Soon as the couple arrived back in Baltimore from the cruise, Tone’s first order of business was to get Netta settled into their new one-bedroom apartment that they would be sharing in Owing Mills, a small suburb just outside of Baltimore City. Tone carried the luggage inside the first floor apartment and promptly sat them down in the hallway. He then began showing Netta around.
“This is the bathroom,” he commented. “It’s kinda small, but it’ll do since we won’t be livin’ here long.”
It was hard to read Netta’s body language. She was so quiet that Tone thought something was wrong. For some crazy reason he was expecting her to shoot down the whole idea of moving in.
“Something wrong?” he asked, while Netta looked nonchalant. “You don’t like the apartment?”
“No, of course not,” Netta responded, looking around the small apartment. “I’m grateful that you thought so much of me to find an apartment for us.”
Netta was deeply moved. Today marked a turning point in her life. Tone getting this apartment for her meant the world to Netta.
Good, he thought. Tone needed to know that his efforts weren’t in vain. The apartment was a last minute thing so he had to settle for what was available.
Looking around the apartment, Netta could tell that everything in it was brand new. Everything from the pots, towels, linen, television, the bedroom set to the brown leather three-piece couch. Netta could literally smell the newness in the apartment. She took a seat on the couch and laid back, imaging her and Tone spending a lot of time together there.
There was no doubt in her mind she was happy to escape her old home. The mere fact that no one knew where she lived was a plus. After everything that she had been through, Netta felt like she needed a safe haven and this was it.
“Gimme a second. I got somethin’ for you,” Tone suddenly announced before disappearing into the bedroom.
When Tone reappeared standing at the entrance of the living room empty-handed, Netta was puzzled.
“Well, where’s it at?” she wondered.
“Hold ya horses,” Tone said while extending his hand to help her off the couch.
Netta grabbed hold of his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Then Tone reached in his back pocket and produced a small black stainless steel gun.
“Here, this for you,” he announced. “I want you to feel safe when I’m not here.”
Netta took the gun in her hand and carefully looked it over. There was a feeling of calmness that the firearm evoked in her. She liked the idea of having the gun around. Suddenly she didn’t feel so defenseless.
“You know how to use it?” Tone asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yeah, this ain’t the first time I had a gun in my possession. Trust me, I know how they work,” she assured him.
“Aiight, home girl, I was just checkin’,” he replied. “There’s eight shots in there. Not enough to go to war, but enough to get a nigga up off you.”
Netta continued to admire the gun, tinkering with the trigger safety. Every muscle in her body tensed up as she imagined all the damage she could do. She thought from this point on, she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.
“This was a nice surprise,” Netta admitted.
“I thought you’d like it,” Tone replied. “Now put that away, you scarin’ me wit’ that gun.”
Netta cut her eyes playfully in his direction. “Stop playin’ yo. I would never hurt you.”
“I know, I’m just jokin’,” he told her. “I’ma leave you here to straighten up the place. I gotta go handle some business. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Tone, be safe out there,” Netta told him. “Love you.”
“I will,” he assured her as he exited the house.
For the next few hours Netta busied herself around the house cleaning, unpacking and settling in, trying not to think, trying to keep her mind off what was really bothering her. In this case, it was Black. She had a bad feeling that things between them were going to come to a head very soon. She didn’t know how or when. Still, it’s what she believed.
While Tone was in the streets taking care of business, Netta’s thoughts were on him the whole time. Her most pressing thought was when would he be back? She didn’t like being home alone. She felt more comfortable with him there. Every little sound that the home or the surrounding apartment made put Netta on edge.
Netta was afraid to be alone in the house, gun or no gun. The hours that Tone spent hustling drugs in the streets felt like a punishment of some kind. Although she never expressed the fact that she was afraid of being alone in the apartment, Netta was very afraid. Afraid that Black would return and finish the job. Whether that thought was just plain paranoia or not, it took hold of her psyche just the same. Her thoughts were that of a person who was terrified of being killed or physically hurt again.
She couldn’t just go on with her life in Baltimore like she hadn’t been damaged by what Black had done to her. As if her life hadn’t been altered by the vicious beating he had administered. Netta knew better, only time and distance would cure what ills.
As night fell, Tone put his plan to kill Black in motion. He never told Netta of his intentions, this involved only he and his cousin Mann, acting as the get-away driver. Baltimore City was small, if one didn’t know where a particular drug dealer sold drugs, it wasn’t hard to find out. As soon as word of Black’s new shop reached Tone’s ears, he reacted swiftly.
Tone promised himself the next time he got into an altercation with anyone in Baltimore, he would be the aggressor.
Tone believed if Netta was to have a prayer of surviving Black, of living her life without fear, without constantly looking over her shoulder, he needed to end things now. He had made up his mind on the cruise that when he got back to Baltimore, he was going to launch a surprise attack on Black. This was a risky strategy for Tone. He was counting on the element of surprise to help him emerge victorious.
If he hurts her, he hurts me. And I can’t let that happen, Tone thought. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect my girl?
Tone had kept his intentions secret from everyone. Whatever information he shared was on a need to know basis. Netta wasn’t involved so she didn’t need to know. Tone was doing this on her behalf, so with that in mind, he would rather beg her for forgiveness than ask her for permission. He would endure all the rain just so Netta could bask in the sunshine. If that meant risking his life or his liberty to protect her, then so be it. One of Tone’s greatest pleasures in life was protecting the people that he loved. As long as he was around, Tone swore no harm would come to Netta.
Tone slid into the passenger seat of the car with a no nonsense look on his face. The look said he was one hundred percent serious about what he was going to do. For him there was no more worrying about getting caught up in a beef that wasn’t his. Or doing something he had no business doing. He was all in, the Uzi submachine gun sitting in his lap said as much to his murderous agenda.
“Take me to where this nigga be at,” he instructed his cousin Mann.
Mann nodded and proceeded to drive. Meanwhile, Tone shifted his attention to the task at hand. There was nothing left to talk about. Because of Netta, their paths were destined to cross.
Cautiously, Mann drove to 21st and Barclay Avenue. Slowly they crept up the block, on a search and destroy mission. This block was a crucial location to Black’s sprawling dope empire that he hoped to build. They had heard that he was out there on a daily basis, running the show. Mann had taken a few test runs through the area so he knew exactly what he looked like. He was just waiting for Black to show his face to point him out to Tone. Then he would handle the rest.
Once upon a time ago, one wouldn’t catch Black dead on the block. He had an army of workers to insulate him from the police and from the streets. But that was then, and this was now. With his release from prison, he was starting his dope operation from the ground up. He was looking to regain that lofty status again, as the gatekeeper of the heroin trade in East Baltimore. However, he knew that he had to take a hands-on approach. Black had to be out on the block with his team.
With Black’s level of success came a certain amount of confidence, a certain amount of arrogance, a way of thinking that made him feel untouchable. He didn’t count on anyone trying to derail his plans.
Black stood amongst his young workers, watching as they made dope sale after dope sale, unaware of the danger that was lurking.
“That’s that nigga right there,” Mann told him, pointing Black out.
Immediately, Tone hopped out the car and sprung into action. He raised the compact submachine gun to his chest, barely having to brace himself. An eerie silence seemed to engulf the block seconds before the attack. Black’s sixth sense seemed to alert him of the assassination attempt. He turned just as Tone pointed the weapon at him. Black was able to duck a millisecond before Tone began to fire.
The heart pounding sounds of automatic gunfire shattered the tranquility of the block. Sounds of broken glass, running feet and screams soon filled the air. Tone was thoughtless in his firing of the Uzi. He unleashed a high volume of bullets that no target could sustain to an extended period of time. He fired at Black and anyone else he thought was a threat. He wasn’t really thinking, a gun of that magnitude didn’t require him to. All he needed to do was point and squeeze the trigger.
Tone was sure he hit a few people. He could tell by the screams and the sudden collapses to the ground. Yet he wasn’t for sure if he had hit Black, his primary target.
After a few tense moments of hiding behind a car and listening for Tone’s footsteps, Black was able to slip away amongst the ongoing confusion.
For the entirety of the shootout, all Tone kept thinking about in the back of his mind was the police. He kept a silent count in his head of how long things had been going on. Right now it was telling him it was time to go. So Tone hopped back into the car, automatic gunfire erupted from the interior as they sped off.
Humiliated, Black ran through the alley a few blocks away. He knew he was lucky to have escaped with his life. He also knew he might not be so lucky next time. He didn’t know who that guy was that was shooting at him, but one thing he knew for sure, he was going to find out.
Netta hadn’t paged Tone a single time since he left the house earlier in the day. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to. She tried to ease her anxieties by going to bed. But whenever Netta tried to rest, she couldn’t. She just laid in the bed unable to sleep. There was constant movement, fidgeting from her eyes and limbs. Her mind was constantly in motion. She was experiencing strong bouts of restlessness. Black kept popping up in her head. The only thing that brought her peace was the grip of the gun in her hand.
She was having second thoughts about her new living arrangements. Netta felt she had rushed into this living arrangement knowing it was what he wanted, but not knowing if this was what she really wanted.
A sudden opening of the apartment door broke up those negative thoughts. When Tone finally arrived home, Netta had never been so glad to see someone in her life.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tone asked as Netta embraced him.
“Nothin’, I just missed you.” She smiled in an attempt to divert him from the truth.
Tone knew something was up even though he didn’t bother to press her about it. He had deeper concerns at the moment.
“I took care of that nigga,” he suddenly stated.
After shooting at Black, the only regret on Tone’s part was he didn’t let Netta know his plans before hand. However, he knew Black’s modus operandi, violence was his calling card. Black was a killer many times over. So Tone had made up his mind to strike first. He wasn’t waiting on Black to make the first move.
“Who?” Netta wondered, not having the slightest idea of whom he was talking about.
“Black!” Tone answered. “I think I got him.”
You think, Netta wondered. Either you did or you didn’t.
Tone continued, “Shit was crazy out there. I was just shootin’…..”
“Black ain’t the type of nigga you shoot. He’s the type of nigga you kill,” Netta told him.
Those words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, with each person left to determine the true meaning.
Instantly, Netta’s mind was flooded with fears and what ifs. Her warning seemed to allude to something. Like there was trouble brewing on the horizon. This would be a tit for tat situation. Right now, Tone was up, but Black owed him one. She knew that if he ever caught up with them, Black would be out for blood.
Suddenly, things were getting too real, too serious, and too dangerous for them both. Now there were consequences to pay.
“Now we really gotta get up out of Baltimore, yo……” Netta stated.
After speaking she fell silent. Now she was left to ponder what Black’s next move would be.