"Freeze walkin’ around in a suit like a legitimate business man."
"That one wasn’t easy."
"I can imagine."
"Cuisine is a nice place. I thought Mike was crazy when he told me that he wanted Freeze to run the restaurant. But Freeze stepped up," Wanda continued.
"I don’t think he’s happy about it."
"Maybe. He may not be happy, but what he is, is fiercely loyal to Black."
"Unlike me, right?"
"You tell me, Nick? You’re the only one who can answer that question."
I walked away from the window and sat down. Wanda followed behind me and reclaimed her spot on the couch.
"Regrets?" Wanda asked.
"No. Not really. I mean, the way things were. Everyday was the same, more violence and more murder."
"The only difference is, your life didn’t change. You did your violence and murder for the government."
"Yeah, right."
"Well, it’s true. The Army recognized your skills. Enforcer, soldier, killer, assassin. Call it what you want to, Nick. But they programmed you with their objectives and put you right back to work. But you see, things changed here after André. We were out of the drug business and we started moving into more legitimate businesses."
"That’s the part I didn’t see coming. When Black said we were getting out of the drug business, I thought it would just be gambling and women and he’d just go right on high jacking trucks and robbin’ warehouses. ’Cause let’s face it, Black was a thief." I started laughing.
"Always was." Wanda joined me; laughing so hard she almost spilled her coffee.
"Damn the nigga could steal."
Although Black made most of his money on gambling, he was always on the lookout for something he could steal. His preference was high jacking trucks. He knew a woman who worked as a waitress at a truck stop. She would feed Black information. Using her feminine charms she would find out from truckers what they were going to be carrying, and what route they were going to take. This was the most important factor in his plan. With that information, Black would set it up so the truck would have to stop and then we’d have them. His favorite was a half-naked white woman in distress. You know, short shirt, titties hangin’ out all over the place. What man could resist a white woman in distress? Once the driver was out of the cab, either me, Jamaica or Bobby would come up on the driver from behind and take it him.
Once the driver was secure, Bobby would drive the truck away. Which didn’t go smoothly at first, but it got better as Bobby learned how to handle the big rigs. Now, once Bobby was gone in the truck, Black would always ask, "Is that your rig or the companies?" If it was the driver’s rig, Black would tell the driver where he could find it, if not, he would sell the truck for parts.
Even though he didn’t like doin’ it, Black would sometimes rob warehouses. But only if it presented a tempting enough prize, and it definitely had to be minimal risk involved. Black was never one to take risks that would put himself or his organization at risk. "Remember, no risk," Black would say before we went on any job. "Bail ain’t cheap." The reason that he didn’t like robbin’ warehouse was because; "Time waitin’ to load the truck was time waitin’ to get caught," he’d say. And gettin’ caught was never on his list of things to do.
Black had gotten some information that there was a warehouse that offered just such an opportunity. His first thought was to wait and see if his informant could give us a target to hit, but when that didn’t happen, Black decided that it was too much money involved to pass on, so it was on.
The information came to from a woman who worked as a routing supervisor at the warehouse. Black got his hooks into her because of her favorite pass time. Gambling. She owed Black five grand, so one Sunday afternoon, around dinnertime; Black and I paid her a visit.
After a very filling meal, Ayana was a great cook; she set it out for us. "Black, look, I know I owe you some money. And to be honest with you, I just ain’t got it." Which caused Black to put his gun on the table. Which wasn’t any big deal, ’cause Black would never shot a woman. If that became necessary he’d get me or Freeze to do it for him. "But I do have something that maybe worth something to you."
"And what might that be, Ayana?" Black asked.
"Yow know I work at a warehouse in Jersey. Well there’s a shipment full of electronic equipment comin’ in. You know, flat screen televisions, DVD’s boom-boxes and digital cameras, just come in from China. After the shipment passes though customs and all that shit, it’s taken to this warehouse and I schedule it to be shipped out to locations around the country. My position gives me the inside track on what’s in house, and what’s worth taking."
After making sure that he wasn’t playing in anybody else’s backyard, Black formed a plan. He got her to draw a map of the warehouse and to identify the good stuff from the junk by marking the target pallets with a piece of black tape. This saved us a lot of time. Black simply walked around
and told me, ’cause I learned to drive the forklift, which one to pick up, while Bobby took over the security shack at the gate and Jamaica stood guard at the door.
By one o’clock the truck was half full and everything was going smoothly until the forklift died on me. Black and I looked around for another forklift. "You find one?" Black asked.
"No," I told him.
"Try to get this one working." I tried everything I knew, which wasn’t much, to get it running.