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“I don’t know who this bitch ass nigga think he’s playin’ with,” Powerful growled after calling Haitian for what seemed like the hundredth time. It had been three weeks since he fronted Haitian two kilos of cocaine. He hadn’t heard from Haitian since he left his house, a clear violation. The last thing he was going to allow was Haitian to run off with his drugs.
Powerful was a man of action. He’d been getting his hands dirty his entire life, so his next move was a no brainer. He placed a few phone calls and within a half hour two of his most trusted goons were at his house, prepared to do whatever he asked of them. Powerful informed them about his situation as well as his plans. He armed each man with a gun. Just as quickly as they came, they were leaving out, piling into the luxurious interior of Powerful’s midnight-blue Mercedes GL 550.
The ride from Brooklyn to Syracuse took less than five hours. Powerful knew that Haitian lived and hustled on the west side of the city. He drove around and asked people in the hood if they knew him. It didn’t take long before he found out what Haitian had gotten himself into. Luckily, Terry didn’t go down with him. He also found out that Terry had a restaurant on South Avenue. The trio didn’t hesitate to make their way to his place of business.
Upon entering Impressions, they were greeted with a warm smile by Terry’s mother. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Would you like to dine in, or place an order to go?”
“Um, actually, I just came back in town and I was trying to get in touch with my old friend. His name is T-Lova,” Powerful explained.
“Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll get Terry on the phone for you under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That the three of you sit down and let me put some food in your stomachs. I can tell that ya’ll ain’t have no decent meal in a long time. You boys today think you can live off fast food, but you’re wrong...come on over here.” Without waiting for a reply she began walking towards the dining area.
Powerful and his men had little choice but to follow as she led them to a table. Once seated, they picked up menus.
“Now all of this food is freshly prepared, and it’s good for you,” Anita told them in her natural, motherly tone. “I’ma send a waitress over to take your order while I try to get Terry on the phone.” Again, she scurried off before anyone at the table was able to respond.
The three looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and began scanning their options. The waitress came with refreshments, they placed their orders, and within a relatively short amount of time they were served.
While they were enjoying their meals, Anita walked over holding her phone.
“I finally got a hold of Terry. I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell him who you were because I didn’t get your name.”
Powerful wiped his mouth with a napkin and accepted the phone. “Thank you,” was his only response. He then spoke into the phone, “Hello?”
“Wassup, who’s this?” Terry asked.
“This is Powerful, from Brooklyn.”
“Oh, what’s good?” He answered calmly, but deep down he wanted to know why in the hell was this dude in his restaurant looking for him.
“Not a whole lot, my man. Listen, I need to holla at you.”
“Aaight, I’ll be there within fifteen minutes.” Terry hung up and Powerful handed the phone back to Anita who was still standing there.
“How’s the food?” She couldn’t have cared less about their conversation.
“It’s great.”
“Much better than some damn McDonalds. You boys eat up, and you better leave a tip!”
“Alright.” They all shared a light chuckle.
Terry made it to the restaurant before they finished their meals. He walked directly over to the table, making eye contact with all three of the men. “What’s up?” he asked, unsure of which one was Powerful.
“Waddup, sun?” Powerful said, glaring at Terry. “We got a problem, my nigga.” He shoved a fork full of greens into his mouth. “You see...”
“Slow down, champ.” Terry stopped him from continuing. “This is my restaurant. Unless you got a problem with the food or the service, we need to talk outside.”
“Maybe you’re right. There’s no need to cause a scene in front of these good people.” Powerful stood up and his men followed suit.
Terry led the way out of the restaurant. Anita stood at her usual spot behind the checkout counter. “How was the meal?”
“It was good,” one of the men answered.
“Great. Now who’s paying?” Anita asked.
Powerful reached into his pocket and pulled out a knot of crispy bills. He peeled off a hundred dollar bill and gave it to her. Without waiting for change, they left.
Outside, Terry and Powerful, walked to the parking lot with his henchmen a few feet behind.
“I know you drove a long way to come see me, so what’s going on?” They stopped and faced each other.
“My problem is I haven’t heard from you niggas since I fronted ya’ll them two bricks.”
“Wait a minute, playboy. You ain’t front me nothin’. I don’t need you to front me shit. I buy what I want and that’s it.” He looked Powerful directly in the eyes while correcting him.
“Yeah? All that sounds good, after the fact. The bottom line is ya’ll bought four bricks and I fronted you two bricks. You niggas made me get on the highway for five hours. Either you gon’ get me my fifty-four stacks or I’ma blow ya fuckin’ face off!” Powerful roared. He slid his hand towards the left side of his waist where his 9 mm rested.
As soon as Powerful’s goons stepped up and appeared to be reaching for their weapons, the door to a Nissan Maxima flew open. Twan stepped out, pointing a hulking AR-15 at Powerful and his men. A few cars closer was a Honda Accord. Jihad jumped out aiming his Mac-90 at the men. Across from them, Boogs hopped out of his shiny red BMW X5 with a black .40 Glock in each hand held high and ready to fire. Twan, Jihad and Boogs slowly approached the men without taking their weapons off their targets. Terry removed his .45 keeping it by his side.
“Listen, gangsta,” Terry began in a low, even voice. “I don’t know if you thought it was sweet because we’re from Upstate New York, or because we was sending that lame ass nigga Haitian to cop for us, but if you tryin’ to go to war, then you picked the right niggas. Is that what you want?”
“Nah.” That answer was his only viable option.
“I’ll tell you what, despite me feeling very disrespected, I’m still gon’ take the diplomatic route. Leaving you niggas dead in this parking lot would bring a lot of heat on me, and it definitely ain’t gon’ get you your money. I don’t know if you know, but Haitian got knocked. He only had four ki’s with him. That means there’s two more ki’s somewhere. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this shit, and if your work comes up I’ll make sure you get it. You got my word.”
Powerful nodded his head, agreeing to Terry’s terms. “Aaight, I’ma take your word.” He slowly began to step backwards with his hands in the air.
His men did the same.
“One more thing,” Terry said. The men stopped moving. “Take out ya guns and put ‘em on the ground, slowly. Don’t trip, I know you got more where those came from.” Terry smiled.
They unenthusiastically did as they were told, got back into the Galendenwagon and headed back to Brooklyn...