BLOODLINES, BLOOD MONEY & BLOODSHED (Episode 1: A Family Apart)

Chapter 6: Sya Kincaid

A convoy of two black tented out Dodge Chargers and four black tented out Chevy Tahoes made their way down New York's Roosevelt Ave at nearly one o'clock in the morning. Passing countless brightly lit stores and restaurants, they approached Main Street and turned. Even so late at night, traffic was still respectable and customers were still dipping in and out of the Flushing Chinatown establishments.

In the passenger seat of the Charger leading the convoy sat Sergeant Detective Sya Kincaid, a thirty year old woman with both African American and Chinese American blood flowing through her veins. As she stared out her window at the passing buildings and people, she was dressed in a pair of black jeans, black Air Forces, a bullet proof vest over her t-shirt, and a badge dangling from her neck. With her long black hair tied in a ponytail, it hung from underneath the back of her black Ney York Yankees fitted cap.

The smell of marijuana filled the Charger's interior.

"I aint a killa but don't push me. Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to getting' pussy... Tupac said over the music of his classic "Hail Mary", which was playing at a low volume.

An officer in the back seat passed the Blunt over Sya's shoulder to her. Accepting it, she took a heavy pull on it and let its smoke blanket her lungs. Moments later, she exhaled from her nostrils. The smoke created a thick grey veil in front of her eyes. Seconds later, she took another pull and passed the Blunt to the officer driving.

The convoy, each vehicle filled with no less than four officers, belonged to a special task force that Sya was head of. She and her unit were a task force put together to stomp out crime in each of New York City's Chinatowns, mainly the heaviest crimes like human trafficking, heavy distribution of narcotics, gun running and more. They made the big busts and the big seizures.

The convoy made a left onto another busy street.

"A'ight', muthafuckas," Sya said into her radio. "Look alive."

Letting his window down slightly, an officer in the back seat tossed out the Blunt and then rolled the window back up.

"Everybody knows their positions so play them shits the way you're supposed to," Sya continued. "No excuses."

Click-Clack!

Clack-Click!

The sounds of gun slides being cocked filled the interiors of each vehicle.

"Penitentiaries is packed with promise makers, never realized the precious time them bitch niggas was wastin... Pac's voice continued in the Charger. A moment later, the car went silent. No music. No voices.

Passing an alley, the two Chargers and the first two Tahoes continued on while the remaining Tahoes turned into it, their headlights immediately radiating its darkness. Seconds later, the Chargers and accompanying Tahoes turned.

"A'ight, y'all, niggas, it's on," Sya said, her .45 in her right hand. She then tossed her hat and pulled a black ski mask over her face. The other officers in the car with her did the same.

The vehicles quickly approached a brightly lit tattoo parlor. Shortly after, their tires screeched to halt in front of it.

"Go in now!" Sya shouted into her radio.

With that said, Sya and her immediate team leapt from their vehicles and hit the front of the parlor while the other team hit the back.

"NYPD!" officers roared once inside with their guns aimed. "Get on the floor!"

The ski masked Unit was greeted with scowls from angry young Chinese gang members in jeans, sneakers and Timberlands as their shirtless and already heavily tatted bodies were being inked.