A Trap Within A Trap

Chapter 24

Sitting in the passenger seat Jaquez focused on looking dead ahead while Fish pulled off at now two miles per hour, with a snickering laugh. "Bitch! You ain't funny." "Awe." Fish said in his low raspy voice "Why I gotta be a bitch now!?" his smile heard around his words. They sat for a while on the way to the realtor office they owned to wash money through. They often used the back office there to meet. Fish thought closing the chicken and waffle shack was stupid. He missed sitting with Mrs. Williams in the kitchen playing her old down home blues, as he and his boys got they eat on in the back booth of all the chicken they could put down. But Jaquez wanted to do it like white folks with the conference room, long conference table, and now catered food. Jaquez said when every bodies in a different setting they think different. 'Prah'ly something his gini bitch told him. He don't know how that sneaky bitch is pra'ly just fuckin him to keep dibs, den go run tell dat.'

"Come on now Jah baby, tell uncle Fish what da deal is?" Jaquez didn't crack a smile still lost in his anger, considering the consequences of just not going back to his new home. 'She can have it! And I can start putting my new life together. Then it just slipped out his mouth "I hate that bitch." He said low and convincing. "I know that's reaaaalll!" Fish said. Something he'd never say in front of anybody else. Jaquez begrudgingly laughed "Shut up ... fuck you!" He was snapped out of his funk. "I'm gonna start rentin shit I like this too!" He said looking around at the mahogany panels and electronic display on the dash, and GPS map updating as they drove. "Can this bitch move?!" without a word Fish hit the gas pushing Jaquez into his chair. Just when he screamed "Wooo!" as the SUV shot well passed the highways speed limit, now came true shots which blew out the rear window. They both reflexively scooted down in their chairs. This wasn't the first or the last time they'd been shot at. "Who the fuck is that?!" Jaquez yelled over the wind and revving engine. "Prah'ly yo Gambino friends." Fish said controlled and in control. Jaquez caught the God Father referenced jab at him for being chummy with the Autoro's. 'If yo ass did half the politic'an I got too, you'd be half the fuckin business, bitch!' he thought quickly as he rolled to pull his Glock and bust off a couple of shots, just to let'em know they was heatin.

The red 84 Monte Carlo SS swerved as two shots hit the hood toward the driver. "These stupid mutha fuckas, really think they fuckin wit some fourf's! They in a fuckin open ass convertible!" "They WHAT!" Fish returned, starring at Jaquez half smiling even though under fire. "Dumbass, just watch the road, what the fuck is doin! You is really Loco!"

"Nah, dis loco holmes." Fish replied with a weak Mexican accent. He hit the brakes and the Monte Carlo careened into them, pulling the Monte Carlo's passengers out their chairs. They grabbed onto whatever they could to stay inside the Latin classic . "What the fuck!" Jaquez pleaded high pitched. Closer now the Monte Carlo's occupants gathered their resolve and started busting more shots, with better aim. "You said you wanted to see loco! You know yo ass can't drive better than me!" Fish exclaimed obviously excited and enjoying himself as only a man with a death wish could. Jaquez got an idea "Turn off at Atlantic Av, next two exits!" Fish hit the gas and opened her wide open making the rear wheels peel off. Fucking Italian engineering, this was a Porche, and so built for speed not efficiency! "Where we goin Jah?" Fish said then busting his Colt from his right hand across himself and out the driver side rear window. Jaquez was impressed, one shot hit one of the dudes in the arm that was in the back seat, and the other blew off the drivers head rest. If he hadn't ducked that would've been his ass. Their front passenger whipped a Kalashnikoff out, and unloaded swinging slow across the rear like he was trying to cut the roof off. He shot out all the reaming windows, as he finished off his clip. "We goin to pick up Meeka!" Jaquez replied. Fish smiled wide showing his grill, "Ha bitch, now YOU, crazy!"

They pulled off the B.Q.E. at the Atlantic Avenue exit and took a few turns short of Fulton Avenue. Brooklyn's premier shopping district for the hood. "Now turn right ..." Jaquez started "I know where we goin son, chill." Swerving in and out of traffic Fish went against traffic to loose the Monte Carlo. Fish thought to himself that if he had bout this car he'd have the illegal kit installed, to push like it did off the assembly line before it got to customs. 'We woulda, BEEN dusted dees fuck boy chulo's.' he thought still in a Mexican west coast gangster accent. They never got close enough to bust shots again, but they stayed on them. "Pull into that alley next to Sals." Fish knowingly nodded his head as confirmation

Sals was a family owned Garage that started in the neighborhood when it was all Italian-polish in the 30's. The owner and his family stayed around, and was known for helping the new West-Indian working families moving into the neighborhood with their cars on a first of the month payment plan. When Jaquez was sent by his mother to Mr. Sals as a boy, all the way from Park Slope a couple of neighborhoods over by bicycle holding her family secreted peach cobbler as a partial payment of sorts. Fish and Jaquez bought Sal out a few years back and now used it now as a chop shop, keeping the name for more than just tax purposes.

Fish pulled up to the garage, slowed and Jaquez jumped out "Make a circle then jump back on the B.Q.E.." seemed like Fish pulled off before he finished the sentence. He jumped back when he heard a car hydro-planning its way closer. He hid down and behind a big green dumpster in the alleyway beside the garage.

The Monte Carlo screamed by dumping all its horses into catching what used to be a sleek slick shining example of luxury sport utility vehicles, before it was shot up. He jumped the fence and was in Sals backyard garage among piled, stripped cars that needed to stay off the streets. Two snarling ugly brown and white peppered pitts trotted up to Jaquez. He grabbed one by the neck half dragging him a foot out of tough loving recognition as he ran in the back door. "Oh Shit!" Zeek said tearing his welding helmet up into its locked position above his head revealing the sweaty pale skin of a man who had been welding for hours. Zeek worked diligently removing parts from stolen cars and getting them ready for sale resale, like everyone else within the operation. He had to torch up a classic 65 mustang frame cuz it's engine was worth a quicker untraceable penny than any other part of the machine. "Fuck Jah! What the ..."

"Yo shut the fuck up and get me a choppah!" Zeek went from scared to funny cuz he figured Jaquez was pullin some shit, to scare him like they always did him being the garage chump. He realized the boss was serious and sweating in his two stack Sean John sweat suite, which was a no no. He put the torch down still half on, and went to do what he was told. Jaquez ran into the main garage where the shops main work was.

A Bentley Continental GT, Ferrari 458 Italia, and Ford Explorer with gold rims all on lifts and all stolen mostly from the island. "Murder?!" He called but with all the pneumatics and torch noise it was useless, he fired his last three shots into the air (unfortunately the ceiling) empting his clip. All work stopped "Murder!? Where you at?! ... Mike!" A man too old and fat to run even just from the couch to the front door came flying round the corner already out of breath and sweating. A short man so black he was purple, balding in stained dark blue overalls responded. "O God Jah! Your gonna give me a heart attack baby!" He said more feminine than his rough exterior revealed, while placing his open palm over his heart.

"Send somebody for Meeka's keys!" Jaquez yelled "Okay okay okay baby, calm down...", "Now!" The man formerly known as Murder before his sex change yelled at someone behind him in the office. That dude threw the keys to Mike who then underhanded them to Jaquez. Zeek came up with a double-barreled sawed off shotgun. "This is the best I could get, but if you could chill a minute ...", "NAH, one shot is all I need."