The Face That Launched A Thousand Bullets (The Cartel Publications Presents) (35 page)

The Kings of 295

Baltimore

Bring The Pain

E
verything Cray said came to pass. From getting more money than anybody ever dreamed of to the rebellion from certain niggas on the blocks. The Kings of 295, both the DC and Bmore families, sat assembled at a table in a private restaurant in Bowie, Maryland. They received great opposition from Grimy Mike and Charms from Bmore. And after the hit on their lives, they all knew they had no intentions of relinquishing blocks.

“So what you want us to do, man?” Jinx asked while the rest of the crew looked on. “The nigga is runnin’ around tellin’ mothafuckas he can’t be touched. And that it’s just a matter of time befo he come at us again.”

Cray looked at Nyzon for help. But the way they ran the operation was simple. Cray operated the Bmore business, and Nyzon held down D.C. Now trust, if either one of them needed help from the other, they were there no questions asked. These rules were established early on.

“You need help from the DC fam?” Nyzon offered.

“Naw. You know the rules. I got us.”

“If you need gun power we got it.” Royala offered, being a respected member in the crew. “But you know Bmore betta than we do. So it’s your call on how you want to carry it.”

They sat at the table for an hour discussing a plan so vicious, that they were positive they’d be able to claim their blocks within a week.

Jinx

West Baltimore

Bout It

J
inx strolled out of his crib, jumped in his ride and parked it one mile from a Wal-Mart. He walked into the parking lot looking for another ride. When he glanced at his watch he saw it was ten minutes to 10:00 p.m. Slowly he scanned the surroundings for his prey.

It took him all of three seconds to find the appropriate victim.

Walking up to him swiftly, he stood behind him pressed his burner against the small of his back and said, “If you move I’ll kill you.”

“Don’t hurt me.” He said, his hands shaking in the air as Jinx rummaged through his pockets until he found his wallet and car keys. When he was done, he tucked them firmly into his own pocket.

He was just about to pull off when the old man jumped up, reached through the driver side window and held onto Jinx’s neck. Jinx couldn’t believe the old man was a fighter. His nails scrapped across his face, peeling the skin off under his fingernails. Usually they surrendered but this situation was different. Jinx was living up to his name already.

The man still had a hold of him until Jinx stole him twice in the face. He hit him so hard his teeth ripped into his flesh. Finally he dropped to the ground and out of view. What Jinx didn’t know was that his tie got caught onto the hinge of the truck, while he drug his body alongside the vehicle.

“Stop the truck!” people yelled as he barreled out of the parking lot. He was pulled fifty feet before he finally fell off.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” he yelled hitting the steering wheel.

He thought about ditching the truck to get another one but he didn’t have time. Cray gave specific orders and he had less than twenty minutes to drive back to the city, and follow through.

“Why the fuck did he grab me?! Why didn’t he just let me go?!”

He didn’t want to hurt anybody unless he had to because Jinx was more spiritual than most people knew. And he often battled with himself based on what he was doing in the streets, versus what he perceived to be right in God’s eyes. For him physical violence was a last resort.

He was still thinking about the man when he heard a baby crying in the back seat of the truck. He quickly adjusted the rearview mirror and saw a six-month old
white
baby strapped in a car seat as its arms and legs jerked fiercely.

He had to get rid of the truck! It was hotter than a stack of marked one hundred dollar bills. He knew every cop in the world would be trying to find his black ass and that white baby. He pulled the truck over a few miles from Wal-Mart, jumped out and saw a woman putting on her makeup at a stop light in a black Ford Taurus. Through her open window, he grabbed her by the hair, unlocked the door and through her to the concrete. She fell and rolled into the middle of the street, jumping out of the way minutes before the light turned green.

When he looked through the driver side mirror he saw her hands in the air like,’
What the fuck just happened?’
She still had her makeup brush in her hand and everything. Jinx put the peddle to the metal as he swung in and out of traffic. He had to get away from the scene as soon as possible before the cops started swarming. Things like this happened to him too many times and he knew timing was everything.

He was a few miles out when he saw a black Coach bag in the passenger seat of her car. He dug his hand inside and found a wallet, took out the thirty bucks and flung it to the floor.

When he dug a little deeper, he found a big bulky cell phone. The moment he powered it on he dialed 911. “Yeah…I’m the nigga that just jacked the dude’s car at Wal-Mart off Reisterstown road.”

“What’s your emergency?” the operator asked.

“Bitch, I said I just jacked a car. Now I ditched the car and kid two miles up the road. Send somebody to come get his lil ass.”

He through the phone out the window.

After dealing with the bullshit, it took him fifteen minutes to spot his targets off of Franklin Avenue in West Baltimore. He ditched the car, loaded his weapon and got out on foot about seven blocks away. Based on the info he was given from Cray, the stash house was recently re-stocked. If he was lucky, he’d score drugs and cash over $100,000. That would temporarily put them out of business.

Dipping in between two vacant row houses, he saw his target. When he checked his watch he saw it was 10:23. And just like planned, when he looked up the block further past his target, he saw three cars flash their lights once. The Kings of 295 were there and ready to come through if need be. Based on their plan, and wanting to get in without being spotted, one
sure shot
nigga was plenty. Now he had to rely on his intuition to make things happen.

“Get me a chicken box and a large half and half.” James Factory said to one of his hoppers.

“Can I get somethin’ too?” the ten year old little boy asked taking the money from him.

“Not until you bring my shit back and I check to make sure everything is right. Now get the fuck out my face.” He said checking his surroundings and guarding the front door.

The little boy ran off to get the food and James Factory was left alone to man the outside of the house. The moment he turned to the left and saw a girl with an ass so fat, it put Buffy the Body’s to shame, he let his guards down. And when he did, Jinx moved up to him and cracked the back of his head with the barrel of his gun.

Clink!

“This can go easy or quick. Which way you want it?” Jinx kept the heat to his dome.

Blood from the wake up call he just gave him dripped down the back of his neck. Plus he was still salty at the attack on their lives the other night.

“Easy!” he said with an attitude, trying to play tough.

“My man!” Jinx said shoving him to the door as he looked around to be sure no one was coming behind him. “Now I already know the re-up is in there, so tell me how many mothafuckas on duty.”

“Two. That’s it.” He lied.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

“Shit man!” he yelled rubbing his head.

“Shut the fuck up! Now I know for a fact Springman, Grimy Mike and Doles in that mothafucka. So already that’s three so why the fuck you lyin’? Now how many on duty?”

James knew right then that the man wasn’t playing. Somebody definitely gave him the inside scoop so he couldn’t bullshit him anymore.

“Now you wanna keep lyin’ to me and hit this concrete, or do you wanna start tellin’ me the truth and live?”

“Doles is on the door and Springman guardin’ the weight. What about Grimy?”

“He in the back.”

“Cool. Let’s move.” He said pushing him inside.

They walked up six steps before coming up on a thin wooden door. Using James’ body, Jinx pushed him in knocking the entire door down. Springman went for his heat and Doles was already aiming in his direction. Caught off guard, Jinx unloaded his weapon hitting Springman in the middle of his forehead twice.

“What you wanna do man?” he asked Doles as the two of them aimed at one another. “I’m a sure shot.”

Doles looked at his man lying on the floor, put his weapon on the table and raised his hands in the air.

“Smart dude.” He eyed all the money, weight and dope on the table. “Where’s Grimy?”

“He left five minutes ago out back. He ain’t here.” Doles said.

“Get up!” he said kicking James in the ass. “Bag that shit up for me.” He told him spotting a trash bag in the corner.

James crawled on his hands and knees to get the bag.

“Hurry up, man. I’m gettin’ nervous, and when I start gettin’ nervous I start shakin’ and when I start shakin’ I start shootin’ niggas.”

James sped up and threw all the weight and the money in the same bag. When he was done, he handed the bag to Jinx and dropped to the floor again.

“I’m wit the Kings of 295 and these our blocks now. If you got a problem wit it, get use to seein’ us. Now spread the word.” He said walking out the door backward.

Although it was difficult to see, some light peaked from out under the front door. Because of it, he was able to see a white chicken box, a Styrofoam cup and a few wings on the steps. He realized it was the kid he saw earlier.

“Fuck!” he yelled angry he shot a child. It was the first time he shot someone not in the game. “Where your car at?!” he turned around yelling at James.

“Out on the curb. It’s the black silver Wagon.”

“Give me yo keys!”

He threw them to him, and he ran down the steps, scooped up the kid, all the while maintaining his hold on the bag of dope and money in his hand. He saw a few members of his crew exiting their cars and he threw them the money and rushed past them. He’d explain later. He couldn’t see the little dude dying on his watch.