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Authors: Clifford "Spud" Johnson

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BOOK: Carl Weber's Kingpins
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“Yes.”
“And?”
“Your services are needed.”
“Good. I never did like 'em niggas,” Tippi said as she started back eating her catfish.
After they finished their meals they left the restaurant and went back to the block. As soon as King's Magnum came to a stop several members of the squad came over to his car. King and Tippi got out of the car and led the other members of the squad toward the trap. Once King got to the porch he sat down on the top step and said, “I've already called Keko. He's on his way over here now. When he gets here we're goin' to take care of some thangs. I already told y'all what was what, but I want y'all to see for yourselves so y'all will know fa' sho' what went down and why. I can't afford to shut down the block so some of y'all are gon' have to stay here and hold it down. So, who's it gon' be?”
There were seven squad members present in all. Three out of the seven chose to stay on the block while Flex, Nutta, Cuddy, and Boleg decided to go with Tippi and King. Ten minutes after that decision was made Keko pulled in front of the trap in his 1970 Impala. His twenty-four-inch chrome rims shined brightly as he climbed out of his old-school Chevy. He stepped quickly to the porch and said, “Let's do this shit. I'm missin' mad money on my side of town.”
“What, Spook ain't takin' care of shit for you while you gone?” asked Tippi.
“Spook can't be everywhere the way I can, Tippi,” Keko replied sarcastically.
“Whatever.”
King smiled and said, “Load up and follow your boy.” They all followed as King went and got back into his car with Tippi. The other squad members climbed into Keko's car.
As Keko followed King he said, “Man, 'em niggas done fucked up!”
“That's putting it lightly, son. Did you peep the look on Tippi's face? That broad 'bout to be on some murda shit fa' real,” said Cuddy.
“Man, I ain't tryin' to see none of that crazy-ass shit Tippi be into,” said Nutta, the youngest member of the squad.
“Why the fuck did you wanna come for then?” asked Flex.
Nutta shrugged his slim shoulders and answered, “I dunno.”
“Now that's some silly shit right there, youngsta,” Keko said as he continued to drive.
King pulled into the parking lot of the Motel 6 and parked his car right next to Trey's Avalanche. Everyone got out of Keko's car and came and stood next to King. King pulled out his phone and made a call. When the other line was answered he said, “Yeah, we're out here now. We're on our way up, y'all good?”
“Yes, we're fine, sir,” answered Agent Van Horne, who actually wasn't really an FBI agent at all. He was a friend of Charlie's who became a friend of King's. When King got hit with those goose bumps during his conversation with Trey and Vaughn earlier, he took that as a warning. So he decided to give Trey and Vaughn a little test. He wanted to make sure that they were loyal to him as well as to the squad. If they passed it would be all love. But if they failed then, well, they had to die.
King led the way upstairs to the room where Trey and Vaughn were telling two fake FBI agents everything they knew about King's illegal operations on the north side of Oklahoma City. When they made it to the room, King knocked on the door lightly and smiled at Tippi. Tippi wasn't in a smiling mood but she returned his smile anyway; he had that effect on her.
Damn, I love this nigga!
she thought. The door to the hotel room was opened by Agent Van Horne and King entered the room followed closely by Tippi and the rest of the squad. Trey and Vaughn both looked as if they were about to have a heart attack. Both of the fake FBI agents started laughing as they watched Trey's and Vaughn's reactions to King's entrance.
“Look at them. They're scared shitless,” said Agent Van Horne, laughing. His name was really Mike Webb. He was a car dealership owner out in the city of Bethany.
“Yeah, that look is priceless, fucking priceless!” Agent Bullock laughed too. His name was actually Ted Johnson, one of Charlie's many accountants.
“So tell me, guys, did my two friends here have a lot to say about me?” King asked as he stared hard at Trey and Vaughn.
“Let's just say that we now know everything there is to know about your operation, King,” said Mike.
“That's right. We even know about your plans to go legitimate in a couple of years,” added Ted.
Boleg, Cuddy, Nutta, Flex, and Keko stared at Trey and Vaughn with looks of disgust and hatred on their faces. Tippi had murder in her eyes but King was as calm as could be. His facial expression showed nothing. Though he was very angry he chose to remain extra calm about this situation. A point was about to be made. A show of sorts was about to be given to his squad members that if they ever chose to cross him, this would also become their fate.
Trey stared nervously at King and said, “King, man, we didn't—”
“Shut the fuck up, nigga! Say another word and you're goin' to die real slow, homie,” Tippi said menacingly.
“You two were a part of some real shit. I was goin' to let y'all earn all you could make, but I guess that wasn't good enough, huh? You had to go and try to cross the King. For that y'all gots to pay with your lives.” He turned toward Mike and Ted and said, “Thanks, guys, I really appreciate your help on this, especially with such short notice.”
“No problem, King, you know we hate snitches too.” They both laughed as they left the hotel room.
After the door closed, King turned back toward Trey and Vaughn and said, “If I don't test those around me whom I deem loyal, how will I ever truly know if their loyalty is true? You two failed my li'l test miserably. I want you both to know I get no pleasure out of hurtin' someone I considered my own. But y'all aren't a part of the squad. You never were. Y'all was fakin' wit' us.”
“Can you please save all of this drama and let me take these two bitch-ass niggas down?” Tippi said angrily, staring hard at Trey and Vaughn.
King frowned and silently gave himself a reminder that he would have to check Tippi for her fucking slick mouth. With a nod of his head he gave Tippi the go-ahead to do her. Neither Trey nor Vaughn saw it coming, even though they were expecting an assault. Tippi moved with lightning speed. No one inside of the hotel room saw her when she reached down and grabbed both of her stilettos from the holster she had strapped to each of her calves. That's why everyone was shocked when they saw her damn near decapitate Trey with one swift swing of her right arm. She severed every major artery in his neck. Before a gasp could be made, Tippi, with a backhand motion, stabbed Vaughn directly into his heart. He arched his back hard as his last breath left his body. Tippi pulled her knife out of his heart and smiled as his body fell back onto the bed. Blood was gushing out of Trey's neck like a fire hydrant. To say things were messy would be putting it mildly; blood was every-fucking-where.
“Daaaaaamnnn, look at that shit!” Nutta said as he stared at the gruesome sight.
“Damn, Tippi, now we gotta have somebody come and clean up this mess. Why didn't you blast 'em two niggas?” King asked as he stepped away from the bed where blood was slowly spreading all over the carpet.
“I used these because I wanted to make sure your point was made.” She turned so that she faced everyone inside of the room and continued. “You cross the squad or any of its members and this will be your fate. Real talk.” She then calmly stepped into the bathroom and began cleaning her weapons.
King shook his head and said, “Y'all go on and bounce. Me and Tippi will take care of this shit. Get at me later on and let me know what's what out in 'em streets.”
Keko laughed and said, “You got it, massa. We gon' make sho' everything is in order.”
Cuddy, Boleg, and Flex laughed at Keko's joke but King and Tippi's point had definitely been made. Do not cross the squad. If you do, death will definitely be yours.
Chapter Two
Flamboyant walked inside of his four-bedroom home out on Sky Island, a neighborhood mostly full of white people. With his new connections he was able to acquire his dream home. Now that he was making the type of money he knew he would one day make, he felt it was time for him to live up to his name, so he went all out; brand new expensive Italian furnishings were all over his home. Nothing but the best was inside of every single room. From the kitchen to the backyard, everything was top of the line. He smiled when he saw his lovely wife-to-be sitting at the dining room table, nibbling on some cashews as she read the latest
Sister 2 Sister
magazine.
“Hey, babe, what's really good?” he asked as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and joined her at the table.
Shayla smiled at him and said, “Nothing much, bored really. How was your day?”
“You act as if I've been at a fuckin' job or something. All I've been doin' is pickin' up money, babe.”
Shayla frowned and her extremely cute features showed her displeasure in her man's answer to her question. “Just because you were out there in the streets doing what you do doesn't mean that I can't ask how your day was. You irritate the hell out of me when you act so fucking immature, Marco.”
“Sorry, babe, but you act like you don't be knowin' what time it is. You know how I get down and you know I'm no Huxtable-type nigga, so why you trippin'?”
She slid out of her chair, shook her head from side to side, and went into their bedroom without answering his question.
Shit,
he thought as he followed her. Once they were inside of the bedroom he said, “Come on, babe, don't be mad at me. Why don't you get dressed so we can go out somewhere for dinner. I'll make some reservations real quick down at that spot you like in Bricktown.”
“I'm not hungry. Why can't we stay home and cuddle and watch a movie or something? Or is that too Huxtable for your ass?” she asked with much attitude as she went into the bathroom.
“Nah, we can do that. As a matter of fact, we can watch Netflix all night,” he yelled as he sat down on the bed and started to take off his shoes.
Shayla came back into the bedroom and asked, “What do you wanna watch? And please don't tell me no gangsta, shoot-'em-up stuff, Marco, 'cause I'm not trying to watch any of that shit tonight.”
He reached out and grabbed her around her small waist and pulled her onto his lap. He nuzzled his face in her firm, D-cup breasts and said, “Well, you better choose a movie real quick 'cause you definitely ain't tryin' to watch any of the movies I wanna see.”
She laughed and said, “You are too predictable, boy!”
“But you love me, right?” he asked as he stared into her pretty, light brown eyes.
She laughed and said, “Sometimes. Now pick something decent to watch for the evening. While you do that I'll make you something to eat.”
“You mean to tell me that you're going to cook for Flam?”
“No. I'm cooking for Marco.”
“You know what I mean,” he said sheepishly as he walked out of the bedroom.
Shayla went into the kitchen and began to make her man a quick meal. While she was preparing a steak with a can of mixed vegetables she was thinking about her life and how things had turned out so different from what she had originally planned. She shook her head and smiled as she thought about her past. “That was then; this is now,” she said aloud as she put the steak into the oven.
Shayla and Flamboyant seemed to be a perfect match. They were both extremely good-looking and that was a definite plus to Flamboyant. He was not only borderline conceited, he was a walking fashion show. No matter where he went or who he was with, he had to shine. When he entered a room with Shayla on his arm he felt as if he owned the world. His six foot frame was solid and he kept himself in tiptop shape. He worked out regularly so he could maintain his near-perfect physique. He kept his hair cut short and tapered on the sides. His light brown skin seemed to match Shayla's crisp bronze tone. Her short, naturally curly hair gave one the impression of Halle, but one look at her firm, voluptuous body and one screamed, “Melyssa!” Ford, that is. People not in the know swore that her D-cups had been paid for by Flamboyant, but they were just as natural as her pretty face. She was the real deal and a real beauty. Flamboyant knew that he had, hands down, the best-looking woman in Oklahoma City. They were royalty and he was determined to make sure that his queen had everything she ever wanted. And more!
* * *
The next morning when Flamboyant woke up he saw that Shayla was not in the bed with him. He climbed out of the bed and went into the living room. As he headed toward the kitchen he was thinking of the tasks that he was going to have to tackle for the day.
Another day of gettin' more money.
He smiled when he saw the note left for him from his queen.
After reading it he went back into the bedroom so he could pick out his gear for the day. The summer had just started so he chose a light linen shorts set with a pair of alligator sandals. As he set his clothes onto the bed he wondered why Shayla had chosen this morning to go and enroll in school. He knew she'd been talking about taking a few classes at the junior college, but why today?
Is she that bored at home? Hell, I give her everything she wants. She can't be that fuckin' bored,
he thought as he went into the bathroom to take a shower.
After he was dressed he grabbed his cell and called Prince as he went inside of the garage and got into his 600. “What's up, my nigga?” he asked when Prince answered the phone.
“Ain't shit.”
“All is well?”
“Oh, fa' sho'. As a matter of fact we need to talk. When are you comin' through?”
“I should be over that way in 'bout thirty. Do you need me to make a stop or are you good?”
“We need to chop it up first, but you will definitely have to make that stop sometime today.”
“I feel you. What's up with Wave and Ken? Have you heard from 'em?”
“Yeah, they're the reason we need to have a sit-down. Hurry up and get your ass over here, boss, then all of your questions will be answered.”
Flamboyant laughed and said, “I'm on my way, clown.”
After he ended the call he made another one. When Shayla answered her cell Flamboyant said, “Good mornin', babe.”
“Good morning to you, sleepyhead. Where are you?”
“On my way over to Prince's spot for a minute. You still at Rose State?”
“Mmmm hmmm. I should be finished in a hour or so. Have you had anything to eat yet?”
“Nope.”
“A'ight, after I'm done here let's meet at Jimmy's Egg.”
“I don't know how long I'll be with Prince, so call me when you're done and I'll let you know what's up, okay?”
“A'ight, bye,” she said as she hung up on him.
“Oops,” he said, laughing as he pulled out of his garage.
* * *
Prince was smiling as he watched Flamboyant get out of his car.
That is one flossy nigga,
he thought as he stared at his man. When Flamboyant entered a room everyone around paid close attention to him, and he loved every minute of it. It was as if he was a famous movie star instead of a local hustler.
“What's up, Flam?” asked Prince as they shook hands.
“Same old same old, my nigga. Now what's the deal?”
They sat down in Prince's living room and Prince began giving Flamboyant the rundown on how everything had been going down.
“So, everything is good,” said Flamboyant. “What's up with Wave and Ken, though?”
“Wave, with his cowboy ass, got into it with some brand new niggas at Club Déjà Vu. Before Ken could calm him down Wave pulled heat and blasted one of the niggas.”
“What? Did he get popped?”
“Nah, he good. 'Em New York niggas who own the club are slightly trippin', though. They like they ain't havin' that type of shit pop off in their spot. Basically, a lot of rah-rah shit.”
“Check it, get at 'em and slide 'em some change and let 'em know that Flamboyant sends his apologies for my man's behavior and that it will never happen again. My word.”
“Never say never, Flam, you know how that nigga Wave is.”
Flamboyant sighed and said, “Yeah, I know. Call that fool and tell him I said to get his ass over here like yesterday.”
Flamboyant then went into the kitchen to get something to drink while Prince called Wave. When he came back into the living room Prince told him that Wave and Ken were on their way over.
“Good,” said Flamboyant. “Now, tell me, do you need some more work?”
“Yeah, I was gettin' to that. Wave told me that them youngstas out on the southeast side want some gallons of that sherm. Since we normally don't be slangin' them by the gallons I wanted to get at you first with it.”
“How much are they tryin' to spend on a gallon?”
“I'm not knowin'. Wave will have to answer that one there.”
“That's cool. What else is poppin'?”
“That's about it really. Everything else is on point. The ya-yo moving lovely and so is the X. Them Kerr Village niggas been buyin' all of the bud so that's cool, too.”
Flamboyant smiled and said, “A'ight, then, let me make a few calls and I'll get the stock resupplied. Where's the ends for this last round?”
“Counted and put up.”
“Have you bagged up the others' pay yet?”
“Yeah, everything is ready. I was waitin' on you to give me the green light to drop everyone their ends.”
“Go on and handle that shit later on. Let everybody know that I said since we've been doin' so well, everyone gets a bonus on the next payday. On top of that, I'm planning on taking the team on a weekend trip to Miami. You think they gon' be wit' that?”
Laughing, Prince said, “You damn skippy! When are we gon' make that happen?”
“I was thinking about doin' it on the Fourth of July weekend. I'll have Shayla set it up for me and get back with you with the details.”
“Don't tell me you're goin' to bring sand to the beach, dog. That shit ain't even cool right there.”
“This trip is for y'all to relax for a weekend and get y'all clown on. As for me and Wifey, we'll do us. I ain't tryin' to be with no other broads. I'm completely satisfied.”
“Flam, we're talking 'bout the MIA, baby! Do you know how many bad Cuban, Puerto Rican, Haitian, hell, bitches period are goin' to be out there? You'd be straight trippin' if you took Wifey out there with us,” Prince said seriously.
“Call me a trip then 'cause Shayla is comin' with me when we hit the MIA, baby!” He laughed. “But let's get back to this BI for real.”
“A'ight. For the last few months we've been clearing close to two hundred Gs a month from the ya-yo bud. The sherm has been bringing close to three hundred Gs a month alone. We're clearing another hundred Gs with the X pills. So, all in all, we're clearing half a ticket a month. After payin' the bills and the team we're looking real good, baby. Real good.”
“That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!”
“But, peep this out, I think we need to be tryin' to look at settin' something up out there in Del City and Midwest City. I've heard that it's a lot of ends over that way.”
“'Em grimy northeast niggas ain't got a hold of that yet, huh?”
“Not to my knowledge. From what I've been hearing, that nigga they call King got all of the north on lock, but they ain't fuckin' wit' Midwest City or Del City. We might as well get a hold of that shit while we can. That can only add to our monthly profits.”
“Let me think about it. I'll get back to you in a day or so.”
“Cool. You won't mind if I send some of my peoples out that way to start scouting for traps for me, will you?”
Flamboyant laughed and said, “I guess you already know what my answer is goin' to be, huh?”
Prince smiled and said, “Pretty much.”
“Go on and do you, my nigga.”
“Fa' sho'.”
Before either could say another word there was a knock at the front door. Prince went to let Wave and Ken inside of the house. As soon as Wave saw Flamboyant sitting on the couch he smiled and said, “My bad, Flam. I already know what you're going to say.”
“If you already know what I'm goin' to say then why in the fuck do you be on some rah-rah shit all of the time, Wave? This don't make no damn sense. Here we are all eating good, damn good, and you're trippin' the fuck out, shootin' niggas in clubs and shit.”
“It was only one nigga, Flam.”
Flamboyant gave him a look that said, “Don't fuck with me.” Wave sat down next to Flamboyant while Ken stood next to Prince and watched as Flamboyant went off on Wave's ass.
“You've got to stop this rah-rah shit, Wave! Sooner or fuckin' later you're gonna cost all of us our position in this game. Before I let you fuck up what we've built, I'd put an end to your ass, dog. Do you feel me? You know I don't get down on that violent shit unless it's absolutely necessary. Believe me, when it comes down to all of us eatin' good, then it's absolutely necessary that I do what needs to be done.”
Wave stared at the man who had made it possible for him and his family to have more than he'd ever imagined having. For that he felt ashamed of his actions the other night. “My bad, Flam. I won't force you into doin' something that's not cool. It won't happen again. My word.”
BOOK: Carl Weber's Kingpins
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