Killer Diamonds

Killer
Diamonds

Michael Goin
s

Copyright 2013 Michael Goins

Published by Sullivan Productions LLC

www.leolsullivan.com

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written consent from both the author and publisher Sullivan Productions LLC, except brief quotes used in reviews, interviews or magazines.

This is a work of fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real person. All the characters, incidents and dialogue in this written work are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be considered as real. Any references or similarities to actual events, entities, real people living or dead, or to real locations are intended for the sole purpose of giving this novel a sense of reality. Any similarities with other names, characters, entities, places, people or incidents are entirely coincidental.

Prologue

Orange Mound

Five years earlier

              “Get down,” Nano whispered.

             
Suddenly, Tip ducked when the headlights turned on Delaine Street. They were waiting on a white Ferrari. When the headlights passed by, Tip looked up from the passenger seat hopeful.

             
“Baby, that’s not it.”

             
Nano slowly came up from the driver’s seat to have a second look. He then sighed.

             
“Maybe it’s the wrong night,” Tip said tiredly.

             
Nano glanced at his Omega watch that gave off a bluish glow. It indicated that it was two in the morning. They were sitting in a rented black Ford Explorer the spots down from a girl named Eve’s house.

             
“Maybe Hitman got the time wrong.”

             
“Nah,” Nano said trying to relax. “Not him, he doesn’t get things wrong.”

             
Tip exhaled loudly to show she disagreed. She looked over at him and said, “I hope you’re right.”

             
Nano turned to her, even though it was dark in the SUV, he could feel her piercing gray eyes staring at him. Sometimes it felt as if she could stare right through him.

             
“It’s the right house,” he told her confidently. Abruptly he turned away from her as another pair of headlights turned onto the street. Simultaneously, they both ducked. When the car had passed them, Nano slid up in his seat to get a better look.

             
“Ok boo, there goes the Ferrari.”

             
Nano grabbed the .357 and checked the cylinder. He then pulled on his black ski mask and grabbed his duffle bag. While he did this Tip checked her matching .357, they liked to call them the “blue steel twins.” Their plan didn’t call for Tip to go inside, but Nano always liked to be sure she was prepared, just in case.

             
“Be careful,” she told him.

             
He looked at her through his ski mask. “I got this. If I’m not back in ten minutes, get out of here.”

             
“Yeah right.”

             
“I’m serious!”

             
Tip could tell he was, even though all she could see with the mask on was his eyes. Nano slipped out of the driver’s seat, and a second later, he was gone. Tip climbed over the console and behind the wheel. She waited approximately one minute, and the she flashed the headlights. Instantly, two individuals exited a car parked twenty-five feet down the road on the opposite curb.

             
It was Hitman and Time, and they were also wearing black ski masks. A small white beam from a flashlight blinked twice at Tip. That was her signal to go. Tip turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. She passed the two as they were walking and made a right at the next street.

             
Hitman and Time crossed the street and made their way through the neighbor’s yard once they saw the Explorer turn. After they gained entry to Eve’s backyard, they waited for their next signal. This one would come from inside the house.

             
Skillz, Craig, and Ace sat in a white Nissan Pathfinder waiting. When the lights from the passing Explorer flashed, Skillz started the truck and pulled off.

             
“They’re ready,” he said waking up Ace who had fallen asleep waiting. The three individuals in the Pathfinder were all carrying guns, along with a briefcase containing $275,000. Three days earlier, they had arranged to buy ten kilos of cocaine from a man named Kane. An individual the group knew as Yella set up the buy. However, the group had different intentions than the original plan indicated.

             
Skillz made a left turn and drove until him came to the house where the white Ferrari was parked. He pulled into the driveway and parked behind it. “How that trick hook up with a nigga like this,” Ace asked. He was the youngest of their group.

             
“Get off that shit,” Skillz said. “When we hit this nigga for that work we’ll be on some high and mighty shit too.”

             
“Come on,” Craig told them stepping out of the car with the briefcase as Ace followed. “If anything look funny to y’all, start blasting,” Skillz said closing the car door behind him. Craig and Ace acknowledged his order with a nod. When the three of them reached the front door, Craig rang the doorbell. A few seconds later a Puerto Rican female opened it. Based on Yella’s description they assumed it had to be Eve.

             
“You must be Craig,” she said leaning against the doorframe wearing only a men’s dress shirt and holding a glass of wine in her hands. Her demeanor indicated it was not her first glass of the night.

             
“I’m Craig. Is Kane here?”

             
Eve eyed Skillz and Ace then looked back to Craig. “Who are they?”

             
“These are my people.”

             
“They’re gonna have to wait outside for you.”

             
“That ain’t gonna happen. If they can’t come with me I’ll have to take my bread somewhere else.”

             
Eve didn’t look like she was going to budge so Craig made a show of looking at his gold watch, giving her the impression he had other places to be. She eyed them contemplating. Unlike Ace and Skillz Craig was dressed professionally in a blazer and dress slacks.

             
“Kane was late,” Craig added as she thought.

             
“Wait here,” she said giving them one final look before closing the door.

             
“Damn,” Skillz whispered, “you’re about to fuck things up.”

             
“Don’t worry, he ain’t about to turn down no dough.”

             
A minute later Eve opened the door back up. “He said to come in,” she said with a disappointed look on her face. She stepped aside to let them enter and closed it with more force than necessary behind them. “Right this way,” she said with a forced smile.

             
The three of them turned and followed her down the hall. In the light, they could see her silhouette beneath the shirt; it didn’t appear she had anything else on. She led them down the hall, passed a nicely furnished sitting room, and into the kitchen.

             
When they arrived in the kitchen they realized there would have to be a slight change in their plans. There were two other individuals in the house that they had not expected.

             
“So you’re Craig,” the tallest of the three men asked. They were standing around a polished wood table covered in neatly wrapped and compressed bricks of cocaine. They could tell from his ego that the man who had spoken was Kane. He was wearing a pair of linen pants with no shirt. The excessive jewelry let them know he thrived on and craved attention. He approached Craig carrying a small baggy containing cocaine. He stopped a foot away, scooted some of the powder onto a piece of paper, and snorted it up his nose. Kane tilted his head back and pinched his nostrils. “Jesus,” he exclaimed, “This is some really good shit! You got the money?”

             
Craig held up the briefcase and patted it.

             
“Yella said you wanted ten bricks.”

             
Craig nodded his head in agreement and Kane walked back to join the other men at the table. “Show me the money,” he told Craig.

             
Craig started to approach the table when Kane yelled, “On the floor,” pointing at a spot in front of the table. The other men at the table became alert at the tone of Kane’s voice. Craig slowly knelt, set the briefcase down, and opened it. It turned it to show Kane and his men the money inside.

             
“How much is that,” Kane asked.

             
“Two-hundred seventy-five thousand.”

             
Kane dug into his bag and filled his other nostril before replying. “The deal was three!”

             
Craig closed the briefcase and shook his head. “It was two-hundred seventy-five.”

             
The two men looked to Kane as if waiting for instructions. He suddenly began to laugh, “Alright two seventy-five is it.” He turned to Eve, “Take the money and run it.”

             
She came and took the briefcase from Craig smiling at him. “Hurry the fuck up,” Kane barked at her. Her smile quickly faded and she left the kitchen embarrassed.

             
“I’m sorry about that. I told Yella it would be three-hundred, this shit ain’t cheap.”

             
“I’m just here on business,” Craig stated calmly.

             
“Business… you tell Yella… never mind, I’ll tell him myself. Like you said, business is business.” Kane eyed his guests, “Can I get y’all something to drink?”

             
“I’m good,” Craig replied, as Ace shook his head no.

             
“What about you,” Kane asked looking at Skillz.

             
“What you got?” Skillz feared no one, especially with his nine-millimeter under his shirt.

             
“I’m Kane, I’ve got everything.” He looked to his two men and smirked. Skillz had only known the man for three minutes and already detested his arrogance. “I like the best,” he told him.

             
Kane looked at him surprised, and then smiled. “Your paper right dawg,” he asked walking to the fridge.

             
“I’m alright.”

             
Kane started to laugh and his men joined in. Immediately, Skillz felt humiliated. Nobody mocked him. Let alone, not some black ass Scarface nigga who had a habit. He looked at Ace and then Craig. Craig was giving him the signal to chill. He shook his head slightly knowing what Skillz wanted to do.

             
Kane closed the fridge and walked over to Skillz, because of the height difference he was looking down at him. “You know what this is,” he asked holding up a crystal bottle with brown liquid inside. To avoid more humiliation, he remained quiet. Kane sniffed, “This right here is Henry the Eighth. A bottle of this will run a nigga two stacks. I ran through ten of these muthafuckas tonight. Twenty grand… that ain’t shit to me!”

             
While he was expressing himself, his saliva sprinkled Skillz’s face. Instantly, something was triggered in him. He looked at Craig with an apologetic face, snatched the nine from under his shirt, and pointed it. Quickly he shot off four rounds. Kane stumbled back in surprise before crashing into the countertop and falling to the floor. Before the other men could comprehend what had happened, Skillz turned the gun on them.

             
“Get on the fucking floor!”

             
They quickly obliged.

             
“Y’all thought that shit was real funny huh?” He eyed both of them. One was obviously terrified, while the other appeared to have been in that predicament before.

             
“Fuck niggas!” Skillz wiped Kane’s saliva from his face. He then pointed the nine at the one who seemed comfortable and squeezed off two more rounds.