4: Four

Four

Saturday Evening - Jay’s BBQ, North Richmond

 

The sun was setting as a black Honda left the rear parking lot of Jay’s BBQ. Four men: Faze, Spider, KJ, and Silk sat comfortably in the average-looking sedan.

“I’m just saying, man,” Silk started, “the average cost of a slave in 1860 was about $800, right? In 2013 money, that’s at least $20,000. Our ancestors were worth less than Cadillacs, man.”

“Word, s**t’s fucked up,” Spider replied in a monotone voice, sipping from a Gatorade and taking a hit of a blunt.

“Yeah. And what’s more sad is that most of us have a net worth less than that. Think of all these kids right out of college with loans, man. They’re in the hole like $60K deep. That’s the new slavery.”

“What the f**k?” Faze laid his head back onto the headrest, staring at the roof of the car. “F**k you mean ‘new slavery’ bruh, I went to prison and them n****s had me stitching leather jackets for 8 cents an hour. N***a had to work two days to afford a f*****g pack of ramen noodles and a whole week for hot sauce to put on the b***h.”

“Yeah, but you’re a damn millionaire, man,” Silk replied. “You couldn’t put s**t in your commissary?”

“They wouldn’t let me,” Faze replied. “Redneck n****s don’t like rich black n****s.” 

KJ, the driver, turned to Faze to speak.“Wait, ain’t black n****s just n****s and redneck n****s just rednecks?”

“I mean yeah, but still my n***a, you know what I mean, I add the s**t for emphasis,” Faze replied.

“Yo, on average,” Silk started, “how many times a day do you think you say n***a?”

“Enough to get a white n***a sliced up and killed before breakfast, probably,” Faze answered.

“You probably say it every two out of three sentences, to be honest, but I ain’t trippin,” Spider said, turning to Silk afterwards. “How many sentences do people say a day on average, Mr. Fun Fact?”

“Damn, I’m gonna Google this s**t,” Silk said, pulling out his phone.

“MLK probably judge me every day from above,” Faze said.

“S**t, Malcom X probably wanna f**k you up, for real,” Spider said as everyone laughed.

“Man, that n***a’s my n***a,” Faze said. “That pic with him and the rifle near the window, that’s me every day, he knows how it is out here. Homie still got lit up by his own n****s. All because he found out that some white people were cool with him being black. N***a didn’t eat a single goddamn pork rind, either. Damn shame.”

“About 860 sentences a day,” Silk read from his phone.

“So that’s like 580 sentences with the word ‘n***a’ in them, right?” KJ asked.

“573,” Silk replied.

“N***a, that’s a lot of ’n****s’,” Faze said, causing the whole car to laugh.

“Ay bruh, we way too calm to be doing this s**t man,” KJ said.

“What, killing some Saigon n****s?” Spider responded.

“Yeah,” KJ said. “Faze, why are we doing it?”

“For money, bruh,” Faze responded. “What the f**k else?”

“Yeah but I mean why does anyone want them dead? Like I’m thinking one of the other gangs set this up with you. A joint venture or some s**t,” KJ added.

“Man, Richmond MC hasn’t done anything in a while, man,” Silk replied. “It’s kind of weird.”

“Yeah, those Mexican m***********s have been quiet for a while, too,” Spider added.

“The Frente Latino? Man, they ain’t just Mexican, most of them n****s are Salvadoran,” Faze replied.

“So they’re ‘Salvadoran n****s’?” KJ jokingly asked.

“Ugly n***a, shut up,” Faze wittingly replied.

“Man, I heard that their boss was missing or gone or something. Nobody’s seen him in weeks,” Spider said.

“He’s probably on vacation or something,” Faze responded. “Running a gang is hard work, if I weren’t a felon, I’d be in f*****g Cancun right now.”

“You might see him there, honestly,” Silk replied. “Obama’s deporting people like crazy.”

“S**t, we need to tell him to get rid of all them Mexican/Salvadoran n****s,” Spider said. “In the Frente, I mean. Mexican/Salvadoran n****s are cool as long as they pay taxes and don’t try to come at me.”

“N****s are alright so far,” KJ said. “They haven’t done s**t lately, and we’ve been able to use them when we needed to. Rey’s cool in my book, even if his subordinates look like they wanna cut my dick off.”

“Man I had this Latina last night that was wild as s**t,” Faze said. “Skinny girl, had a*s though, with blue/black hair. Rode me like I was a damn bull.”

“Was this why you left early last night?” KJ asked.

“Yes, n***a,” Faze flatly started. “P***y come in my face, I’m diving in, f**k everything else. She came up to me at the club talking about ‘have you seen a guy in a Nationals hat’ and I was like ‘nah girl, but what’s up with you?’ B***h name was Dani.”

“You buy her a drink?” Silk asked. The sun had completely set. Streetlights illuminated Powhite Parkway as the car travelled south.

“Man, I bought that lil’ hoe three Hennessey shots and a damn Corona. She was down for anything from the jump, so I took her to my place.”

“Your place?” KJ asked with concern.

“Yeah n***a, where else?” Faze asked.

“Dude, it ain’t wise to bring a girl you don’t know to your place,” KJ responded.

“Yeah, you got a lot of valuable s**t in your house, bruh,” Spider said.

“Man, that s**t’s whatever, the p***y was invaluable,” Faze said. “She was wildin’ out, calling me ‘Papi’ and s**t. She was kinky too my n***a, I almost died.”

“N***a how?” Silk asked, chuckling.

“She’s into BDSM s**t. But we didn’t have any BDSM s**t, so she just choked a n***a half to death.”

“What?” Spider, Silk, and KJ said in unison.

“Yeah. She had these white leather gloves on like Michael Jackson. S**t was like I died and came back to life. I think I saw heaven, for real,” Faze replied.

“Damn n***a, you see MLK?” Silk jokingly asked.

“Yeah, he said ‘keep f*****g them hoes, my n***a’,” Faze replied, laughing.

The car approached an intersection at an industrial area south of the James River. The four men prepared themselves, donning gloves and covering their faces with bandanas. They each pulled out a MAC-11 compact machine gun with an extended magazine attached. The car turned left towards the Roanoke Garage, where Long Neck was supposed to be, according to the man who gave Faze the mission.

“Alright, we’re gonna shoot out the left side, quick sweep, shoot any n***a in sight,” Faze commanded. “Left side first, right side for clean-up.” Everyone agreed, then paid their attention towards the garage.

From outside the building, three silhouettes could be seen. It was Long Neck and his brothers, all dressed in black, looking down onto a table.

“Okay,” Long Neck started. “When we get to the UVA campus, we’re gonna go to the Monticello Parking Lot and bring our weapons out of the trunk, conceal them, then find Danny who should have a key card for us to access every dorm room. We’ll need to go to A601 in Washington Hall. Once we’re there, rush in, shoot him in his sleep, then rush out. We’re leaving at 5am tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright,” Sean said. “We already placed the weapons, change of plates, masks, and the fake IDs in the car. We also placed some extras in the getaway car just in case we need to switch.”

“Good thinking, Sean,” Long Neck said. “This f****r thinks he can get away with treating our sister like a w***e. It’s going to be a pleasure to kill him.”

“I wish we could do more to him,” Alex, the third and youngest brother said.

“I know, Alex. Me too,” Long Neck said. “Take solace in the fact that we’re defending our baby sister.”

“So we can go, right?” Sean asked.

“No, not yet,” Long Neck replied. “I got a call earlier from a guy representing that a*****e’s father. He’s supposed to meet us here by 7.”

“What?” Alex said, surprised. “We’re still working with Kimsey after what his son almost did?”

“Look, this is a chance to expand,” Long Neck replied. “It’s something Ben Tre’s been wanting to do for a long time. And at this point, no private security contract is going to be more significant, gain us more press, or pay higher in Virginia than protec--”

Glass shattered. Bullets penetrated the lonely garage, aimed directly towards Long Neck, Sean, and Alex. The bullets rang out for 15 seconds, which seemed like an eternity to Long Neck, who had immediately dropped to the floor.

“Alex!” Sean exclaimed. Alex was hit, legs on the floor, upper-body still on the table. Blood began to drip onto the floor. Sean, kneeling at this point, was also hit, but in the shoulder. He had not realized it until he moved, then he flinched.

“F**k, who the f**k is shooting!?” Long Neck yelled. He tried to peek out the front of the garage, but the bullets resumed, so he and Sean stayed kneeling.

Blood continued to flow from Alex’s body. After drilling Alex, they paused, looking for anyone else in the building from their car. Sean picked up an AR-15, stood up, and fired back, but he could barely see the black car at night. Bullets from three of the assailants’ guns fired upon Sean. Several hit his chest. A few aimed directly toward his forehead, ending him immediately.

Long Neck crawled across the floor towards the back of the garage, looking for a car to help make an exit. He found an SUV and tried to open the door, but the car was locked. He had to go to the side entrance to retrieve the keys.

He was behind a wall that blocked the view from the front, so he confidently rushed towards the side of the building and frantically looked for the keys. After finding them, he rushed back toward the car.

“Surprise, n***a!” a voice said. Long Neck turned around and was shot in the head, killing him. The other three assailants joined the shooter and surrounded Long Neck as he lay with his mouth agape.

“Whoo s**t, that was quick and easy,” Faze said, concealed by a beanie and a bandana.

“I’ll take the pictures on the burner phone,” Silk said.

“Alright, lets see what these n****s got,” Spider said, moving toward the front and looking for valuables.

“My n***a got webby-a*s hands, as always,” Faze commented.

“Yo! These n****s got AR’s!”

“Word?” Faze asked, facing Spider. “Yo S., get them n****s’ close-ups and let’s get out of here. Grab some weapons, too.”

“Got ‘em!” Silk exclaimed. “$40,000 richer, my n***a.”

“S**t, I’m richer, y’all n****s might get a lollipop or some s**t for helping me out,” Faze said, jogging towards the black car. 

“Let’s go see the white n***a, I guess.”