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Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 1

Page 14

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Bacardi was livid. She hated the police. “Y’all ain’t got no fuckin’ right to be in my fuckin’ house!”

“Place your arms behind your back,” Officer Myles demanded.

Bacardi didn’t relent. The officers grabbed her arms and spun her around, pushed her against the wall, and threw on the handcuffs. Claire and Charlie protested their mother’s arrest and were ready to throw down again, but they too were read their rights. The girls weren’t going down silently, though. Every foul word they could think of spewed from out their mouths.

“Fuckin’ nasty-ass pigs! Y’all some bitch-ass muthafuckas!”

“Black lives matter, you stupid fuckin’ assholes! Fuck you and your cunt of a mother that fuckin’ gave birth to you,” Charlie shouted. “Go fuck yourself!”

The crowd could only stand around and watch, hoping that it ended with the three girls being arrested. The place was a melting pot of drugs and liquor, and Keisha had become enemy number-one by involving the police and bringing unwanted drama to a lively party where everyone wanted to have a good time.

“I need for everyone to back up!” shouted Officer Krokowsi.

The weed smoke was so thick inside the apartment that the four officers were catching a contact high. Looking at the faces of a few guests, they saw possible warrants and potential overtime.

The ladies were escorted into the hallway, where their foul mouths continued to spew hatred and resentment at the cops.

“Yo Charlie, just chill and be quiet, a’ight? I got y’all. I’m gonna get y’all out,” God said to them.

“Fuck these niggas, God! I hate bitch-ass police!” Charlie continued to carry on.

God and Fingers were dirty, along with a few other individuals inside the apartment. Fingers had a pistol on him, and God had a gram of cocaine. The last thing they needed was a criminal charge. They wanted the girls to shut their mouths and go quietly, but it wasn’t happening. The girls’ spiteful rants echoed throughout the hallway non-stop.

Bacardi screamed, “I’ma fuck that

bitch up again!”

“Keep talking!” shouted Officer Krokowsi.

The insults were starting to anger the cops. Officer Duke, who wanted to get promoted to detective, had the brilliant idea to interrogate the other folks inside the apartment and implement random searches to see what kind of goodies they came up with.

“Call in for a paddy wagon,” he said to the others.

Officer Duke wanted to search anyone who looked to be under the influence of an illegal substance or suspicious with a warrant. But the other three officers started to look nervous; there were too many people in the small environment, and they didn’t have absolute control of the area. They wanted to make their arrest and leave.

“You sure about this?” asked Officer Fletcher.

Officer Duke intensely stared at the others and repeated, “I said call it in!”

Officer Duke then turned to the crowd and yelled at them, “Okay, I want everyone to get against the wall and stay there.”

“We ain’t do nothing,” shouted someone from within the crowd.

“Keisha, you done fucked up everybody’s shmood, bitch!” someone else yelled.

“Let’s not make this difficult, people!” retorted Officer Duke.

“Y’all making this shit difficult!” exclaimed another voice from the crowd.

“Yo fuck you, cop!” a voice roared from the other side of the room.

The rumbling of complaints and anger started to rise, and Officers Myles, Fletcher, and Krokowsi were growing concerned. They had their hands on their weapons and their heads were on a swivel. They were in enemy territory, and backup wouldn’t be able to come fast enough.

Officer Duke continued to be an asshole, shouting, “I said let’s not make this shit difficult, people!” He was already in defense mode, ready to react if or when things got ugly.

But cooperation with the crowd wasn’t going to come easy. In fact, the hordes of folks started to grow antsy, and before the officers could get a handle on the situation, all hell broke loose. The entire crowd charged toward the officers, pushing and shoving by them and hurrying out the exit, down the hallway, and down the stairway. God and Fingers ran too. Three of the cops gave chase while Fletcher stayed with the three perps in handcuffs.

Within a minute, rapid gunshots rang out from the stairway—Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! And chaos continued to ensue.



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