“Didn’t I tell you mutha fuckas no gun play?” Cowboy asked, yanking the wheel from left to right to avoid cars and people.
“It was Frankie’s fault, she let that nigga get the drop on her,” Thor accused, wiping the blood of his hammer with his jacket.
“Fuck you, you fat son of a bitch. You weren’t there, so how the fuck would you know what happened?” Frankie asked, pulling off the black wig, exposing her own hair which was braided beneath it
“We can point fingers later, we’ve got company,” Cowboy said, craning his neck to look out the rear window. Two police cars were hot on their asses and closing the distance at an alarming rate.
“We gotta shake these niggaz,” Duce said, clutching his .45 tighter than he needed too. He didn’t know if it was the impending assassination of their leader, or the fact of knowing that if they got caught there would be no beating this charge, but he was nervous as hell.
“I got this,” Frankie said, taking the shotgun from the rose box and hanging out the rear window. Of everyone in the car, Frankie was the best shot. Her late father was a police officer and had taught her how to shoot a gun at an early age. Bracing the shotgun against her shoulder, she pulled the trigger. The windshield of the first police car shattered causing them to spin out. Another blast shredded their radiator taking them out of the chase, but the second car was still following.
“Come on, boo. They’re still on us!” Cowboy said, nearly missing a woman who was crossing the street with her children.
“Hold this mutha fucka steady so I can do my thing,” she said, trying to draw a bead on the police car which was swerving in and out of traffic just as expertly as they were. “That nigga is good, but I’m better.” Frankie fired off another blast, but this time she wasn’t aiming at the police car. The round hit the windshield of a bus that was pulling out in traffic, wounding the driver. The bus swerved and crashed at an awkward angle blocking the entire street. “Told you,” she said triumphantly.
Everyone in the car let out a breath of relieve. Duce looked back through the shattered windshield and watched the smoking bus and police lights shrink in the distance. He was glad that they had escaped, but even more so because the police hadn’t killed Cowboy before he had gotten a chance to. Cowboy gotten away with money, but Duce would get away with the prize.
TWENTY
Cos was up with the chickens that morning, busting his ass to go meet Cowboy. Their leader had given them all instructions to meet at his place so they could split the take from the Macy’s robbery. Because of the brave/stupid security guard, they didn’t get what they planned but they’d still snagged $175 grand, giving them $35,000 a piece. He wouldn’t be retiring anytime soon, but it was still a respectable haul.
It was already 7:30 a.m. and Thor still hadn’t arrived at Cos’ place. When his Honda had mysteriously broken down on him the night before, Cos called Thor and asked if he would swing by the crib and snatch him, but as usual Thor was late. “Fucking idiot,” Cos mumbled, checking the clip of his .45. He figured he’d give the big man ten more minutes before he jumped in a cab.
Cos settled in his recliner and clicked on his big screen television. It was the latest in Hi-Def technology. Just one more perk to leading a life of crime. The morning news was on and, as usual, it was depressing as hell. After seeing something about a little girl who had been killed by her mother’s jealous boyfriend, he shut the television off. It was Christmas morning and he didn’t need something like that ruining his mood for the day.
Cos was about to go into the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee before calling a cab when there was a loud knock at his door. He never had visitors, especially unexpected so he un-holstered his gun before creeping to the door. Cos had made it within a few feet of the door when it came crashing in. A swarm of blue uniforms flooded his apartment, shouting and brandishing weapons.
“Drop the gun and eat the fucking floor!” one cop shouted, pointing his gun directly at Cos. The cop’s hand shook nervously making Cos wonder if he would shoot him by accident. Knowing when he was facing insurmountable odds, Cos dropped to his knees and raised his hands over his head. The cops wasted no time tackling him roughly to the ground.
“Take it easy, I’m not resisting,” Cos said as the cop shoved his knee into his back harder than he needed to.
“The other one isn’t here,” one of the officers said after a quick examination of the bedroom.
“What the hell is going on here?” Cos asked.
“Costello Brown, we have a warrant for your arrest,” the lead officer informed him.
“What the fuck for?”
“For armed robbery and accessory to murder.”
Cos’ eyes got as wide as saucers as he instinctively calculated the time he’d be facing. He was a notorious thief, so he could understand the robbery, but the murder baffled him. “Hold on, man, you’ve got the wrong guy!” Cos pleaded.
“Well, we have a witness that says differently,” the officer said in a smug tone. The police lifted Cos roughly from the ground and dragged him from his apartment.
Cos’ mind raced trying to think of anything that he might have done wrong to have him in such a fucked up predicament but, when you had done as much dirt as he had, there was no way to tell. The only thing he could do is keep his mouth closed and wait to see what happened.
Thor sped through the streets of Harlem cursing himself and the bitch that had made him late on such an important day. He just hoped that Cos wouldn’t be too mad at him when he got there. As soon as he bent the corner of Cos’ block, his jaw dropped. There were at least five vehicles and fifteen officers milling about in front of his building. He slouched in his seat and coasted by to see what was going on.
In the center of the sea of blue was Cos. His hands were cuffed and there were two cops wearing shit-eating grins escorting him to one of the cruisers. Cos made eye contact with the big man, but didn’t stare. Thor knew without having to be told that he needed to reach Cowboy with all possible haste.
“That was some stupid shit, Frankie!” Cowboy yelled, holding his drenched cell phone between his fingers.
“Baby, you don’t have to curse at me. It’s not like I did it on purpose.” She had been in the kitchen doing the dishes and talking to her brother on the phone when she accidentally dropped Cowboy’s phone in the sink.
“It was still some stupid shit. I don’t know why you were on my phone anyway,” he placed the cell on the radiator hoping that it would help.
“Because the battery is dead on mine, and your ass is too cheap to get a land line,” she shot back.
Cowboy wanted to slap the shit out of her, but a fight with Frankie was the last thing he needed that morning. The last time they had gotten into it, he winded up having to go to the hospital to be treated for the gash on his head she had given him when she hurled a lamp at him.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go down to the pay phone to call Cos and Thor. They should’ve been here by now,” Cowboy told her.
“Cos called while I was on the phone and said they’d be here in a little while,” she lied. The only person she had spoken to other than her brother that morning had been Duce telling her that Cos and Thor would be detained. The night before, he had sabotaged the engine on Cos’ Honda. Cos had called Duce and asked him for a ride to the meeting, but he fed him an excuse, leaving only Thor to pick him up. They were going to be quite surprised when the police rushed them on the way out.