Juvie and Capo caught on quickly that everyone in the Swamp Mafia was falling. After Coy had been picked up an hour ago, Juvie, Capo, and Trap Money were on I-95 going north until they made it to Georgia, where Juvie and Capo’s mother lived in Decatur. They were paranoid and realized that to be free on the streets, they’d have to stick and move.
“Somebody telling?” Trap Money exclaimed while driving the Suburban.
“Man, I’ve been saying that from when they hit Lunatic. Sad thing about it, a nigga don’t know who it is!” Capo said.
Juvie was tired of talking about who could be the rat. It could be anybody, and with no evidence, pointing fingers was just not him. Juvie was glad to be leaving Martin County and Florida. Krystal had promised to move to Georgia the next month and Shaye did too. So neither Juvie nor Capo was losing anything or leaving anything behind but the streets.
On the other hand, Trap Money would have to adapt to the Georgia lifestyle. He was a straight country boy, and where they were going was the city. But Trap Money would easily adapt to the fast life in Atlanta once he saw how Juvie and Capo hugged the block, and he’d have the Georgia peaches going crazy.
It was a blessing for them to leave Florida without anything to think about. They were going to miss their grandmother, Mrs. Anderson, but they would also make brief visits. If the Swamp Mafia was falling, then they would too, if they stayed and got caught. The odd thing that didn’t make sense to Juvie and Capo was that of the traps that were kicked in by the DEA, the biggest was Jake’s store.
“Where the fuck are Real and T-Gutta?” Capo wanted to know.
“Shit! I bet them niggas doing the same shit we doing!” Juvie retorted.
“I hope so. I know them niggas smart,” Trap Money added.
“We cleaned up good. Only thing I hate is that Coy is in jail. The computer says twenty-five damn trafficking charges,” Juvie said.
“You think the crackas got pictures of us?” Capo asked.
“They probably do, but do they got us doing shit?” Juvie exclaimed.
“I hope not, brah.”
“Shit! We all hope they don’t got shit. If they do, they got to come to Georgia, and we know how to make their ass run it. Fuck the law!” Juvie yelled.
* * *
With her red and blue lights twirling, Agent Smalls sped up I-95 doing ninety miles per hour, with more FBI agents following to assist her. After relaying the news to Director Johnson that Bellda Success was Black’s actual bait to lure Jermaine “Real” Wilkins into a trap, Johnson had the FBI in Miami on standby following the ping of Bellda’s phone.
“Black is a smart and bold man!” Smalls said to Sullivan.
“Well, he’s not too smart, or else he would have seen you guys coming alongside him like Real. So I give the credit of intelligence to Real,” Sullivan retorted. “They’re entering North Dade now,” he added.
“North Dade. Black Dodge Durango,” Smalls screamed into her radio.
“Ten-four,” the agents in Miami responded.
“We’re going to take both of them, and then I will get a chance to meet Mr. Spears. It’s personal,” Smalls said.
After feeling the impact and pain still in her chest, Agent Smalls wanted Kentucky to feel something worse. Davis said if he ever got to Black, he would kill the man dead.
Don’t worry, baby. I will make sure he’s a dead man once I shoot him between his eyes, she thought.
Davis’s vengeance was hers, and she would do everything in her power to lay Black six feet deep, even if it resulted in her losing her life.
* * *
FBI agents Brown and Lucus were set up looking for the black Dodge Durango at the exit of Carol City. They were good friends with Davis and had been on the force with him from the beginning. They also knew how important it was for Davis to catch Black.
“Do you think this is really him?” Lucus asked Brown, who was following the ping from Bellda’s phone.
“I think!”
“Shit! My fucking screen froze up on me, man. Come on!” Brown exclaimed, hitting buttons on his laptop to try to unfreeze the screen.
Agent Lucus looked down at the screen and shook his head.
“Fuck!” Brown exclaimed.
After he completely shut the system down, Brown impatiently waited for the laptop to reboot. He never saw the black Durango pass with the blocking semitruck. It was 4:45 a.m., and the traffic was still heavy from people leaving nightclubs as well as going to work.
* * *
Black had four of his men standing outside guarding his palace and awaiting Crazy Zoe and Boxhead’s arrival. When they saw the Explorer pull up to the gate, they racked their AK-47s for caution. When they saw the hand reach out to access the code to gain entrance, they relaxed when the gate rolled back. As the Explorer pulled in, the Haitian mafia guards never saw the creeping threat behind the Explorer. It was too late for any of them to react as Snake and Bo-Bo ran back to the gate and waved in Real, who then pulled the Durango in and parked behind the Explorer.
* * *
Crazy Zoe and Boxhead had safely made it to Black’s palace. When Crazy Zoe rolled down the window to access the code, Kentucky had both of them in his M-100 scope. He first trained his scope on Boxhead in the passenger seat.
“There we go. Look at the camera,” Kentucky said as he pulled the trigger.
Crack!
Boxhead’s head exploded in a gruesome splatter of brains and blood onto his window and windshield.
“What the—?”
Crack!
Before Crazy Zoe could fathom, Kentucky pulled the trigger.
T-Gutta ran from across the street hidden behind bushes and made a dash toward the Explorer. He found Bellda in the trunk and quickly grabbed her in his arms. He placed her on the ground, cut the ropes binding her arms and legs with a pair of bolt cutters, and then removed the duct tape covering her mouth.
“Oh my gosh, T-Gutta. Where’s Real?”
“He’s okay. Let’s get you out of here!”
“No! I can’t leave without Real!” Bellda exclaimed.
“Bellda’s here,” T-Gutta said, giving her back her phone, “Real will be close. Let’s go!” T-Gutta said as he ran away down the street with Bellda.
Halfway down the road, they met up with a black limousine. T-Gutta hopped inside with Bellda, and Polo sat awaiting them.
* * *
“They’re leaving. They stopped briefly at 2707 169th, and now they are heading south,” Agent Smalls said into her radio.
“I don’t understand how Brown missed them!” Smalls said to Sullivan.
They’re going south. What is going on? Smalls thought, perplexed as she continued to follow Bellda’s ping.
She sent a small team to the address they had briefly stopped at to make sure Bellda wasn’t left behind. Smalls looked at her watch and saw that it was 5:25 a.m.
What a fucking long day! she thought. I miss you, Tod!
* * *
Black and the twins were still enjoying themselves. Drinking and fucking were all that the twins wanted to do. The Haitian music playing from a hidden surround system had the trio in their groove. Black was still waiting for Crazy Zoe and Boxhead to arrive. Black couldn’t wait to taste Bellda’s phat pussy. Just thinking of her made him erect for the umpteenth time that night. When Meme saw Black’s dick standing at attention, she placed her glass down on the edge of the Jacuzzi and climbed in his lap and straddled him.
“Thee mon want more of—”
Psst! Psst!
Before Meme could get the word out, two slugs landed between her eyes, knocking her backward into the water. Keke began screaming after seeing her sister’s dead body and the bloody water.
Psst! Psst!
Snake quickly hit her twice in the back of the head and then walked up on an unafraid Black, who hadn’t flinched in the slightest after seeing Meme get shot while straddling him. He was never afraid of death.
Black swiftly submerged in the bloody water, grabbing his Uzi at the bottom of the Jacuzzi, and came up with a fusillade that caught Bo-Bo off guard. Unfortunately, Black couldn’t escape the young lion, Real, who was nearby and emptied his Glock .40 into Black’s torso.
The force slammed Black into a sitting position on the opposite site of the Jacuzzi. He was still breathing even after Real had released his entire clip. Real inserted a fresh clip and was about to shoot into Black’s face to finish, until Snake stopped him.
“No! Let me now!” Snake said, retrieving a sword from his hip.
Blood poured from Black’s mouth as he looked Real in his eyes with trembling lips.
“It’s over nigga! That’s for my—oh shit!” Real exclaimed when he saw Snake decapitate Black’s head from his shoulders.
Real had never seen anything like it before in his life.
“Damn, man! You good at that shit!” Real said to Snake as he looked down at Black’s decapitated head, the eyes of which were still open and trained on him.
Snake walked over to Bo-Bo and knelt down. Bo-Bo was trembling and trying to speak.
“Cold,” Bo-Bo managed to squeak out as Snake bowed his head and began speaking in Creole.
Real looked at Black’s headless body and the blood-filled Jacuzzi with the naked Jamaican women, and felt the gain of restored power.
If Black could run from the FBI for over ten years, then I could run forever, Real thought.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Snake raise his sword and plunge it inside Bo-Bo’s throat.
Damn! Real thought as he walked out of the room with Snake on his heels.
* * *
The FBI agents who pulled up to 2702 169th were taken off guard by a sniper in a tree. Agent Brown knew the sniper’s favorite holes to hide in and had spotted the shooter and nailed him after rapidly shooting in his vicinity. Kentucky had taken six shots before he fell from the tree, but he was still breathing and holding onto his rifle. Agent Brown saw movement from the corner of his eye and aimed at Real and Snake coming out of the palace.
“Freeze!” Agent Brown screamed. “Drop your weapon or I will shoot!”
His partner, Lucus, was dead, and he was the last man standing out of four agents. He couldn’t trust no one’s movement, especially after being sniped.
“Drop your weapons now!”
Crack!
Before Brown could finish, Kentucky sniped him, hitting him in his head. Real ran over to Kentucky under the big oak tree and saw that he was hit up badly.
“Damn it, man!” Real exclaimed, seeing that Kentucky was trying to hold on to all he had left in his body.
“Don’t worry, brah,” Kentucky tried to speak in pain.
“Don’t talk. Please, brah!” Real said as he tried to apply pressure to some of Kentucky’s wounds, but he couldn’t treat them all.
“Shit man! Yo, Snake! Help me, man. He can’t die!” Real cried.
Real was losing his best friend who had stuck by him more than a brother, and who had helped build the foundation of the Swamp Mafia while in prison. Now he was dying in front of him, still trying to help Swamp Mafia stand tall even when everything was falling.
“Man, I’m getting cold. This shit feels crazy, brah,” Kentucky said.
When Real saw the bloody golds and the blood trickling down Kentucky’s mouth, he knew his friend was gone.
“I love you too, brah. Swamp Mafia!” Real cried.
Real then stood up to leave with Snake, who was now the third man in Zo’pound since Bo-Bo was dead.
“Death comes in odds always,” Snake said to Real as they left in the Explorer. “Remember.”
* * *
When Agent Smalls pulled over the limousine, she and Sullivan approached with their guns drawn while other agents surrounded the car.
“Drop all windows now!” Smalls ordered the chauffeur.
When the windows dropped, Agent Smalls stared Bellda in her eyes. “Bellda Success?”
“Yes ma’am. What is the problem?” Bellda asked nicely and calmly.
“Are you in any form of danger?” Agent Smalls asked while staring at Polo and T-Gutta.
“No, ma’am. Why?”
“Shots fired at 2707 169th!” Smalls heard the agent scream.
“Shit! Dead end!”
“Take her into custody. Sullivan, let’s go!” Smalls ordered the other agents as she hurried away.
“We should have gone to 2707 169th,” Smalls exclaimed as she sped to her fellow agents’ rescue.
When they arrived, she and Sullivan found backup that was closer than they were, and a damn war zone aftermath. When she found Black’s decapitated head, she smiled victoriously.
“I can’t even be mad at you, Real. You did us all a favor,” Smalls said, with her hands on her hips.
* * *
Dominique could tell that something was seriously wrong with Johnny from the moment he called her to come pick him up from Martin County. Seeing him without his own car was a dead giveaway that something was amiss.
They got a room at a Holiday Inn in Port St. Lucie. After a useless round of sex that was faster than Bolt, Dominique impudently asked Johnny what was wrong. For the first time since his infidelity to his brother, he broke down to Dominique about how he had turned rat on his brothers—the ones that put him in the lavish lifestyle that he lived. He wanted to run away and live where no one knew him, but he couldn’t run forever or live with the guilty sin he had committed. Despite hating rats and knowing that they got whatever they deserved, Dominique embraced Johnny and let him cry in her arms.
“I know, baby. I’ma clean up,” Johnny retorted as he stood up and wiped his face with his T-shirt.
As his shirt raised, Dominique saw his Glock 21 tucked into this pants.
“I’ma clean up. Give me a moment,” Johnny said again as he walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.
It only took Dominique a moment to fathom. “Johnny! Nooo!’” she screamed as she ran toward the bathroom door.
Boom!
“No, Johnny!” she cried, knowing he was gone.
* * *
At noon, Real was sitting inside his stolen SUV on 129th Street in Delray at the Haitian restaurant. Just like King Zoe had told him, Big Chub had shown by himself to get his grub on. Real watched as he stepped out of his Benz truck and walked inside. Real then watched him take a seat at a back booth. It was time to make his move.
With his hands in his jacket, Real walked into the restaurant and was hit with the redolence of Haitian food. He kept his eyes on Big Chub as he walked to the back. Big Chub’s head was down, looking at his phone. Not hearing from Black for a while gave Chub an eerie feeling that something was amiss.
“Big Chub, we finally meet!” Real said to him.
Real startled Big Chub, who had fear written all over his face when he saw his biggest enemy, Real. When he saw the two Glocks in Real’s hands, he shit himself.
“One time. I need a name. Who killed my brother?” Real asked.
Big Chub briefly laughed at Real and then looked into his eyes.
“I killed yo’ brother, nigga!”
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Before Big Chub could finish, Real emptied two clips into him, leaving him lifeless. As the restaurant went wild, Real made his escape with no problem. He was determined to kill every man in the Haitian mafia if he had to for his brother Shamoney.