Tampa Black: Part ! (4 page)

Entering the plush V.I.P room, Trion and Carlos were impressed. Much like the rooms they had just passed, the room had a spacious decor adorned with lavish furnishings fit for a King. Fixing their drinks at the mini bar inside of the room, Trion and Carlos quickly began to rehash their plans. Securing every detail, they ended the conversation just as Smoke pushed open the door, and stepped inside with Tasha in tow. There was no mistaking that his wild young cousin Smoke was ready for whatever.

Looking into Smoke’s eyes, Trion could also tell that he was heavily sedated on what the streets called “boonk,” which was a mixture of weed laced with cocaine. Although Trion wanted to speak on the matter, he knew that now wasn’t the time or place. He decided that he would address it later. Speaking in his usual slow southern drawl, Smoke informed the others that he had found Zion’s car parked next to the harbor, and that he had planted some explosives under it. Smiling at the thought of the war ending quickly, Carlos checked his fire arms taking their safeties off before holstering them, and taking another sip of his drink.

Making her way over to Trion, Tasha paused, looking into his eyes before kissing him on the lips. Stepping back, she felt her nerves begin to rattle as she spoke.

“Baby Zion has four body guards inside of the V.I.P, and all of them have guns. I told my girls that we’re going to work our way to the stage in ten minutes, that’s your best chance to make your move. The back exit door leads to the back parking lot where his car is, so you’re going to have to move fast.”

Hearing the math, Smoke added,

“there are two shooters lingering in the parking lot. I’ll take care of them …”

Satisfied with the plans, Trion allowed Tasha and Smoke to go play their positions while he and Carlos pulled their weapons and prepared to enter the hallway. Just as Carlos was about to open the door, he heard a knock and some giggling coming from the other side. Quickly concealing their weapons, Carlos cracked the door and saw three seductive sisters standing in the hallway. Smiling, one of the ladies spoke,

“Hey sexy. You need some company?”

Although he was tempted Carlos declined, and allowed the ladies to clear the hallway before he and Trion emerged and drew their guns.

As they silently approached the outside of Zion’s room, only a few voices could be heard inside, so they knew that Tasha and her friends had left the room. Feeling the rush of adrenalin numbing their nerves, Trion and Carlos poured into the room and the fireworks began. Caught slightly by surprise, Zion grabbed his revolver from the table next to a mound of cocaine, and fired a few shots before making a dash for the exit door.

As the gunfire ensued, bodies dropped as bullets ripped through the air claiming lives. In the midst of the melee, Zion flew out of the back door like his life depended on it; and it did. Seeing their boss running for his life, the dreads who were standing in the parking lot drew their weapons. As they opened fire making their way to Zion’s car, one of them jumped in the driver’s seat and placed the keys in the ignition, while bullets from Smoke’s A.R 15 knocked chunks out of the car’s metal frame.

When the young dread turned the key in the ignition, that was the last thing he did. The car exploded into a ball of fire sending shudders through the concrete, disturbing everyone’s balance. Just then, Zion’s right hand man Tecko sped around the corner forming a barrier between Zion and the gunfire. Tasting his only opportunity to escape, Zion dove into the back cab of the truck Tecko was driving while taking a hit in the shoulder by a high caliber shell.

“Jah!”

Zion screamed in pain as the bullet knocked a golf ball sized hole out of his flesh.

Barley escaping with his life, Zion cursed himself knowing that his life had almost found its end. Someone had to pay for this, but who? Zion had no idea who had made an attempt on his life, however; he did think he had recognized the two shooters who had busted into the V.I.P room. The only thing that puzzled him was, where did he know them from; and why did they want him dead?

CHAPTER 5

SLIPPERS COUNT

The next day as Trion and Tasha lay in bed in his condo in North Tampa, the news come on. Turning up the volume in the 90-inch TV mounted on the bedroom wall, they both listened intently as the anchor woman disclosed the events from the night before. As the news cameras flashed pictures of the bullet ridden club, and the destroyed vehicles in its parking lot, it looked like a scene from a war zone.

“This is Kimberly Jones reporting live from, St Petersburg’s club Ecstasy, where it appears that two undisclosed groups of African American males engaged in a savage shoot out leaving six dead bodies and thirteen wounded citizens in the wake. One person of interest in this case fits the description of an alleged local King Pin known as Zion Andrews. He is wanted for questioning pertaining to this incident, so if anyone has any leads as to his where bouts please notify your local law enforcement…”

Seeing Zions face on T.V sent a sliver of anger up Trion’s spine, so he turned off the T.V and looked at Tasha.

“Come on Bae, let’s get out of here and do some shopping.”

Tasha squealed with joy as she smiled from ear to ear, and kissed him on the cheek. Shopping was one of her favorite pass times, and he knew it. Needless to say she was with it.

After sharing a shower, Trion and Tasha got dressed to impress. Tasha wore a grey sheer mid drift Donna Karen blouse that matched her grey Donna Karen leggings, and grey DK. Spaghetti strapped sandals. Tasha was a star, and she knew it, yet she was down to earth. Trion wore a royal blue Sean John button down, accompanied with some black Sean John slacks, and a pair of royal blue S.A.Q quarter cut boots. He looked like money, and together they looked like celebrities.

Pulling up at University Square Mall, Trion and Tasha fought to find a parking spot before making their way through the crowded maze of stores. Being that Tasha was a true fashion freak, she pulled Trion through every store in sight as she either bought; or tried on everything her heart desired.

As Trion watched her zip in and out of stores in pure bliss, he thought about his mother and how she used to like to get all dolled up before going to church. Re-visiting his memories, Trion could almost hear his mother’s voice,   

“Trion, baby when you look good, you feel good. God didn’t make beauty so we can just walk around looking like bums …”

Slipping out of his trance, he heard Tasha calling his name,

“Trion… Baby what’s on your mind? I’ve been calling your name for about five minutes…”

Feeling slightly guilty for not hearing her, he simply smiled and apologized.

“I’m sorry bae. I was just thinking about my Ole girl… Look, you hungry ma?”

Knowing that now was not the time to press, Tasha let it go, and accompanied her man to the food court. The smell of fast food favorites was so heavy in the air that you could almost taste them. They hadn’t realized that they were so hungry until they sat down to eat. As the two indulged in Chinese food and an array of various topics of conversation, Trion noticed a familiar face. The young man in question was a dark skinned dread with wild looking locks in his head. His name was Koran. The more Trion zeroed in on his face, the more he was certain that he was one of the dreads that had murdered the man in front of his mother’s porch the night before she was also murdered. In his heart, Trion knew that Koran had something to do with his mother’s death, so as he watched him he began to plot.

It's a small world and there are no free passes, so Trion picked up his cellphone and called is younger cousin Smoke. When Smoke answered the phone, Trion skipped the small talk, not wanting to let the dread get away. He spoke in a quick hushed tone as Tasha watched.

“Listen dawg. I need you and Los to meet me at the food court in University Square Mall A. S.A. P, and bring some fire.”

Not even allowing Smoke an opportunity to respond, Trion hung up and gave Tasha a few instructions.

“Listen bae in about five minutes get your bags and go back to the house. I’ll call you as soon as this business is handled.”

Knowing that arguing was useless, Tasha did what she was asked.

As Tasha got up to leave, Koran looked in her direction. Something about her was familiar, but he brushed it off, and waited for his drop man to pull up with the work he had come to get… Casually strolling up to Trion’s table, Smoke took a seat and greeted his cousin.

“What up dawg?... I got the fire in the car, but Los had to tie up some loose ends so he couldn’t come. What’s the problem dawg? …”

While Trion quickly spelled out the details, Smoke stole a glance at Koran. In his mind he noted that he had also seen him at the club Ecstasy. As Trion and Smoke silently sat doing surveillance, Koran’s connect walked up carrying an identical foot locker bag to the one sitting under Korans tables. Sitting down, the well-dressed stranger smoothly switched bags without hesitation. The movement was so fluent that, if you weren’t observing extremely close, you would have missed it.

The stranger spoke briefly with Koran before getting up to leave, eventually disappearing into the sea of bodies drifting through the mall. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Koran got up and casually made his way towards the exit door that lead to the malls rear parking deck. Stepping into the spring air of the secluded parking lot, there were minimal bodies visible. Smoke’s blood was boiling in his veins, he wanted to murder Koran on the spot, but Trion stopped him.

“Not here dawg. There are too many cameras. Let’s follow him to his spot, I need some information from this nigga anyway …”

Hopping into Smoke’s gray 65 SS Impala, Trion and his cousin sat in the car waiting for Koran to pull out before trailing him into traffic… Pulling into his neighborhood across Fletcher avenue, Koran bobbed his head to the hypnotic beat of Rick Ross’s album Port of Miami. Looking into his rearview mirror as he took another hit of the boonk he was smoking, Koran could have sworn that he had seen the Impala that was behind him at the mall. Shrugging off the thought as paranoia, he pulled into the parking spot of his spacious loft.

Just out of his street instinct and curiosity, Koran sat in his car and waited for the gray Impala to pass by before getting his bags’ and stepping outside of his car. He tried to see if he could identify the occupants of the vehicle, but the tint on its windows were too dark to see through, so he let it pass.

Stepping inside of his spacious loft, Koran smiled to himself. He had finally made it to the big time, his only regret was his childhood friends Zah. Although he wished that his comrade was still breathing, he decided that he would just have to live for both of them. Sitting at his dining room table, Koran emptied the contents in the footlocker bag onto the table. In all, he counted ten kilos of raw cocaine. The math was accurate. As he began to break down and weigh the product, his concentration was snatched away by what sounded like thunder.

Chunks of wood flew from the door jamb as Smoke kicked in Koran’s back door not five feet from where he was weighing the work. On pure reflex, Koran dove for his weapon, but he never made it. As soon as he moved, Trion blew a golf ball sized hole through his hand. As blood began to seep all over the plush carpet, Koran lay on his back looking up at the two men in dismay. Now getting a good look at Trion’s face, he began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“Fuck…”

Trion looked so much like his mother that there was no mistaking the resemblance. It was at that moment that he knew that his life was over.                      After Smoke bound and gagged him to a chair, Trion beat him to within an inch of his life. Seeing that he was almost unconscious, Trion took a box cutter from a kitchen drawer and cut him from his head to his waist after stripping him of his shirt so that he could feel the effects of the pain that was coming. Feeling the cold water as it splashed on his face, Koran struggled to open his eyes only to find Trion standing in front of him with a bowl of battery acid. Seeing that he had regained consciousness, Trion spoke with malice.

“Listen dawg. I’m only going to ask you these questions once. You either die painlessly or painfully, it’s your choice…”

After applying pressure, every question that Trion asked was answered without hesitation. Within an hour, he knew everything that he needed to know, it was too bad for Koran that his co-operation was not enough. Trion wanted him to feel the pain of a thousand deaths, so he re-gagged him; and began to apply the battery acid onto the open wounds of his skin. Unable to bare the pain, the young dread eventually passed out in anguish

Turning to walk out of the door, Trion looked at Smoke and spoke almost in a low growl;

“It’s over …”

Taking the que from his cousin, Smoke stepped in front of Koran and quickly released two rounds into his skull before walking out of the door; leaving Koran’s dead body in the wake. This was a message for the streets, no one would be spared once family blood was shed...