Fourteen

Jasmine was sitting at home on the computer bored as hell and going absolutely stir crazy at her mother’s house, where she had been for a full seventy-two hours since leaving the hospital. Other than leaving the house to discreetly meet with Agent Gosling and Agent Battle at a local restaurant to finalize her plans to cooperate, she had been confined to her parents’ house. Although she had agreed to help the feds get incriminating information on Nico, she was having second thoughts about her decision. She never told them that she had met with him briefly on the day she was released from the hospital.

Jasmine was supposed to be gathering information on Nico, but she was just genuinely afraid to venture out of her parents’ house, worried that Bebo would learn of her whereabouts and come and finish her off. And she definitely didn’t want to go back and stay at Nico’s house until she heard from him again and knew that he would be staying at the house with her. So, she decided to just stay her ass put.

As soon as Jasmine logged on to Facebook, her cell phone started ringing, and she got a bunch of text messages. Everybody wanted to know if she had heard what happened to Bebo. Initially Jasmine thought that everyone was referring to her and Narjara being shot by Bebo, but that just didn’t make sense to her, since that was now old news. She called back her friend Simone, who asked her if she had seen the news.

Jasmine immediately turned on the four o’clock newscast and started watching the story about Bebo being shot multiple times at the USA Diner in Rosedale, Queens.

“It was crazy!” one eyewitness said to a news reporter. “I was just about to get out of my car with my girl and walk into the diner, and the next thing I know, I see a dude running toward the diner firing his gun, so I just took cover. It was multiple shots, like pop, pop, pop, pop, one after the other. I immediately grabbed my girl and pushed her to the ground and laid on top of her. I just couldn’t believe it. And then as soon as the shots stopped, they started again. It was almost like the shots wouldn’t stop.”

“Did you get a look at the gunman?” the reporter asked.

“Nah, things just happened too fast, and we hit the ground. From what I hear, people are saying it was two gunmen. I believe it, because there were just so many shots. I mean, it definitely reminded me of something from the Mafia. Whoever they were after, they were definitely trying to take him out. There’s no doubt about that. John Gotti, rest his soul, would have been proud. You feel me?”

The reporter seemed a little surprised by the eyewitness’ rhetorical question and his reference to John Gotti, but before she ended her report, she couldn’t help but allude to the irony in the eyewitness’ comment.

“References to mobsters might not be too far off, as we are learning that the victim of the shooting is allegedly the kingpin of a drug organization known as Ghetto Mafia. In Rosedale, Queens, I’m Sandra Livingston. Now back to you.”

Jasmine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She changed the channel and saw another station reporting on the same story. All she could wonder was if Bebo was dead. After watching the story on a different news channel, she was able to confirm that he had in fact died at the scene of the crime.

Jasmine continued to watch and she saw how the police had roped off USA Diner with yellow crime scene tape. She also was able to see Bebo’s body lying on the lobby floor of the diner covered with a white sheet and.

Upon seeing that, Jasmine felt instant euphoria. She felt like she could have her life back and walk around in peace without having to look over her shoulder in fear of Bebo. She knew her man had made good on his promise. Jasmine loved a strong man, and she especially loved a man who could protect her. Nothing was a bigger turn-on to her than a man who would kill for her. She couldn’t wait to fuck his brains out for doing only what a king would do for his queen. After all, she was wifey.

***

The FBI had given Jasmine a special BlackBerry phone that was almost impossible to be hacked into, and it had an FBI-approved app installed on it to track all of her movements via GPS technology. The phone was also going to be the FBI’s primary way of contacting her, and she could use it to record incriminating conversations so she wouldn’t have to wear a wire.

Jasmine saw that Agent Gosling was calling her phone, but she ignored him as she browsed for a new outfit in the mall, since she and Simone were planning on hanging out later that night.

Finally, at ten minutes past one in the afternoon Jasmine, dressed in a pair of black leggings, open-toe sandals, and a pair of Gucci shades, arrived at Dallas BBQ for her twelve-noon meeting. She tilted her shades slightly so she could see inside the dimly lit restaurant.

“Table for one?” the hostess asked her.

Jasmine gave the hostess a stank look. She scanned the restaurant until she spotted Gosling sitting at the bar. She sauntered up to him carrying two bags from Macy’s.

“What did you have?” Jasmine asked after seeing the plate of eaten food in front of him. She could see the fury in Agent Gosling’s eyes. His look reminded her of the way her father used to scold her without words by simply giving her a stern look of death.

Agent Gosling got up from the bar and made his way over to a booth table he had been sitting at, about five feet away from the bar area.

Jasmine followed behind him, and the two of them sat down. Agent Gosling still had that stern look in his eyes and hadn’t said anything to her at that point, not even hello.

After picking up the menu to look at what she was going to order, Jasmine finally heard words come out of Agent Gosling’s mouth.

“Put the menu down.”

Jasmine immediately complied.

“Did I not tell you noon?”

Jasmine knew what time the meeting was scheduled for, but she said, “Twelve? I thought we were supposed to meet at one.”

Agent Gosling stared at her. “Jasmine, our meeting was for twelve, and you have the audacity to walk in here almost an hour and a half late? Let me be clear on something—I’m not one of your friends in the street that you can just blow off with your disrespectful attitude. You pull some shit like this again, and I’ll lock you up on the spot. Are we clear?”

“But—”

“Jasmine, are we clear? There is going to be no do-overs.”

“Yes, we’re clear.”

“And when I call you, I expect for you to call me back within a reasonable amount of time.”

Jasmine was about to lie and play it off like she hadn’t realized he had called her, but she could sense that Agent Gosling meant business and wasn’t going to tolerate any of her bullshit.

“Okay, I will,” she replied.

Agent Gosling nodded as he looked at her.

“I apologize,” she said humbly.

Jasmine hated to be punked, but she knew she had to toe the line if she wanted to get all of the benefits of being a confidential informant. Even though Bebo was now dead and she could return to Nico’s estate and feel reasonably safe, she still wanted to get her free living situation, courtesy of the FBI, squared away.

At that point a waitress came to the booth and asked if they were ready to order. Jasmine looked at Agent Gosling, and he slightly nodded, giving his approval. Jasmine just ordered French fries and a coco-loco. Agent Gosling didn’t order anything because he had eaten while he waited for Jasmine to arrive.

“You could have ordered more to eat,” he said.

Jasmine shook her head and explained that she didn’t like eating food that was messy, like barbecue ribs and things like that.

“What’s a coco-loco?”

“I’ll let you drink some when it gets here,” she replied. “Is Agent Battle coming?”

“No, she isn’t coming. Remember, Agent Battle is the case agent, and I’m your handler.”

Jasmine nodded as she reached into the basket of warm complimentary cornbread. She took out a piece and began munching on it.

“So how have things gone the past couple of days with Nico since you’ve been home from the hospital?”

At that point Jasmine’s French fries and drink arrived. She immediately sipped on her drink, no longer caring that she had told Gosling that she would let him try some.

“Things went well. Don’t worry, I’ll get you the info you need. There’s a way I have to operate and talk around Nico so he won’t get suspicious.”

Agent Gosling nodded and, without asking for permission, took hold of Jasmine’s drink and sipped some of it. Jasmine felt like a bull that’d seen red. She wanted to reach across that table and slap him for putting his lips on her drink. She had already told him that she would let him have some of her drink, but she was planning on pouring him some in a separate glass. Jasmine was definitely going to order another drink and give him the one he had just put his backwash in.

“But you have hung out with him since you’ve been home?”

Jasmine knew about the GPS feature on the BlackBerry, so she knew she couldn’t lie but so much.

“We didn’t hang out, like go out anywhere, but I did see him. He came by my mother’s house to check on me.”

Gosling nodded his head. “When did you last see Nico?”

“Yesterday I saw him. I’ve seen him pretty much every day since I came home from the hospital.”

“So what is he saying about the Bebo murder that I’m sure you’re aware of?”

Jasmine smiled and ate one of her French fries. “See, you have to understand—The streets isn’t a game of show and tell, where little Johnny comes to school every day and just starts opening up about what the fuck him and his friends did the day before.” Jasmine paused. “What I’m saying is, I can’t just start asking, ‘So, Nico, did you kill Bebo?’ I have to bring things up in the natural course. But, don’t worry, I’ll get you your info.”

“So you’ve seen him every day since being discharged from the hospital?”

Jasmine nodded.

Agent Gosling cut his eyes at Jasmine the same way he had done when she had first come into the restaurant late for their meeting.

“What?” Jasmine nervously took another bite from her cornbread.

Agent Gosling reached into a dark brown folder and he took out four glossy photos and handed them to her.

“That one right there, that’s Mia meeting Nico at the airport in Las Vegas,” Agent Gosling said. “And that one right there, that’s Mia and Nico having dinner together, also in Las Vegas. And this one, this is Mia and Nico shopping together in Las Vegas. And if you’ll notice, each day they have on different outfits, and you’ll also notice the date and the time on each photo.”

Jasmine could feel sweat forming on her brow. She was beyond embarrassed for being busted in a lie, and at the same time she was also heated with Nico.

“Those dates, Jasmine, they cover the past few days right after Bebo’s murder, and you just told me that you saw Nico every day at your mother’s house. Kind of hard to do that if your mom lives in Queens and Nico is thousands of miles away.”

Jasmine knew there was absolutely nothing she could say.

“Let me explain something, Jasmine. I want to go home alive every night. So therefore I have to be able to trust you, and your lies could get me killed out here. So if I wasn’t clear a few minutes earlier, let me be perfectly clear now—If you lie to me one more time—No, as a matter of fact, if I even suspect that you’re lying to me, I am locking your ass up, and you’ll be doing twenty-five years in a federal pen somewhere out in South Dakota with a bunch of lesbian white butches. Is that understood?”

“Yes, it’s understood,” Jasmine humbly replied.

“So are you getting the picture about how we need you to operate and cooperate with us? No lies. You do as you’re told, and you get us the information that we need. You help us, and we help you.”

Jasmine nodded her head, tired of being chastised. She was ready to move on and get the meeting over with so she could figure out how she was going to deal with Mia.

“Now we need to discuss what’s going on, and we need to formulate an action plan.”

“Okay,” Jasmine replied. At that point Jasmine’s French fries were cold, the cornbread was cold, and she no longer wanted anything to drink. What she wanted at that moment was some high-grade weed to smoke.

“Before I speak about Nico, we both know that Bebo was murdered two days ago.” Gosling paused and waited for Jasmine to speak. “Are we on the same page?”

“Mmm-hmm. Yeah, I obviously heard about Bebo. We mentioned this already,” Jasmine replied, not knowing exactly what Gosling wanted to hear.

“So what are your thoughts on it?”

“I don’t know,” she replied with a nonchalant attitude.

Gosling gave her that stern look again.

“Look, you seem to forget that my hand is going to take another week or so to fully heal, and as you can see, my neck is not fully healed yet either. So it’s not like I’m just out and about running the streets. I withdrew from school, and I wanted to take a little time to just heal physically and emotionally, and it’s like you don’t seem to realize that. All you seem concerned about is just doing your job.”

Agent Gosling knew that Jasmine had a point, but he didn’t care. He went back into his folder and pulled out more photos—three to be exact.

“Do you know any of these guys?”

Jasmine examined the photos closely. “I know him,” she said, pointing to the photo on the right. “I mean, I don’t know him like we’re super cool or anything like that, but I do know him, and he knows me. His name is Black Justice. He hustles uptown, either in Harlem or the Bronx or Yonkers, somewhere in those areas. And these two, I don’t know them, but I think I’ve seen them before at some of the spots around the city; they look familiar.”

Jasmine wasn’t that interested or enthused. All she could think about was if Nico was fucking Mia again. With the two of them out in Las Vegas, she knew there was no way Nico wasn’t fucking her. Jasmine just couldn’t understand what it was that Mia had over her, nor could she understand why Nico hadn’t asked her to fly out to Las Vegas with him.

“That’s right. That’s Black Justice, more commonly known as Black Jus. Now this guy right here is named Homicide. And this guy right here goes by the name of Prince. He’s new on the New York drug scene. He was only a ‘poo-butt’ out in California, but he felt like he could be a shot-caller out here in New York, and that’s why he’s out here. He’s a Crip from California with an army of New York Crips who’ll murder on his orders.”

“Poo-butt?” She shook her head and chuckled. “Them dudes from California kill me with their slang.”

Agent Gosling was glad that Jasmine was showing signs of life, so he kept on. “Well, with the murder of Bebo, and with Nico’s strength weakening, we think that—”

“What do you mean, ‘with Nico’s strength weakening’?”

“From our intel, and from some of our other sources, we gathered that in Ghetto Mafia, Nico is the businessman and Bebo was the killer. With Bebo’s death, we feel Nico’s strength is going to be tested—other crews throughout the city are going to muscle in on Ghetto Mafia’s territory.”

Jasmine listened intently. She wanted to let Gosling know that Nico had the heart to murder anyone, but she thought it best to keep her mouth shut and just listen.

“So what we’re going to need you to do is get us close to these three guys right here. These three dudes are going to try to fill the vacuum. What we don’t want is to get Nico off the street, only to have new menaces to worry about.”

Jasmine nodded.

“What we would want you to do initially is act as a cut-out for me.”

“What do you mean?” Jasmine asked.

“We would need you to make recorded drug buys on my behalf. You’ll let them know that it’s on my behalf, and after a few buys we’ll ramp up the weight of the buys. At that point, the trust should be there where you’ll be able to introduce me, and then from that point on, I’ll handle my own transactions directly with them, which will allow us to make arrests.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool and all. I can do it. But the thing is, I’ll definitely need a place to live, and I need some money.”

Agent Gosling went into his folder and handed Jasmine a bankcard. “I’m already ahead of you. There’s twenty-five hundred on that card. I’ll call you later and give you the pin number.”

Seeing the shiny, new bankcard with a Visa logo put her in a brighter mood. She quickly took hold of the card and slipped it into her bag.

“Twenty-five hundred will be your monthly stipend. If you need more than that, you’ll have to let me know, and I’ll need to put in a request to the suits in Washington D.C.”

Gosling was speaking Jasmine’s language, and she loved it. Twenty-five hundred a month, and she didn’t have to open up her legs and fuck anybody.

“And let me just be completely frank with you about something . . . ”

Just then as soon as Gosling said that, the waitress came to the table and asked if she could get them anything else.

Jasmine was feeling much better after getting the bankcard, so she immediately asked for another coco-loco.

“And for you, sir?”

“I’m fine. Thanks,” Gosling replied to the waitress just before she walked away.

“Now, like I was saying, I need you to really hear me on this.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“Whether it’s Black Just, Homicide, or Prince, or for that matter, anyone else we’re targeting, you cannot fuck them under any circumstances. Do you understand me?”

“Not even Nico?”

“No, with Nico that’s different because you were involved with him sexually before you started cooperating. But with any of the other targets, if you sleep with them, it will be tough to get a conviction because any lawyer would scream entrapment.”

“That won’t be a problem because it’s not like I just go around opening up my legs to any and every nigga in the hood.”

Agent Gosling just gave her a look, and she immediately knew that Gosling was more than likely aware of her prostituting herself on Craigslist in the past.

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”

Agent Gosling’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take the call.

While Gosling was talking on his cell phone, Jasmine just couldn’t help herself. She took out her phone and sent Mia a one-word text message: Bitch! She waited for a reply from Mia but didn’t get one.

“Sorry about that,” Agent Gosling said. “Okay, so now listen. When you get home, what you need to do is use the bankcard to book the next flight to Las Vegas.”

Jasmine looked confused.

“Jasmine, this isn’t a free lunch. You need to get out to Vegas and smooth things over with Nico because, at the end of the day, if he doesn’t trust you, and if he moves on to Mia and leaves you behind without access to him, then what secrets will he ever spill to you? And if Nico doesn’t spill secrets to you, then the government really doesn’t need your cooperation, and we would have no choice but to lock you up for murder.”

“Ugghhh!” Jasmine was tired of Gosling always throwing the possibility of jail in her face. It was frustrating to her because she knew no one had seen her actually murder her ex-boyfriend Shabazz. She felt in her heart that they didn’t have the goods on her for that murder, but yet they were always hanging it over her head.

“Why do you keep saying that? That shit is so annoying. Just do me a favor and please stop hanging shit over my head. It’s not like it’s helping anything when you say that you’ll lock me up.”

Jasmine was also pissed off that she was going to have to dip into her twenty-five hundred dollars to purchase the plane ticket.

Gosling was about to reply, but Jasmine cut him off, saying, “And when will I get the apartment or the house that you promised me?”

“By the time you’re back, we’ll have an apartment for you.”

“All right,” Jasmine replied. “Where are Nico and Mia staying in Vegas?”

He told her and they ended their meeting. Agent Gosling felt good about the plan he had set in motion. Jasmine would do her best, but she didn’t know how she was going to be able to hold back from whipping Mia’s ass when she saw her. Her only hope was that it wouldn’t derail her new career as a confidential informant.