and has been the one behind our spots getting hit, and Lawson is knee deep in our shit thanks to Fat Freddy's snitching ass. We tucked him in though. He won't be waking up no time soon.”
Hearing that the business with Fat Freddy was taken care of was a relief because in truth, he knew too much about family business to be allowed to live and talk to the cops. After hanging up with Smoke, Trion lit up a blunt of kush and sat on the balcony under the stars contemplating his next move.
As he thought to himself, Jago’s words of wisdom came to mind.
“Youth wen faced wit two evils dat come against you, find a way to use one to cancel de oda. Choose your moves wisely. Never allow de oda players to control de game by insisting you expose your hand. Jah bless young king ...”
Hearing the sliding door to the balcony open, Trion new it was Tasha, and that she was worried. Walking around to the front of Trion’s chair, Tasha straddled his lap facing him, and placed her arms around his neck looking intently into his eyes. Staring into the depths of the soul of the man she loved, Tasha could see all the love, pain, hope, and disappointment that he held inside.
Massaging his shoulders, Tasha could feel a lifetime of tension bundled up under his tight muscles. Kissing Trion softly on his lips, she silently wished that she could kiss his pain away, but the truth of the matter was evident; this story may not have a perfect ending. Knowing that his pain was her pain, Trion wanted to sooth her anxiety so as Tasha straddled across his lap, he wrapped his arms around her waist and slid his tongue in her mouth.
Beginning to feel that familiar throbbing sensation in her clit, she began to slow grind in his lap as she grabbed his dreads and kissed him passionately. Unbuckling his jeans, Tasha reached inside of his boxers and grabbed his erect manhood, stroking it slowly while still engulfed in their kiss. Exploring her thick thighs, his hands made their way up to the plump patch between her legs.
Pushing her gym shorts to the side, he was greeted by the warm moistness of her wet pussy. Slipping his fingers inside of her slippery walls, he found her clit and began to work his magic. Every time Tasha was about to culm, he pulled his fingers out and lightly patted her pussy lips teasing her orgasm. Finally, unable to take any more torcher, Tasha pulled his manhood inside of her and gripped it tightly as she rode him until they both exploded in a heat of passion…
After a long night of pleasure and pain, she woke up to find that Trion was gone. Rolling over, she caught a glimpse of the white sticky note that was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. Leaning over, Tasha grabbed the note off of the table and began reading.
“Good morning beautiful. I had to get up and out early this morning to iron out a few things, but I didn't want to wake you. I should be done by this afternoon, so I'll stop by your shop and bring you lunch. Love, Trion...”
Rolling onto her back, she smiled before putting a pillow over her face and screaming in joy. Last night had been amazing, and today was off to a good start. After calling her assistant, she got up, took a shower; and got her son dressed to impress. The ladies at the shop loved Jr, and he loved their attention. Grabbing her keys, she and Jr were out the door, and on their way.
Hanging up with Tasha, Kesha made a call to her latest love interest. In the last few weeks, he had shown her the finer things in life and had shed light on the fact that Tasha treated her more like a flunky than a friend. Poisoned reinforcements to accompany her own insecurities was more than enough to get Kesha to see things his way.
Speaking seductively into the receiver, Keisha greeted her prince charming.
“Hey baby... I have that information that you asked for.”
Smiling into the receiver, Kesha’s lover continued his game of chess with a level of expertise that was unmatched.
“Now say beautiful, tell me someting dat will make me smile ...”
Eager to please her new love, Kesha gave him the exact time Tasha would be arriving at work, the model and color of her car, and the address to the shop. Now equipped with the information he needed, the man of Kesha’s dreams hung up the phone without another word, and was on his way to his date with fate.
Being that he had a few hours to spare, for good measures, he set part two of his plan in motion. Picking up his throw away cell phone, Kesha’s king looked at the card that was given to him by an old acquaintance that he had met some years ago; and dialed the numbers. Answering the phone, detective Lawson spoke briskly, frustrated by the dead ends in his investigation into Trion’s crime Family.
“Hello... This is detected Lawson; how can I help you?”
Speaking in a disgusted tone, the caller addressed the detective.
“Mr. Lawson, if you want to solve de little case that you're working on, shut up and listen. Trions two right hand men are at one of their major stash houses in de warehouse district of Port Tampa as we speak. It is an open and shut case. Money, guns, and drugs. Don't miss dis opportunity detective ...”
After giving the detective the address, the caller abruptly disconnected the call. Revenge as they say, is a dish best served cold. If everything went according to plan, it was about to be a blizzard in the streets of Tampa.
Placing his cell phone back on his desk, detective Lawson leaned back in his chair and analyzed the information that had just been given. Although he had a hunch that the information was accurate, something about this call felt like a setup. After a few moments of reflection, detective Lawson finally bit the bait. The opportunity was too good to let it pass.
When Detective Lawson was first introduced to this case, he had no consideration or regard for the young crime boss Trion, but after the last few months of investigation, he had found a certain level of respect for the young man that the streets knew as Tampa Black…
Nevertheless, he had a job to do, and by all means, he had his mind set on doing it. Picking up his phone, he notified the leading agents of his small tactical squad, briefing them on the new intel. Within thirty minutes a twenty-man tactical squad led by detective Lawson was fully geared up in mobile, headed to Port Tampa.
On the other side of town, Trion gave last minute instructions to a few of his guys in a discrete condo.
“I need all of you to listen dawg. All operations are to be shut down. Nothing illegal is to move in this city that is attached to The Family. All documents and traces of our footprints are to be clean within the hour. Our inside guy just told me that a tactical squad has just been deployed to hit our spot in Port Tampa. I tried to call Smoke and Los, but I didn't get an answer.”
Looking at one of his faithful soldiers, Trion spoke in a flat tone.
“Geno take a few of your guys with you and let Smoke and Carlos know what the move is... Geno don't let nothing happen to my little cousins’ dawg. If they don't make it out alive, nobody makes it out alive …”
Sitting in a fold up chair in the corner of the count room in the Port Tampa count house, Smoke was watching the money machine calculate currency while smoking a Cuban cigar filled with kush and cocaine. The machine was only a third of the way through the pile of duffle bags filled with money, and the account was already two point five million dollars. As Smoke exhaled a thick cloud of potent smoke, he thought back to a time when this type of money was just a dream. Only three years prior to Trion bringing him to the teams, Smoke and Carlos were selling small arms that they had savaged from local pawn shops, and nickel and diming to make ends meet.
Smoke would always be thankful to his older cousin for giving him a shot at the big leagues of Tampa’s underworld, and he would protect The Family with his life when the time came. As the money machine stopped marking the end of its load, Smoke refilled the machine before sitting in front of the security monitors; surveying a five-mile radius around the property. Paranoia was always a force of habit while handling business, and today was no different. There was an omen in the air for some reason, and all though he couldn't visibly see anything out of place; Smoke couldn't shake the feeling.
As the workers came in and out transporting money from the room through the tunnel and into the waiting boats, Smoke’s phone was losing service; so he picked up the satellite phone to call Carlos. When the answering machine picked up, Smoke lost his cool.
“Dawg what the fuck are you doing? You got a nigga doing all the work while you're out somewhere tricking off? Get at me when you get this message dawg. ‘I’m moving the money, something don't feel right...”
Disconnecting the call, Smoke and his team went back to business.
With only a ten-man skeleton crew, the members of The Family had to work strategically to get the money counted, packed, and loaded on the boats for shipping. Although the operation was routine, everyone was on edge, so they were in overdrive trying to get the job done.