Chapter Thirty-One
The police were able to contact Ladelle at the midtown restaurant where he worked. He was frantic when he found out what had happened to Lydia.
He ran out of the restaurant to the street to hail a cab. He couldn’t believe that Lydia was being held hostage in their apartment. Ladelle knew this was all connected to Petie and his Escalade getting trashed. He was going to cut Petie off for sure now. The shit had gone too far.
When Ladelle got uptown, the police weren’t letting anyone enter the building. He identified himself and was put in a van with the hostage negotiator. Janine was also in the van being comforted by crisis workers. She was a wreck over her baby girl, Janelle.
News vans were everywhere, and a crowd of eager reporters had their cameras rolling to get the breaking story.
The negotiator was asking Ladelle all kind of questions abut Lydia and their relationship as if he had something to do with the situation. This shit made him even madder than he already was. He told them that Lydia was pregnant and about what had happened to his truck, which he filed a report on. He also revealed what he knew about Kalif and that he might think he had something to do with his brother’s death a few years ago. Ladelle didn’t care that he was possibly giving the police something else to look into; he just wanted Lydia safely out of their apartment. The information helped the negotiator build a psychological profile on Kalif to go along with the arrest record he already had on him. He was very professional, and Ladelle felt that he was going to do his best to get Lydia out of this mess as quickly as possible.
Hours had passed, and the surrounding floors had been evacuated and security was tight. However, Kalif still hadn’t made any demands. The negotiator contacted him again and asked him what it was that he wanted.
”Get me some food and some icecream,” Kalif demanded.
”Okay. Whatever you want, we’ll get it. But you gotta understand that we can’t help you if any of the hostages are harmed. Do you understand that, Mr. Reynolds?” the negotiator asked Kalif.
”Oh, y’all muthafuckas know my name?” he said and then paused for a moment. ”Listen, I understand. You just make sure I get what I want and nobody will get hurt in here—ya heard?”
”I hear you. Now what exactly would you like for us to get you to eat?”
”Get me some beef and broccoli and some butter pecan icecream. And make sure it ain’t melted. I want a pack of Newport 100s and get me two phillies. You got that?” The negotiator repeated Kalif’s order and told him they would get it right away.
The Hostage Rescue Team had set up an ambush outside for Kalif. They would make their move when his food was delivered. The SWAT team had already entered the building. A helicopter flew above the location, and the pilot landed the aircraft on the side of the building in a spot where he thought Kalif wouldn’t recognize it. Meanwhile, the SWAT team was entering the apartment across the hall from where Lydia lived.
Kalif looked out of the window and saw the helicopter. He grabbed Janelle, now awake, out of Lydia’s arms and held the scared child out of the window, dangling her like a doll. Lydia screamed for him to stop before he dropped her. Janelle was crying and trembling now, and Kalif kept her hanging while law enforcement watched in terror through their binoculars. The helicopter circled back around the building, and Kalif pulled Janelle back inside and threw her at Lydia.
The phone rang and Kalif immediately answered it. It was the negotiator. ”Hey, if you pull anymore stunts like that, you’re going to leave us no choice but to start applying force. We’re doing everything you ask us to do, but if you continue to behave recklessly you’re going to make us change our plans. I thought we had an agreement that nobody would get hurt.”
”Yeah, whatever,” Kalif said. ”Now let me tell you something: if I see another fucken helicopter out there, I’ll drop this rug-rat out the window. Do you understand that? You talkin’ ‘bout reckless...y’all keep playing with me and I’ll show you reckless. Now, where’s my fucken food at?!” he yelled into the phone as Lydia looked at him in complete horror.
Members of the Emergency Response Unit and the Hostage Rescue Team, along with other law enforcement agencies, were all inside the building now. They had entered through the back way. The entire area was closed off to the public, and the reporters and their news vans were still on the scene, catching everything live.
Kalif turned on the TV and wasn’t surprised to see his picture on the screen, along with footage of him holding Janelle out the window. ”Shut her up before I drown her ass in the toilet,” Kalif shouted when Janelle started crying again. ”I’m trying to watch the news!” Lydia held Janelle closer to her and began to sing gently. She wasn’t putting anything past Kalif; there was no telling what he might do after seeing him hang Janelle out the window. Kalif told Lydia that Denzel didn’t have anything on him right now; after seeing himself on all the news channels he felt like a star.
The phone rang. It was Ladelle. To his surprise, Kalif gave Lydia the phone. He figured that Kalif didn’t know who he was.
Ladelle didn’t waste any time. ”Listen to me, and don’t show any emotional reaction to what I’m about to say. The building is swarming with police. They are right across the hall. When he opens the door for his food, run in one of the bedrooms and lock the door. You hear me?”
”Yes, the baby is fine,” Lydia said pretending to be engaged in small talk with Ladelle.
”Is he right there?” Ladelle asked her.
”Yes, I’m hungry,” Lydia said continuing with the small talk.
”Okay, baby, hang up. And remember what I said,” Ladelle stated.
”I’ll let you go as soon as I eat and kill your man.... The next time they call I’m gonna tell them to send your bitch-ass nigga up here, and you and the little girl can bounce—fair enough?” Kalif said to Lydia as she hung up the phone. Lydia shook her head yes.
The doorbell rang and an officer outside in the hallway called out to Kalif, telling him that his food had arrived. ”Leave it at the door!” Kalif yelled back to him. He listened until he heard the officer leave, and then he slowly opened the door with the burner in his hand. Before he could bend down to pick up the bag, the door across the hallway was flung open and there were six guns pointing at his face.
”Drop your goddamn gun, asshole!! Now!! Drop it!!” the SWAT team screamed at him.
Ride or die, Kalif thought, and he licked off two shots before being tackled to the hallway floor. He was then thrown up against the wall and back onto the floor before being handcuffed. One of the officers kicked him and another one spit on him as he was being restrained.
Lydia and Janelle were rushed out of the apartment and were escorted onto the elevator. When they got outside, a huge crowd of people began to clap and cheer, glad to see that they had made it out alive. They were put in one of the police vans as Kalif was being brought out of the building in handcuffs.
Kalif was greeted by the same crowd of people who had just clapped and cheered for Lydia and Janelle. They were now angry. They began to throw bottles at him, and someone grabbed at his shirt. He was eventually bum-rushed and thrown to the ground, and several police officers watched in amusement as he was kicked and beaten.
Kalif was badly bruised when the police picked him up off the ground. They took him to an ambulance where he was strapped down onto a stretcher. The angry crowd refused to let the ambulance move. More than eighty people blocked the vehicle. ”Let him die!! Let him die!!” they shouted. One of the officers picked up a bull horn and addressed the crowd, finally persuading them to let the ambulance move. Kalif was taken to Harlem Hospital, where he was arraigned on several charges.