CHAPTER 4
The election results were soon to be announced, and back at the Dominion Mansion Journey Haggar, chief of security, had the premises on lock and all his ducks lined up in a row. Viceroy Dominion was a real paranoid dude, and he changed his door cylinders and switched up his elaborate security systems on the regular. He liked to rotate his security staff out among various companies every two years too, but Journey Haggar was the exception. He had been on the job for six years now and he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon.
Journey had earned himself a permanent position when he’d argued Viceroy down for skimping on the staff and working the hell outta them for measly pay. He had told the big boss right to his face that penny-pinching on security was a sure way to get his shit stole, and he warned him about hiring low-level guards who had larceny in their eyes and nothing to lose.
At first Viceroy had bucked at the back talk from a lowly employee, but later that night in his office, over some yak and some smokes, he’d admitted to Journey that he liked the fact that he wasn’t no ass kisser. Viceroy told the young buck that he had mad respect for him for working his way up outta the gutter the same way that he had done back in Houston.
Hearing those kinda words coming outta a rich man’s mouth had meant the world to Journey. He was a hood-head bodybuilder who was young and outspoken, and he had been an ex-gang leader from Port Arthur before joining the military for a stint. Viceroy was well aware of Journey’s background, yet he had hired him anyway. And in Journey’s eyes, Viceroy Dominion had saved his life by giving him a chance, and in turn he had grown fiercely loyal to the Dominion family.
“Ga’ head inside and do a thorough security check and make sure all the cameras and monitors are on point,” Journey directed his two subordinates that were on duty for the night. “I’ll take the perimeter for the next hour, but I want you to radio in with me every twenty minutes, got it?”
The two guards went inside to do as they were instructed and Journey checked the gun on his hip and then hopped on the four-wheeler and proceeded to cruise the property. Nothing too crazy ever really popped off at the mansion but Journey was always ready for the slightest sign of static because both the streets and the military had taught him to stay on guard.
He took his time scouring the property as he rode around the estate for a few, and then he turned around and headed on back. He was coming up on the tool sheds near the far side of the house when something out of the ordinary caught his eye. At first he thought it was the shadow of a tree swaying in the wind, and then he noticed the door swinging back and forth on the last shed, the one where the maintenance workers kept their tools.
Lazy fuckers. They’d done a lotta work reseeding the grass after the recent barbeque, so he figured one of the workers had simply forgotten to turn the lock. Journey hopped off the four-wheeler and went to close the latch, and that’s when he realized that the lock had been completely broken off.
Right away Journey’s street senses started tingling, but before he could uncheck his heat a shadow rose up and he was gripped up from behind in a dope-fiend headlock.
Journey immediately grabbed at the forearm that was clenched around his neck and to his surprise that shit didn’t feel all that strong. He squatted down on his powerful legs, reached back and grabbed the intruder by the back of his shirt, and then used his superior strength to flip the guy completely over his head.
Thunk!
Journey slammed the dude down hard on his back and started going to work. His rock-hard fists smashed into the man’s face unmercifully as he growled, “You musta thought I was a pussy nigga, huh?” he talked mad shit as he wilded out on the guy. “You cased up the wrong fuckin’ crib, muthafucka! I’ma break ya face for you, you piece of shit!”
The guy on the receiving end of Journey’s brutality was squirming and doing his best to deflect the blows. Journey reached for his piece to gun-check him, and that’s when a hulking figure ran up and caught him on the blindside.
WHACK!
The impact of the punch knocked Journey right on his ass. In an instant he was on the reciprocating end of the beating as the big guy drilled him with a series of brutal punches and kicks. Of course the other dude had to get him some get-back, and before he knew it Journey was getting jumped viciously as the intruders tore off into his ass and dragged him inside the storage shed.
“Bitch-ass nigga!” One of the men barked as he kicked Journey square in his face. The force of the blow made him see stars and he damn near passed out.
Journey rolled around on the floor of the dark shed trying to shield his head and protect himself, but he was getting fucked up. He rolled over to his right and felt for his gun, but as soon as he managed to grab hold of it one of the guys noticed.
“Oh shit, yo! He got a strap . . . get to the house, yo! He got a strap!”
Journey cocked his gat and started shooting blindly in the dark. He heard the sound of feet scattering but he continued to shoot until he was out of rounds. The gunblasts had been deafening inside the small shed, and as soon as he stopped shooting there was nothing but dead silence.
Journey pulled himself to his feet with the empty burner clenched in his hand, then stumbled outside with his ribs aching and warm blood pouring from a gash in his forehead. Wiping the blood from his eyes, he scanned the area as best as he could, and then abandoning the four-wheeler, he hauled ass around to the front of the mansion. Moments later he busted through the service door and damn near collapsed as the other two guards came to his aid.
“Yo! What happened, Journey?” They picked him up by his arms and his ankles and carried him into the living room. “What the fuck happened?”
“I got jumped,” Journey groaned as the pain in his ribs intensified. “Two dudes . . . couldn’t see ’em that good . . . black, though. Sound the fuckin’ alarm. Call Mr. Dominion and then do a sweep through every room up in this bitch. Code nine, muthafuckas! Them bastards was tryna get up in the house!”