“Police are still looking into last week’s near fatal shootings of two local businessmen,” the perky anchorwoman said. “Anyone with any information in this case, please call the number on the screen.”
“The man who shot them is dead and buried,” Millsap said to the television as he sat brooding in his newly furnished apartment. “I went to the funeral just yesterday.”
Unlike the police, everyone in the drug game knew exactly who was responsible for Bonz and Racker’s shootings. Though none of them would ever break code and tell the authorities, they all knew that E-Blade betrayed his friends that fateful night he ended up dying himself. He’d been betraying them for years by constantly diluting the product to increase his own profits. And this was despite the fact that he received the greatest street percentage among the generals anyway.
Did the other generals know about E-Blade’s monetary betrayals?
Bonz knew about some of them since he usually kept his ear to the streets. Millsap knew about them all because he’d worked directly under E-Blade for years. He’d been just about to work directly under Bonz as a general-in-training when the drug lab blew up.
“In other news, local and state authorities have ruled out terrorism as the cause of last week’s explosion on
“You won’t hear no praises from me!” Millsap shouted at the television. That one incident stopped him from rising among the ranks and he was very bitter about it. Thus all the ranting at the anchorwoman on the TV screen.
“Furthermore, even Police Chief Wyman couldn’t help but agree that the loss of that secret lab made his job amazingly easier this past week,” the anchorwoman continued. “In fact, the crime rate in
“Found and persecuted to the fullest extent of the law!” Millsap shouted, ready to put a hit out on the person responsible for his lost opportunity and loss in profits.
Suddenly his cell phone rang. The Lil Wayne Stunning Like My Daddy ringtone revealed that it was a text message from one of the generals. Millsap scrambled to view the message. The anchorwoman on the television was long forgotten now.
The message read: “Tag. You’re it, young general. PS. Let the lab go. ALL of it. More later.” Then a large animated bone dressed in a general’s uniform appeared on the screen, gave him a military salute, and then waved goodbye before exiting the screen again.
Millsap whooped loudly and jumped excitedly in the air.
Was he happy that Bonz and Racker survived that attack from E-Blade?
But he was even happier about that clandestine message Bonz just sent him. Especially since it meant that Bonz had given him that intended promotion anyway.
That message meant a few other things, as well. One, that Bonz wanted him to let the lab thing drop completely, which meant he likely knew who destroyed it and was handling the situation himself. Two, that Bonz had officially retired from the game and would contact him later with more vital information like detailed locations of their minor labs, which were still operational.
The phone call Millsap received from Racker soon thereafter confirmed what Bonz had communicated by text. The only addition was the fact that Racker was retiring from the game, too, and that Mike-Mike was his replacement.
Millsap was completely shocked now and yet thrilled at the same time by this unexpected turn of events. It was inconceivable that both generals would retire in one day.
The fact that Bonz and Racker appointed replacements instead of just stepping aside quietly proved just how worthy they’d been of their ranks. They knew that Millsap and Mike-Mike would have challengers to their newfound power and thus needed a certain stamp of approval to keep order among the street force. In short, this was Bonz and Racker’s way of keeping the body count down.
The first thing I’m gonna do is build another lab, Millsap mused after hanging up with Racker. Except this time the main lab would be built in a more rural area. This way, they could better monitor the comings and goings of visitors and employees alike, and hopefully avoid another bomb threat.
When the euphoria from his recent promotion subsided a little, Millsap’s thoughts finally returned to Delia. He’d been thinking about her a lot more lately. His heart grieved for her.
Millsap hated that E-Blade’s infidelities had finally driven Delia over the edge, causing her to take E-Blade’s life the same night he tried to take the life of his longtime friends. He hated Cami even more for helping to send Delia over that edge.
I knew she was no good, Millsap thought, glad that Cami was locked up on a drug charge stemming from all the narcotics the police found in her apartment that fateful night. The fact that her case was an open and shut matter made for quicker processing and sentencing.
Had Millsap known that Cami was waiting down the road with the car lights off while E-Blade exacted revenge upon his friends in another car, he would have despised her even more. Had the authorities known she was at the scene of yet another crime, they might have given her more time behind bars instead of just under five years.
Millsap just hoped Delia beat her manslaughter charge since shooting E-Blade had been deemed accidental by even him before he died. Millsap also hoped that Delia’s heart would heal from all this trauma. That maybe one day she’d be emotionally ready to love again.
And when she is, I’m gonna be ready to love her back, Millsap vowed, undeterred by Delia’s violent tendencies. Especially since he deemed them purely a product of her tainted romantic environment. In fact, he was convinced that if Delia had a faithful man, she wouldn’t be violent at all.
I’m gonna be that faithful man, Millsap promised himself, willing to turn in his playa’s card for a quality woman like Delia. He was even willing to help her finish raising E-Blade’s kids.
In the meantime, he was going to stay away from nasty women who were unworthy of being faithful to. In particular Paris, the woman that caused Millsap to have to get a shot of penicillin and be on antibiotics for two weeks straight.
A brotha is double bagging it from now on, he vowed, making yet another promise to himself.
© 2008 by Suprina Frazier