Chapter 10

Dope Fiend

“He looks like he’s a good candidate. Right?” Zya asked as she stared at the man walking to his car with an ugly pilot’s hat on his head.

“Nah, he walks like he’s got a stick up his ass. He’s probably never done anything wrong his entire life. What about that ugly cat right there?” Snow asked as he pointed across the airport’s parking garage at a chubby man who was also wearing a pilot’s hat.

“Not him either,” Zya said, shaking her head.

They had been sitting in the airport’s staff garage for over an hour, trying to find the right pilot to approach. Zya was growing skeptical about their recruiting tactics and began to second guess approaching a total stranger with their illegal proposition.

What if we ask the wrong person and he runs to the authorities? Then the whole transaction would be ruined, Zya thought as she watched a group of pilots exiting.

“First shift must be leaving now,” Snow said as he looked at his watch then back at the group of men leaving. One pilot came out, lagging behind, and caught their attention. He snatched the corny pilot’s hat off of his head as soon he stepped out of the door, and lit a Newport cigarette. He had his pilot shirt’s first two buttons undone, revealing his gold chain and chest hair. He had a certain swagger as he walked, like he came straight off a Sopranos episode. He looked kind of cheesy, but he was just what they were looking for. When he thought no one was looking, he took a leak on the side of a car.

“That’s our guy!” they both said simultaneously.

Snow hopped out of the car and waited until the man passed the car, and began to follow him. The man was so busy trying to shake the piss off of his shoe, he didn’t even notice Snow sneak up right behind him. Snow pulled out his pistol from his waistline and stuck it to the back of the man’s neck.

“If you don’t want me to blow yo’ fuckin brains out, cooperate,” Snow whispered as he directed the pilot to his car. Zya had the door already open, so Snow shoved him inside. Snow hopped in the front seat and looked at the nervous man sitting there terrified.

“Here, take all of my money,” he said as he tossed his wallet into the front seat. Snow caught the wallet and threw it right back at him, hitting him in the face.

Zya began to speak. “We don’t want to take your money. We want to give you ours.”

The man grew a confused look on his face and murmured, “Huh?”

“We have a proposition for you. We need something transported from Cuba back to the States.”

The man threw both of his hands in the air and began to sweat profusely. “I don’t know what kind of game you guys are—”

“Shut that bullshit up. You like money, right?” Snow asked.

The man hesitated before answering, “Well, yeah. Who doesn’t?”

Snow nodded his head and said, “That is what this is all about.”

He tossed the man a stack of money from his glove compartment and continued to attempt to persuade the man. “That’s twenty-five grand. We have another fifty for you after you transport the goods for us. We have the jet already. You just have to fly the mu’fucka.”

The man caught the money, and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw all of the hundred- and fifty-dollar bills. He stuttered before beginning to talk. “I-I don’t know about this.”

“Well, give us back the money,” Zya said as she reached for the stack in his hand.

The man threw his free hand up and said, “Now, hold a minute.” He looked at the money and flipped through the bills once again. “You say I’ll get fifty more on my return?”

Zya and Snow looked at each other and smiled. They knew they had just acquired the pilot they needed for the job.

“Here is how you can contact one of us directly. Both of our numbers are programmed on speed dial,” Snow said as he tossed a cell phone into the pilot’s lap. The pilot put the money and cell phone in his briefcase and hurried out of the car. Zya took a deep breath then exhaled.

“I hope he calls back. We really need him on our team right now. If we can’t find a pilot, the deal is bust, and we gon’ lose out on a half-mil.”

“He’ll call,” Snow said confidently as he started the car.

“What makes you so sure of that?” Zya said with uncertainty.

“Did you see his face light up when we dropped that cash in his lap? I knew he was game as soon as he got that look in his eyes. Shit, everyone has a price.”

“I hope you are right. Now we just have to sit back and wait on him,” Zya said as she put on her designer sunglasses and leaned back in her chair. Snow pulled out of the parking garage and headed back to Zya’s spot in Harlem.

Vita smacked her arm frantically with two fingers, desperately searching for a vein. The dope house that she sat in was dim and musty. She was surrounded by all kinds of drug users and junkies, but they all had one common goal: everyone was searching for a high. Vita had just turned a trick with one of the dealers in the back of the dope house to pay for her fix. She still hadn’t lost her ass yet, and the drug dealers took advantage of it by exchanging sexual favors for product. She was a hot commodity in the dope houses she lurked in.

Vita injected the heroin-filled syringe into her vein and felt the drug work its magic. The warm sensation slowly crept up her vein, and she closed her eyes as she entered her momentary paradise. Vita’s eyes began to water, and a slight smile formed on her face. Vita’s addiction had grown stronger and stronger as the days passed. She eventually found out that Heavy had been giving her heroin rather than coke, but by that time, it was too late. She had already become addicted. After snorting heroin didn’t get her high anymore, she switched to shooting up, because she knew that she would feel the full potency of the drug. She got a better high through the needle.

After she helped Heavy set up Zya, she hadn’t heard from him. With no money and Heavy not there to supply her with her drug habit, she did anything for a fix. She would suck or fuck whoever, just to get the monkey off of her back. What once was a beautiful young lady was now a pitiful dope-head with a bad addiction.

Vita thought every day about how she had betrayed Zya, and she regretted it. She had crossed her best friend just to get a high and some money. The fucked up part about it was she didn’t even get anything out of the caper. Heavy manipulated her into giving him the information he needed to rob her best friend, and then after he used her, he split. Now Vita had no one. She had no family, no man, and she had lost Zya, the closest person to her.

Vita sat in the corner with her legs wide open, exposing her vagina to whoever wanted to see it. She had been wearing the same skirt for days, and she smelled badly. She was so high, she didn’t care. She just sat there and enjoyed the incredible feeling. That’s why she didn’t notice who crept up on her and gave her a rude awakening.

Zya sat at her dining table and stared at her phone, hoping that it would ring. It had been twenty-four hours since they had approached the pilot, and she had not received a call.

I knew that square-ass mu’fucka wasn’t going to call back. I can’t see how people are so scared to get money. No big risk, no big reward. People on Wall Street take bigger risks than this on the daily.

Just as she was about to give up on waiting, her cell phone rang. She looked down at the caller ID and she grew disappointed. It was only Black Ty.

“What the fuck does he want? I just sold him a couple of bricks two days ago. I know he ain’t ran through them that quick,” she said just before answering her phone.

“Hello?”

“Yo, Zya. Guess who I am looking at right now.”

“Who?”

“Vita. She over here at one of my dope houses on 140^th, knocked out in the corner. She looks bad, too.”

“The one I used to drop the bricks off at?”

“Yep.”

Zya felt her adrenaline begin to pump as soon as she heard Vita’s name. “Keep her there. I’m on my way.”

“I got you. You still got ten thousand on her head, right? You gon’ break me off—” But before Ty even finished his sentence, he heard a dial tone.

Zya flipped her phone down, grabbed her car keys, and bolted for the door. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on Vita. She was so focused on getting to the dope house before Vita got away, she left her pistol. She turned around before she got to the elevator and re-entered her place to grab her gun. Zya was more than ready to see Vita.

Zya pulled up to the house and parked her car two houses down from Black Ty’s spot. She grabbed her .22 out of her glove compartment and put it in the holster she kept on her ankle. Zya walked up to the door and knocked. Black Ty peeped out the hole and let Zya in.

Without even acknowledging Ty, she began to scan the room. She spotted Vita over in the corner in a nod. Zya wasn’t going to waste any time. She pulled out her gun and fired a round into the ceiling. All of the junkies began to scramble around, and didn’t know what was going on. Vita was so high, she didn’t even move. She just sat there, drooling from the lips.

“If you don’t wanna die, get the fuck out,” Zya yelled as she focused on Vita. Immediately, everyone ran out of the dope house, trying to avoid getting their lives taken. Black Ty went on the front porch, leaving her alone to handle her business.

Zya walked over to her former best friend and stood above her. Zya thought back on how they were once two peas in a pod. Now Zya was about to take her life. Zya grabbed Vita up by her hair, yanking her to her feet. Vita didn’t know what was going on. She tried to focus her eyes on the person that held her by the head, but before she could realize what was happening, she felt the cold steel of Zya’s gun go across her head. Vita fell to the ground, holding her bloody nose. Zya kicked her in the stomach with all her strength, remembering how Heavy put Snow in the hospital.

“Bitch!” Zya yelled as she kicked her in the stomach a second time. Zya circled around Vita, watching her suffer. The more Zya remembered how close they were, the more enraged she became.

“You dirty-ass bitch,” Zya said as she struck Vita in the back of the head with her gun. Zya dropped to one knee and grabbed the back of Vita’s hair. Zya pointed the gun right at Vita’s forehead and asked, “Why? Why did you set me up to get robbed? We were like sisters, Vita!” Zya yelled as tears began to form in her eyes.

Blood was all over Vita’s face, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She began to plead with Zya.

“Zy, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t me. It was the drugs, Zya. Them drugs got a hold on me. They got me, Zya. He said he was only going to break in and take the money. I didn’t know he was going to hurt you.”

“Shut up!” Zya yelled as she pulled back the hammer of her gun, preparing to take Vita’s life. But before she killed her, she had to find out if she knew where Heavy was. “Where is that fat mu’fucka? Where is he, Vita? Where is Heavy?” Zya screamed as she gripped Vita’s hair even tighter, almost pulling it right out of her scalp.

“I don’t know. He split on me right after it happened.”

Zya stood up and aimed the gun toward Vita’s head. Vita raised her hands in fear.

“Wait! Wait! He is having this thing at the Marriott on Saturday. I heard one of his boys talking about it when I went to get a fix yesterday. They are having some type of get-together. He didn’t even recognize me. He was on the phone talking big shit, about the private get-together and the stripper he hired for Heavy.”

Zya gripped her gun tightly and put her finger on the trigger. She looked into Vita’s eyes and didn’t see the same person she used to be close with. Vita’s eyes had no soul. She knew that the drugs were eating at her. Zya looked down at Vita’s arms and saw all of the marks where she had been shooting up, and felt sorry for her. Damn! I can’t do this, she thought. She still loved Vita, but she knew that she had to handle her business. If she didn’t kill her, Snow would when he found her. Zya closed her eyes and once again put her finger on the trigger, but she still couldn’t do it.

“Please, Zya, please don’t kill me,” Vita pleaded.

“I never want to see you again. You hear me? You better not be lying about Heavy, either, because if you are, I will find you. Look at you. You’re dying slowly anyway. You are not worth it,” Zya said as she released her grip on Vita. Zya stormed out of the house and saw Black Ty waiting on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

“I’m not cleaning that shit up. You better handle that, Zya,” Ty said as he puffed on the cigarette.

“She’s not dead. I’ll be sending over someone to give you your money for finding her,” Zya said as she walked off of the porch.

Black Ty eyes followed Zya’s ass as she strutted to her car. “Yo, Zya, when you gon’ give a nigga some play?” he asked.

Without even turning around, she yelled, “When yo’ ass can afford to cop more than two bricks a month. You can’t afford me.” She pushed her alarm and hopped in her car. With that comment, she belittled Black Ty, and he was so embarrassed, but he knew she was right. Zya put money in his pocket. How could he holla at his boss? That’s when he realized how big Zya had gotten, and her position—at the top of the game.

He just shook his head and re-opened shop. “That’s a boss bitch right there,” he said as she pulled off.

Zya called Snow as soon as she got in the car, letting him know that she knew how to get Heavy. She told him she killed Vita, only to spare her life and prevent Snow from going after her. She told him she would meet him at her spot. They had a birthday party to attend.

Heavy had a bottle of Cristal in each hand as he sat back and received a lap dance from a beautiful Puerto Rican stripper. “Move it, mami,” he said as he poured the champagne on her ass. He enjoyed his twenty-sixth birthday party with his crew. He wanted to throw a bash at a strip joint, but he had too many enemies to count. He didn’t want to get caught slipping, so the Marriott’s presidential suite became the private location. Three men were in the room with two strippers. The music was bumping loud, and everyone was having a good time. Heavy looked over at his friend, who was getting head from one of the strippers, and that instantly made him want to get in.

“Yo, what about the birthday boy?” Heavy asked as he got up and took a swig of the champagne.

One of Heavy’s henchmen stood up and announced, “Nah, nigga, we got something lined up for you. It should be here any minute now.” Just as he finished his sentence, they heard a knock at the door. Heavy quickly pulled out his pistol and grew paranoid. His boy motioned for Heavy to put his gun away, saying, “Chill out. Put the burner away. Damn, man, you never relax.”

Everyone began to laugh at Heavy’s paranoia, and even Heavy realized that he needed to relax and enjoy his birthday. He smiled and shook his head from side to side. He tossed his gun into one of the dresser drawers and focused on the door. One of Heavy’s friends opened the door and presented a gypsy belly dancer with a veil covering her face. She seductively danced while rolling the gigantic cake to the middle of the floor.

Heavy watched closely as the belly dancer seductively moved her body like a snake, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her ass. The dancer sexily pushed Heavy down into the chair and began her show. She turned her back toward him and lightly bounced on his crotch, arousing him.

All the men were talking shit and laughing at how Heavy was so into the lap dance. The belly dancer slowly began to take off her see-through blouse as she pranced around the room. The music was so loud that the only thing clearly heard was the ranting of men. Heavy took another swig of the bottle and watched the dancer’s snake-like movement.

The dancer made her way to the door, and Heavy yelled, “Where you going, baby girl? The party is over here,” he said as he pointed at himself. The last thing Heavy saw was the dancer’s hand move toward the light switch, and he grew excited.

“Hell yeah!” he said. He began to pull out his dick so that he could really get the party started. He continued, “Shit, turn the lights back on. I want to see that ass while I’m hitting it.” Heavy heard slurping noises all around the room, knowing his boys were getting head from the strippers. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was fully erect.

“Baby girl, where you at?” he asked. The lights came back on, and what he saw almost made him piss on himself. Snow was sticking halfway out of the cake, with two twin pistols pointing directly at him. He looked over at the belly dancer, and the veil was removed, exposing her face. It was Zya. She also had a gun pulled out.

The element of surprise made Heavy and his crew vulnerable. They didn’t reach for their weapons, in fear of getting shot. Heavy’s facial expression said a thousand words. He was totally caught off guard, with his dick in his hand.

Zya had a chrome handgun pointed at Heavy’s boys. Snow began to bark out instructions while waving his gun in the direction of the corner where Heavy was at. “Yo, y’all move over there in the corner. Y’all hoes get the fuck out if you want your life. If any of you call the police, I will find you and kill the people closest to you. After that, I’ll blast both of you.”

Zya started to pick up the women’s clothes, and she threw them toward the door, “Y’all heard what he said. Get the fuck out!” The women didn’t even grab their clothes off the ground. The two girls ran out butt naked while they still had their lives.

All of the men stood in the corner with their hands in front of them, hoping Snow and Zya didn’t pop off. Snow had his twin Desert Eagles pointed at the crew, while Zya searched them and took off all their pistols. Zya pulled her old gun off of one of the men and said, “This looks familiar. Where did you get it?” Before the man even answered, Zya struck him across the face with the gun. Zya returned to Snow’s side after letting out her frustration on the man.

Zya pointed her gun at Heavy and asked him, “Where is the money you took from me?”

“I don’t know,” Heavy replied with both of his hands up.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Zya walked over to the man standing next to Heavy and without hesitation, put a bullet through his skull, causing his blood to splatter on everybody. The man’s blood was all over Zya’s face, and it was the first time Zya had actually killed anyone. But it wasn’t like she expected. She didn’t feel bad. She was ready to put another bullet through someone else’s head.

She pressed the barrel of her gun to the next man’s head and looked at Heavy. “Where is my money?” she asked coldly.

Heavy was noticeably scared out of his mind, and his hands began to shake. “Yo, I don’t have it. It’s at one of my stash houses.”

Snow walked over to him, not believing a word that he was saying. He hit him in the mouth with the butt of the gun, and there was a loud crack as Heavy’s jawbone shattered.

“That’s what a broken jaw feels like,” Snow said as he hovered over Heavy’s body. “Where is the stash spot?” Snow asked. Snow wanted to kill Heavy right then and there, but he knew that he needed him alive to take Zya to her money.

The sound of Snow’s cell phone rang. He had programmed his phone to make a certain ring tone when the pilot called. It was him. Snow stepped back and answered his phone.

“Hello ... I’ll meet you at the parking garage tomorrow at five.” Snow hung up the phone and looked at Zya. “It’s done.”

“So, does that mean what I think it means?” Zya said as she slightly grinned.

Snow smiled back and nodded his head. Since the pilot agreed to fly the drugs overseas, they had a million dollars waiting for them in Cuba. The measly $100,000 that Heavy had stashed wasn’t important.

At that moment, Zya and Snow pointed their guns at Heavy at the same time. The loud shrill of Heavy’s voice echoed through the room just before they loaded his body up with bullets all at once. The bullets from their guns caused Heavy’s body to jerk from left to right, ripping his flesh one bullet at a time. Heavy lay there dead, with sixteen bullets lodged into his body.

The one man remaining was in shock. He just stood there twitching and staring at the dead bodies in front of him. Snow raised his gun and pointed over to the man, prepared to end his life too. Zya looked in the man’s eyes and saw pure fear. She didn’t feel the need to kill him, and wanted him to be the one to deliver a message to the streets: Don’t fuck with Zya Miller.

“Let him live,” Zya said as she began to walk away.

Snow knew it was a mistake, but he followed suit, and they both headed out of the door. Just as they reached the door, they heard movement. It was the man reaching for his gun and aiming it at them. Before the man could let off a single shot, Snow turned around with his gun in his palm and fired hollow tips through his body, reuniting him with his crew.

The next day, they met the pilot at the parking garage and made him follow them to the nearest hotel to plan the transport. Zya had paid for the room earlier that morning, so that there would be privacy and no distractions when going over the plan to move the dope. They entered the room, and the pilot began to give them his perception on how the transport should go. He had a whole different outlook on the situation than he did the last time they had met, and seemed way more comfortable. He had a couple days to think about the financial opportunity this job provided for him. The pilot had done his homework, and found the safest flight route to Havana, Cuba.

“All right, here is the shortest and safest path to Cuba. I will first fly to Miami and gas up at this private airplane strip my father owns. After I finish there, I will hit the air around four o’ clock, because that is the busiest part of the day for air patrol. On a daily basis, they have a lot of imports and exports from the port of Miami. I won’t log in my flight, so there will be no record of the flight. See, if I fly below air patrol radar, they won’t detect the plane,” the pilot explained as he scrolled his finger from Miami to Cuba.

The pilot looked at Zya and then at Snow, waiting for their approval. They were definitely impressed by the pilot’s groundwork, and knew that they had the right man for the job.

Zya leaned over to Snow and whispered in his ear, “I like him.” Snow shook his head in agreement, and then told the pilot he was hired. After going over all of the logistics, the rendezvous was over, and Zya and Snow shook the pilot’s hand as they prepared to leave.

That’s when Snow asked for insurance. “You say your name was Sam, right?” Snow said as he still held a firm grip with the man.

“Yeah, my friends call me Sammy.”

“Okay, Sammy, I will need a picture of your kids and your ID. If anything goes wrong on your part, your family will be receiving a visit from me personally.”

Sammy’s face went blank, and he was shocked at the remark, but he knew that they were only covering their own asses. He respected the game, and pulled out his wallet and gave Snow what he had asked for. Sammy exited the room, leaving Snow and Zya there alone.

“This time next week, we will be able to leave the game for good,” Snow said as he began to roll up the map.

“You’re right. We could leave this game alone. Can you leave the game for good, Snow?” she asked as she looked at his piercing gray eyes.

“I don’t know. Could you?”

“Nah, I don’t think I could. This is the only thing in my life I have ever been good at. I live to hustle. It’s like it’s the only way that I find satisfaction. It’s in me,” Zya answered.

“I guess Jules created a monster, huh?”

“No, Snow, he discovered one.”