The tears weren’t just because she was scared for him, but because her heart was broken. The feds had tried to goad her to talk by telling her about Sal and her girlfriend, Stacy, and the daughter he had by her.

  Sal backtracked as he looked into his baby boy’s eyes, wondering if he would ever see him again. He had no time to do anything but head back to his Jaguar. “I want you to get on the phone, call the federal agents back, and tell ‘em I’m at your house,” he instructed.

  “Wh…What?” Brenda asked, confused.

  “Just do it. It’s the only way they’ll let you keep the baby. Now do it,” he said before taking off back down the alley.

  Peeking out from the alley, he saw that there was no one around, so he quickly stepped out and headed for his car around the corner. As soon as he hit the next block, he spotted two federal agents, checking out his vehicle. Before they could reach for their hips, Sal had his Glock aimed and fired two shots without any reservation. Two bodies slumped to the ground. Sal didn’t have an ounce of self-doubt about his aim. Growing up under rebels, being taught how to shoot a gun was like being taught how to ride a bike. Sal tucked the gun in his waistband, and headed for the driver’s side door as both agents lay lifeless with a single bullet to their heads.

  He quickly hopped in the Jag and started the engine. As soon as he pulled out of the parking space, several shots pierced the windshield and the vehicles fiberglass shell. Popping the car in reverse, he backed off the block, spun it around on Wister Street, and peeled off, leaving a murder scene that he knew had raised havoc with the feds.

  Maybe he was done, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. Pulling up to one of his stash houses, he jumped out. Just then, unmarked FBI cars screeched around the corner. Sal pulled out his Glock and fired a few rounds before dashing to the house and barricading himself inside.

  Within minutes, the entire block was surrounded with more government officials than a presidential election. A helicopter circled overhead, as well. Four agents approached the front door, holding a large metal battering ram, what the Philadelphia police department called the, Key to the City. Tactical officers in full uniform lined up behind those four, poised for an ambush with their modified Bushmaster M-4 assault rifles and .40 cal handguns. “On three,” shouted one of the officers holding the door hammer.

  “One…Two…Three!”

  They slammed the ram into the door, busting it open. That triggered the pin to a homemade bomb hidden inside. Within seconds, the whole area surrounding the house was engulfed in flames.

  Baboom!

  Chapter 12

  3 YEARS LATER

  Pearl peeked out of the master bedroom window of the White family mansion for the 15th time in 30 minutes. She was waiting for her husband. It was a very stressful time for her. Her husband’s war with the Russian mafia was nerve-wracking. Her daughter, Diamond, sat on the bed with her brother’s toy Nerf gun in her hand, watching her mother pace back and forth. At six years old, Diamond was way ahead of everyone else in her class at school. Her teacher advised Pearl that she should get bumped to the next grade.

  “Damn it, Charles, where are you?” Pearl snapped, grabbing some folded clothes to refold.

  “Damn it, Charles, where are you?” Diamond repeated as she shot one of the Nerf bullets at the mirror.

  “You better watch your mouth, young lady, before I clean it out with some mantequilla,” Pearl threatened.

  Diamond frowned; she knew what mantequilla meant in Spanish. Butter. Diamond hated butter. “And what did I tell you about playing with those damn guns? You are a lady, and you need to act like one,” Pearl said while reaching out to take the toy away from her.

  Diamond snatched the gun out of reach, causing Pearl to jump back with surprise. “No!” Diamond said, jumping off the bed and holding the gun behind her.

  “Oh, that’s how you’re gonna act with me, huh, little girl? I’m your mother,” Pearl said disapprovingly.

  Diamond pouted her lips and put on her award-winning sad face, the one that worked like magic with her father.

  “But, mommy, Bonnie has guns. She’s still a lady,” Diamond whined.

  “Girl, Bonnie is 27 years old. She can do whatever she wants. You’re only six, and you have to listen to your mother. Now give me that gun,” Pearl ordered, holding her hand out.

  Diamond looked her mother straight in the eye and shook her head no. Not even the old butter trick that she had been using ever since Diamond first bit into a stick of butter, thinking it was a candy bar, would work anymore. Pearl didn’t believe in spanking her children, especially after everything she had been through in the past. Looking into the sparkling eyes of the tan-skinned little girl with long, dark, silky tresses done up in curls, she couldn’t push the issue. Once again, Diamond had won.

  The truth was that she was Pearl’s only peace and sanity. Pearl barely got to see her husband anymore, and when she did, they always argued. With her hands on her hips, all Pearl could do was shake her head.

  “Well, I guess if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything, right?”

  Diamond nodded and flashed a Shirley Temple smile. “Right,” Diamond agreed just as Charles walked in the bedroom with a smile, two hands tucked behind his back.

  Pearl jumped from her bad nerves. “Oh, Jesus, Charles. You scared me,” she said as he rushed up and kissed her on the lips.

  Diamond approached quickly. “Daddy!” she sang as she embraced him.

  “There’s my little girl,” he said, removing the box from behind his back. “This is for you.” He handed her a cops and robbers kit.

  Diamond’s face lit up when she saw the two guns inside. She took the box and headed for the bed to open it.

  “Where’s my gift?” Pearl asked, pouting like her daughter.

  Charles reached in his pocket. “I didn’t forget about my second favorite girl. This is for you,” he said, handing Pearl a small box with a Cartier diamond necklace inside.

  After opening it, she gave him another hug and a more passionate kiss.

  “Daddy, I don’t have anybody to be the cop,” Diamond complained, breaking the romantic spell.

  When the two looked over at her, she was holding up the cuffs and the guns. Pearl shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you bought that girl some guns. It’s bad enough she runs around shooting everyone with her brother’s guns. Why are you gonna go and encourage her?”

  “Because that’s what she likes, Pearl. What do you want me to do? You bought her over a hundred dolls and all she does is pop off their heads, arms and legs, tie them up, or set them on fire. How she knows how to use the stove is a mystery in itself,” Charles explained.

  “But Charles…” Pearl whined.

  Before Charles could respond, the maid walked into the room. “Excuse me, Mr. White. You have an important call in your office,” she said before walking back out.

  Mr. White looked at his wife, who looked concerned. “It’ll be alright. It’s just a phone call,” he said, heading for his office down the hall. Once inside, he closed the door and locked it.

  “Hello?”

  “Jeez, it took you long enough,” the woman said from the other end.

  “Sorry, I just got in the house,” Charles whispered.

  “Well, what time are you catching the flight? I’ve been dying to see you,” she admitted.

  “Just give me a second. I have to explain the shit to my wife. You know how worried she gets. I may have to bring my daughter.”

  The woman sucked her teeth and warned him, “Well, you better hurry up before you find me on your doorstep.”

  Charles smiled before hanging up the phone.

  Taking a deep breath, he knew what he had to do when he got back to the master bedroom.

  Before he could speak, Pearl hissed and walked over to her dresser.

  “Baby, I really have to meet these people in Philadelphia. There’s a big deal goin’ down. I swear nothing’s gonna happen. It’s not that type of meeting. Everything’s strictly legit,” Charles explained.

  “Oh, yeah, well, if it’s not that type of meeting, then you won’t have any problem taking your daughter with you. Since Clyde is staying over his friend’s house, that gives me some time to myself. I’m tired of being the only one cooped up in this damn place.” Pearl shouted as she began to pack some clothes.

  “Pearl, you know I can’t take--”

  “I don’t care anymore. We went half on this one, honey. You’re the boss right? Well hire a babysitter, for all I care. I’ve been taking care of her for six whole years. It’s time she gets a taste of what her daddy does for a living, since she wants to be you so bad.” Pearl walked to the closet filled with all the shoes she never got to wear.

  Charles made eye contact with his daughter, who shrugged her shoulders as she held two guns in her hand. Shaking his head, he thought, what am I gonna do with you, little girl?

  Chapter 13

  COLOMBIA

  In a country infamous for kidnapping, Colombia ranked fourth in the world in high-profile murders of politicians and drug lords. A large estate was hidden in the jungle of Cali, surrounded by four mammoth walls. Inside those walls, armed men patrolled the perimeter as their boss, Verningo Castor, dressed in white linen, entertained his guest.

  Castor supplied almost twenty percent of the world’s cocaine, thanks to his Cali cartel and paramilitary mercenaries who continuously waged war on the government in a long bloody conflict, making Cali the most feared spot in Colombia.

  As Castor and his guest, Zelinski, walked through the botanical garden, Zelinski got straight to the point. “Something has to be done about this guy, Charles White. For six whole years, we’ve been at war, and for six years, we’ve failed to get this guy. He’s killing my business in America. And if he’s killing my business, he’s killing yours. Now he’s the head of something even bigger.”

  “To be honest with you, Mr. Zelinski, I’m not ready for Charles to die yet,” Castor replied. Zelinski stopped dead in his tracks and glared at the tall Colombian with the dark hair.

  “I’m sorry, but I thought we were on the same page. I thought you were the one who sent your assassins to kill him,” Zelinski said.

  “Those were amateurs just trying to prove their loyalty to me. And trust me, it would cost me more to keep them. Right now, I have a plan that doesn’t consist only of Charles, but his whole organization, which they call the Underworld. Until my plan is complete, Charles will continue to breathe. I suggest you lay low for a while and rebuild your army. Don’t worry, when Charles’ time runs out, you’ll be the first to know,” Castor said, extending his hand.

  Zelinski looked at it for a second. He didn’t like the idea, but shook Castor’s hand, anyway, before leaving. Castor watched Zelinski make his way towards the door and wondered if the Russians could be trusted. At that moment, he doubted it, but still continued to let them live.

  Chapter 14

  PHILADELPHIA

  As the private jet touched down on the runway of Philadelphia International Airport and taxied to a hangar where the stretch midnight-blue Bentley Continental was accompanied by two Range Rovers. The steps descended, and Two-Gun Sam was the first to exit, followed by six other thugs who were licensed to carry. Mr. White and his daughter were the last.

  Once they were in the limousine, the driver pulled out of the hangar and headed for the exit while the Range Rovers followed.

  “Daddy, where are we going?” Diamond asked as she looked out the window of the vehicle, kicking her feet, taking in the huge City of Brotherly Love.

  “We’re going to a friend’s house, but you have to promise daddy that this will be our little secret, okay?” Charles said.

  “You mean, don’t tell Mommy?”

  “You want to be a big girl, right?” Charles asked.

  Diamond nodded her head.

  “Well, then, big girls don’t go telling their moms everything. They keep the code of silence, which is never tell what you see. Okay?”

  “Okay, Daddy, but are we still going to the zoo like you said,” Diamond asked innocently.

  Charles smiled at his beautiful little girl. “Of course, we are.”

  After a 30-minute drive from the airport, the Bentley pulled into a north Philadelphia area that was almost 65% Hispanic called The Badlandz. Diamond had never seen so much action going on. It was like watching adult TV. There were crackheads trying to cop some rock and dope fiends trying to buy some of the finest heroin in the city. Dope-boys of all races hustled on the corners. Hookers sold their bodies, while thieves sold stolen merchandise. Diamond had always been accustomed to the finer things in life, but now, being in such poverty, made her feel like she landed on another planet. Thus, came all the questions that a naïve six-year-old would ask. Mr. White answered her questions as honestly as he could. What he didn’t tell her was that this was the zoo he promised to take her to, and his drugs were the cause of all that was going on.

  Once they pulled up to a modern, two-story row house on Cambria, Mr. White had his driver pull over and park. When his two bodyguards stepped out of the car, Mr. White grabbed his daughter’s hand. “C’mon, baby girl. Be good when you get in here.”

  Diamond took her father’s hand, stepped out of the limo, and followed him up to the front door. After knocking twice, the door opened to reveal a pretty slim, brown-skinned woman with a short hairstyle. The woman smiled as she stepped to the side, allowing Mr. White to enter with his daughter.

  “I thought you were lying when you said you were bringing your daughter with you,” the woman stated.

  Mr. White smiled as Diamond scanned the small living room, staying close to her father. She had never seen a place so small before. Her eyes stopped by the couch where a little boy was playing Nintendo’s Super Mario Brothers on a 32-inch television. As Mr. White and the woman chatted, Diamond drifted over to the kid with the cornrows down to his shoulders. No sooner than he focused his eyes back on the screen, Super Mario was dead. Sucking his teeth, he looked back over at the girl who was quietly staring at the TV. He then scooted over.

  “You can sit down if you want,” he invited.

  Diamond eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then sat down.

  “You know how to play this?” he asked.

  Diamond shook her head no. The boy quickly showed her what buttons to push, then handed her the rectangular joystick. Diamond smiled as she played the game that her brother never let her play while the five-year-old schooled her on what to push and what to watch out for. A half an hour later, the two were the best of friends.

  “What’s your name?” the little boy asked.

  “Diamond, what’s yours?” she asked as she played with his braids.

  “My name is Kenneth, but everybody calls me Butter.”

  “Butter?” Diamond frowned.

  “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

  “I don’t like butter. My mother always threatens to wash my mouth out with it when I say bad words,” Diamond explained. “I know. How about I call you Montega?”

  “Montega? What’s that mean?” he asked with a frown.

  “It means butter in Spanish,” she said.

  What the boy didn’t know was that Diamond had accidently butchered the actual word for butter in Spanish, which was mantequilla.

  The kid stared at the little girl and paused. “How old are you?”

  “I’m six years old, how old are you?”

  “Five,” Butter replied. “When is your birthday?”

  “March 30th. What’s yours?”

  “July 14th. Hey, you wanna play Duck Hunt? I’ll let you shoot,” he offered, pulling out the red gun and handing it to her.

  “Sure,” Diamond said.

  As he showed her how to shoot, Mr. White walked in with Brenda to check on them. When he saw the two having fun, he and Brenda snuck upstairs to finish what they had started in the kitchen. Bored with duck hunting, Diamond yawned and stretched her arms. “I don’t wanna hunt ducks anymore,” she complained.

  “Well, what else you wanna do?” Butter asked, getting to his feet.

  “I know, let’s play house,” Diamond suggested with glee.

  Butter wasn’t feeling the idea. “Nah, that’s for girls and weak niggas. My mom said that a weak nigga would let a woman tie a noose around his neck and let him hang after she spent all his hard-earned money,” Butter explained.

  “Well, do you have any guns? We can play cops and robbers,” Diamond suggested. Butter’s face lit up.

  He took off running out the living room and into the closet, where he kept his stash of guns: cap guns and water pistols. Diamond’s eyes widened when he pulled the bin into the living room. “Okay, I’ll be the robber and you be the cop,” he said, pulling out two guns.

  “I don’t wanna be a cop. My dad said that cops are spineless cowards who hide behind a badge,” Diamond protested.

  “Well, I don’t want to be a cop either. I hate cops.”

  Diamond looked around the room and searched for a solution. “Okay, since neither one of us wants to be a cop, then why don’t we both be bad guys?” We can shoot at each other and not have to worry about the cops. That’s how my daddy does it.”

  “Okay, you got the money, and I gotta get it from you,” Butter stated, as he made up the rules.

  For a whole hour, the two shot it out with each other downstairs. Butter chased Diamond back into the living room while busting his two guns. He tripped over the carpet and went headfirst into the corner of the coffee table, knocking himself out cold.

  Diamond, who was busy giggling, turned around to see that her friend was no longer chasing her. “Montega?” she shouted, as she looked around for him. “Montega, where are you?”

 

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