Chapter 6

“Yo, you should have let me body that bitch, Cross. She been in that fuckin’ building for over an hour wit’ that nigga,” Edge exclaimed.

Cross thought about it, and every inch of his body ached with rage and vengeance. He wanted to run across the street and put a bullet in Kola’s head and just watch her bleed out on the street. He clutched a loaded 9 mm in his hand as he glared at Kola getting into her car with a big smile, looking like she’d just gotten dicked down. Cross’ imagination went wild about the freak-nasty shit that Eduardo was doing to his girl to have her smiling so hard.

“I’ma get at that bitch later. I thought we were focused on gettin’ this money,” Cross reminded Edge.

Edge nodded in agreement.

As they watched Kola pull off, the two noticed a dark Tahoe come to a stop beside them.

The driver’s window came rolling down and the driver stared at Cross. “What’s good?” the driver spoke.

“Just park and get out,” Cross said.

The driver nodded. He was clad in all black and wore dark shades. He was with two men seated in the Tahoe, part of Cross’ deadly Harlem crew, and each one of them had the same deadly mentality—They were ready to kill for the wealth. They had arrived just in time and were heavily armed with submachine guns concealed under camouflage raincoats.

Cross and Edge stepped out of the Impala. It started to rain and the sky crackled with loud thunder, leaving the Jersey City street free and clear of any pedestrians or witnesses. They cautiously made their way toward the building—a five-man team ready to provoke war with a deadly kingpin.

The doorman stood behind the giant oak counter near the front entrance. His attention was on a People magazine and sipping on a bottle of water. It was a quiet evening, and with the rain and thunder pouring outside, the residents decided to stay indoors. He turned the pages and then looked up to see a hooded black male abruptly entering into the lobby wearing an army camouflage raincoat. He walked by the doorman without saying a word or giving him any acknowledgment.

“Excuse me, sir, you just can’t go up there. I need to announce you. Who are you here to see?” the doorman spat quickly.

“Fuck you!” the boy exclaimed.

“If you don’t comply with the rules and regulations of this building, I’ll call the cops.”

Before he could reach and pick up the phone, four more men swiftly burst into the lobby and rapidly attacked him, punching him in the face, knocking him down, and holding him at gunpoint.

“Don’t fuckin’ move, muthafucka!” one of his attackers exclaimed, masked up, a .50-cal. Desert Eagle trained at the man’s head.

The doorman lay on the floor, wide-eyed and terrified, surrounded by five masked men.

“I swear to god, if you fuckin’ move one damn inch and don’t listen, ya fuckin’ brains is gonna decorate this lobby floor. You fuckin’ understand me?”

He nodded nervously.

The alpha male of the pack spoke. He crouched down near the man, roughed him up by pulling at his suit jacket and smacking him around violently, and then said, “This is easy for you. I want you to get on that phone, call up the top floor and say to them, Kola’s coming back up. She needs to speak to Eduardo about something.”

The doorman looked reluctant to comply.

“You understand?”

“They’ll kill me.”

“Nigga, you think we ain’t, if you don’t do what we say? Nigga, get ya ass on that phone and make the call.” Cross clutched the doorman by his collar jacket tightly, pulling him up harshly and pushing him toward the counter. He pressed the gun to his head and cocked back the pistol. “I’ma count to five. One . . . two . . . three—”

“OK!”

“Do it now!”

The doorman slowly picked up the phone and pushed a button that directly connected to the top floor. His call was quickly answered. Cross and his goons listened in closely. The doorman swallowed hard.

“She’s coming back up, Kola . . . . OK, very well.”

He hung up. Cross nodded and smiled. “You did good.”

Cross then looked at his goons and asked, “Y’all ready to do this?”

“Nigga, we ready! I’m hungry, nigga,” one young boy replied eagerly.

Cross nodded to one of his young goons and said, “You stay and watch him. He moves wrong, you know what to do.”

The boy nodded.

Cross, Edge, and the other two shooters approached the elevator. They knew that they had the element of surprise—especially with no cameras. They stepped into the lift and pushed for the penthouse floor. The men were slightly caught off guard as they were shot up toward the sky. Silencers were placed onto the barrels of the guns, which were cocked back, ready and loaded to cause havoc.

They approached the top floor instantly, and the bell chimed and the doors began to open. Eduardo’s men weren’t on high alert, thinking that it was Kola coming back to see Eduardo about something. They sat back relaxed, with only one of them moving toward the elevator to greet her.

Sandro moved closer and caught the shock of his life. Four masked gunmen rushed out onto the floor and began firing, with the silencers suppressing the gunshots.

Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot! Poot!

Sandro caught three slugs directly into his chest, and got pushed back, falling dead. The other two scrambled to react.

Cross didn’t want the sound of gunshots to alert Eduardo and his other men. But before they got to mow down all three guards, one of them was lucky enough to squeeze off a few rounds from the Uzi he carried, alerting whoever was waiting behind the door.

The hallway erupted with chaotic gunfire, and the last guard caught a bullet to his head, pushing him violently back into the door with a loud thud.

Cross knew he had lost the element of surprise. “Go! Go! Go!” he shouted.

Edge and the others quickly rushed for the door and tried to kick it in, and then a shotgun blast took the door completely off the hinges. The four masked men rushed into the room blazing, gunfire erupting between both camps in the posh-looking room.

Eduardo was startled by the sound of gunfire. His right-hand security, Andrea, rushed into the room screaming, “We’re being hit!”

Eduardo scrambled to get his gun and some other belongings, while Andrea was posted by the door keeping a watchful eye out with a .50-cal. clutched tightly in his hands. Eduardo hurriedly got dressed. “Who got balls to come at me?” he shouted.

Andrea pushed his boss into the next room, while the intense gunfire scattered all about. Men were heard screaming and it sounded like a small war in the next room.

Cross and his goons had killed three of Eduardo’s men who’d tried holding down the fort. Now their bloody, bullet-riddled bodies lay sprawled across the gleaming black-and-white marble floors.

“Let’s do these niggas and get this fuckin’ money,” one thug shouted.

The men ran amok across the penthouse floor, shooting their weapons off and destroying priceless artifacts. “Find Eduardo,” Cross shouted.

Eduardo and Andrea raced to the next room that had a secret doorway leading into an adjacent apartment room and toward an escape route. Eduardo clutched a heavy duffel bag, his bodyguard following right behind him. But as they turned the corner, just a few feet from the room, they were met with heavy gunfire.

Tat! Tat! Tat! Tat! Tat! Tat!

“They right here, son! They over here!” a young thug shouted.

Cross ran up, and more gunfire was exchanged between Andrea and Cross and his goons. The hallway lit up like a Christmas tree. Cross was relentless.

Edge returned fire with the submachine gun gripped in his hand. The deadly tool let loose a barrage of bullets like a firehouse hose. The walls were coming apart with bullets.

“Go, Eduardo, go!” Andrea shouted, pushing Eduardo forcefully into the adjacent room and covering him with gunfire from his .50-cal.

Eduardo kept his head low and sprinted across the hall and dove into the next room. He looked back for Andrea, but his right-hand guard was pinned down by heavy gunfire.

Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Cross and his goons moved in closer, pushing Andrea back. He was outnumbered and outgunned. The rage in the men’s eyes was evident that they came to kill and take.

Andrea tried to hold them off as long as he could, giving his boss ample time to make his escape. He glanced back and saw Eduardo gone. His only job was to protect Eduardo. He nodded. Andrea rushed from behind the wall that he was taking cover and quickly fired a stream of shots at his assailants. They fell back, giving Andrea a split second to make his escape behind Eduardo. He rushed for the room feeling and hearing the bullets whiz by his ear. They missed him my mere inches. When he ran into the room, he right away shut the door and reloaded his weapon.

Eduardo had pushed a mechanism that opened into a downward, short tunnel. He tossed the duffel bag back into the tunnel, removed a pistol, and yelled to Andrea, “Let’s go!”

Andrea nodded. He was locked and loaded again. Eduardo had made his escape through the tunnel. Andrea had one foot in and one foot out.

The door came crashing open, and the gunfire erupted again. Andrea quickly fired back, but before he could make it all the way inside, he was shot, catching a slug in his lower abdomen. He went berserk, shooting erratically and fell backwards into the escape route, with the door closing tight behind him.

“Fuck!” Cross shouted.

Once the doorway to the escape route had shut, Cross and his men didn’t know how to re-open it. He was fuming.

“Fuck them!” Edge shouted. “Let’s get this money.”

The team quickly ransacked the penthouse, taking whatever they could before the police showed up. They took money and drugs, and quickly made their exit, via elevator. Once they hit the lobby floor again, the men ran out with their guns exposed.

The young boy left behind to watch the doorman was smiling. “What y’all got?” he asked.

“We out!”

But before they made their complete exit, Edge glared at the doorman. He pushed the man to the floor and pumped four shots into his chest and stomach. “Now we out!” he said.

They bolted from the building and ran to their vehicles. The rain and thunder was still coming down, giving less visibility of Cross and his goons to any witnesses that happened to be around. Cross knew that they’d made off like bandits. It was the heist of all heists for them.

****

Eduardo made his escape via the service elevator on the other side of the building and rushed out the back door carrying the duffel bag. Andrea was seriously wounded. He grasped his gunshot wound and stumbled behind Eduardo toward a parked SUV. He barely could hold onto his gun. Andrea collapsed into the backseat, bleeding profusely.

Eduardo got behind the wheel and started the ignition. “I’m going to get you to a hospital. Just hold on, Andrea. Hold on,” Eduardo shouted.

Eduardo was fuming. He began wondering how his place was easily penetrated. What the fuck happened? he thought. He raced out of the alleyway and headed for the nearest hospital.

Eduardo halted the SUV in front of Christ Hospital. He jumped out and ran toward the emergency room screaming out, “My friend’s been shot!”

The staff immediately came rushing out pushing a gurney toward the truck. They speedily removed Eduardo’s bodyguard from the backseat and placed him onto the gurney and rushed him inside.

Eduardo didn’t follow. He stood outside the hospital with a scowl on his face. He was upset. His mind was spinning with revenge. He wouldn’t rest until he found out who was responsible for the invasion.

One emergency staff member lingered behind and wanted to ask Eduardo some questions. But Eduardo didn’t have time to answer silly questions about his business. He pulled out wads of hundred-dollar bills and subtly gave the man five thousand dollars in cash.

The man was shocked. “Sir, I don’t understand.”

“My business is hush. You just make sure he doesn’t die in your hospital,” Eduardo explained to him coolly.

The man was still shocked. He gripped the cash in his hand with a bewildered look. “I’m not a doctor.”

“Find him and make sure he lives!” Eduardo said and then walked away.

He got back into the truck and sped away. When he was a good distance from the hospital, it finally came to him. Eduardo uttered, “That fuckin’ bitch!”

Eduardo was parked by the waters overlooking downtown Manhattan and puffing on a cigar. His operation in Jersey City had been breached, and he wasn’t too happy about it. He pulled out his cell phone and decided to make an urgent call.

On the other end, Kola picked up. “Hey,” she answered excitedly. “What’s this about, Eduardo? You miss me?”

“You’re a dead bitch!” he spat and then hung up abruptly, leaving Kola stunned.