Trent knew he had started a war with the most notorious drug kingpin in the streets of L.A. He had to make sure his street team was ready for whatever came their way.
When Wiz arrived at Trent’s spot, he drove around to the alley. He saw Trent’s car parked against the garage.Wiz took out his two guns, MAC-10s with extended clips. He knew that Trent and Marcos were gone, but, just in case, he wanted to be ready to lay some bodies down. He crept around, peeking in the kitchen window and making sure no one was in there. Once he saw it was clear, he kicked the back door open with his guns drawn. He walked out the kitchen and quickly fell to his knees when he saw his cousin lying in a pool of blood. His eyes were still wide open. Wiz could tell rigor mortis had set in. He sat and cried by his cousin’s side. He searched his cousin’s pockets for any belongings that he might’ve had on him, but, like some crack heads, Trent and Marcos had left him with nothing. Wiz dreaded the call he had to make, but he knew he had to face the facts. He called his pops.
“I’m so sorry, Pops. I should have listened to you, but, instead, my ego got in the way,” Wiz cried to his father.
Immediately, his father knew something was wrong. “What is it, Gabriel?” he asked, calling Wiz by his birth name.
“They got Alonzo, Pops. He’s dead, and it’s all my fault.”
“Where are you?” his father asked.
Wiz gave his father the location, and, within minutes, members of his father’s street team had surrounded the whole block. One of his father’s gunmen informed Wiz that his father was waiting for him at home. He told him to leave because they had everything under control. Wiz dragged himself to his car. Tears were still falling out of his eyes. He had let his family down, and, most importantly, he had let his cousin down. He should have been by his cousin’s side. Wiz knew he would never forgive himself, and, because of that, Trent had to pay. He would make sure of it until his casket dropped.
By the time Wiz made it to his parent’s home, his eyes were bloodshot red. He knew his father was waiting for him in the backyard. This was where his father meditated when things went wrong. Wiz’s mother walked up to him and gave her only child a hug. As she embraced him, she cried. Wiz embraced his mother tightly. He did not want to let her go, but he knew he had to move along. Wiz walked out back and sat across from his father. Wiz kept his head down, not wanting to look his father in the eyes.
Wiz’s father cleared his throat, which demanded Wiz’s attention. Then, he said, “Son, I’m very disappointed in you. What were you thinking? Well, you weren’t. That’s for sure. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that you don’t make drops by yourself, so how could you send your cousin to do a job that he barely even knew how to do by himself? This is bringing way too much heat on us, Gabriel. We already have the feds on us now. I know like hell I’m not going to let this ride. I’m too old to be in the field, but, now, I gotta murk a few niggas. I want you to pop everything moving and don’t stop until a body drops.” Wiz got the message loud and clear and then got up and hugged his father.
Over the next few hours, Trent and Marcos gathered up their soldiers and let them know that a war was coming and to be ready.
“If you stay ready, you ain’t got to get ready,” Marcos said, using the lines from one of Suga Free’s songs.
“There is still money to be made, so just watch your backs,” Trent informed his soldiers.
It was a team of twenty hardcore, grimy niggas that was down for whatever. In the midst of that group was Trent’s young protégé Marquise, Nicole, and slick talking-ass JD, back when he was on Trent’s good side. They all seemed ready. Trent passed the keys to JD. After he rocked up the product, he went to sell it in San Julian Park. That was where all the crack heads where waiting to get a hit. The five man crew would finish their product in no time. Along with the others that Marcos had distributed the dope out to, they were sure to take downtown by storm. Well, that was their plan.
The dope was selling smoothly. It was such a calm and easy day that no one saw what was coming for them as Wiz and his entourage came through and took out any and everybody walking. It was a total surprise for Trent and his crew. Before some of them were aware what was happening, it was too late. Trent ran behind a trash bin, reached underneath it, and grabbed his TEC-9. Meanwhile, Marcos hid behind the door, holding his sub machine Uzi. Trent came from behind the trash bin, shooting, trying to murk everything moving. Trent was sure he had dropped two or three of Wiz’s crewman. He was maneuvering from behind buildings. He couldn’t account for anyone else. All he knew was to protect himself.
Trent was running out of ammunition. It wouldn’t be long before Wiz caught up to him. As he was running, someone snatched him into the Sanborn Hotel. He didn’t know who had caught him. Trent thought it was the end. It took him a minute to catch his breath and to recognize where he was.
“You alright?” Nicole asked, grabbing a tight hold onto him.
Suddenly, they heard gunshots. One bullet had shattered a window beside them, striking the security guard in the back.
“Shit! When is all this gonna end?” Nicole screamed.
Trent pulled Nicole to the ground. Then, they crawled to the back of the hotel.
“Where the hell is Marcos?” Trent asked, wondering if his right hand man was okay. He searched his pockets for his cell phone, but he soon realized that it wasn’t with him.
“Damn! I must have dropped it outside somewhere.”
Marcos walked out of a room with a smoker named Dwight.
“My nigga, I’ve been blowing your phone up. I’m glad to see y’all made it through the fire,” Marcos laughed half-heartedly. “This is some shit right here. JD and Marquise made it safely away from here. We’re outnumbered. Half of our team is gone,” Marcos replied.
“We gotta get up and get the hell outta here quickly as quickly as possible,” Nicole said frantically. The only way out the Sanborn was through the front door, but Dwight came up with an idea.
“Say, y’all can climb out the back window. It’s big enough for y’all to squeeze through,” he said.
Trent, Nicole, and Marcos followed Dwight closely to the back of the hotel. Trent helped Nicole out first. Once she made it out, she hit the parking lot, which led to Seventh Street. Nicole was able to move through the crowd without being detected. Next, Marcos hopped out the window and slid in between two parked vehicles. He got into Trent’s car. At that point, he could hear sirens. He prayed that Trent would hurry. Trent slid out the window, staying low to the ground. The police were starting to show up, and neither Trent nor Marcos wanted to be behind bars. There was no way of getting out of their predicament until they saw a Los Angeles Metro bus stop ahead of them. They both smiled. Then, they broke out in a full sprint in order to catch the bus before it drove off. They reached the bus just as it was about to pull off. They happily paid the fare and hustled their way to the back of the bus. Old women held on tightly to their purses.
Trent laughed, “C’mon now, grandma. I ain’t gone steal ya purse. I am a thug, but that’s not in my character.” Trent smiled at the lady as she huffed and moved a couple of seats ahead of them.
When the dust cleared, there were countless bodies lying around. Half of Trent’s crew and a few innocent bystanders had lost their lives. While the bus was pulling off, Trent’s heart sank when he saw a pregnant woman lying on the ground with a hole in her head. Trent dropped his head in shame. Marcos called Nicole to make sure she had been able to get Trent’s vehicle. Then, he told her to meet them at the Union Station.