2-6 Mafia, page 1
2-6 Mafia: Murder on the Horizon
By:
Selo Sunkist
Cadmus Publishing
www.cadmuspublishing.com
Copyright © 2022 Selo Sunkist
Published by Cadmus Publishing
www.cadmuspublishing.com
Port Angeles, WA
ISBN: 978-1-63751-174-9
All rights reserved. Copyright under Berne Copyright Convention, Universal Copyright Convention, and Pan-American Copyright Convention. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction; therefore, names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my family and loved ones I have met along life’s journey. Mountains have been moved. I give a special thanks to Jalyse McDougald for giving birth to our beautiful daughter Zionna. Daddy loves you and everything I do is for you. Thanks to Cadmus Publishing for being a part of my dreams and for bringing a dream to a reality.
When two dark and dangerous paths collide loyalty and deception lay in the balance. Cumberland County becomes a war zone between two rivals. The Fayetteville Police Department and a lethal criminal organization are in an all-out blood spill over money and power. Family becomes enemies, best friends become snakes. When your life is on the line, who can you trust? Revenge lay in the heart of corrupted cops revealing a blood-thirsty motive to kill. Come take a ride with the author on a journey that will captivate your mind. Welcome to the “26.”
Joe Smith aka Selo Sunkist is:
CEO of Zionna International Organization
Negotiating National Assistance LLC
And Zionna’s Fashion Boutique
Author
Community Activist
Entrepreneur
Philanthropist
Poet
Chapter 1
The chief of the Fayetteville Police Department sat patiently at his desk waiting on Ms. Martinez to enter his office. William Grey was in his late forties and held the title as the youngest police chief in Cumberland County. For the last two years Grey made the streets of Fayetteville manageable for citizens to perform their daily tasks. Grey eliminated the fear of being robbed as you are pumping your gas at the local gas station or just going on a morning run.
William Grey was from the streets of New York and knew the hood like the back of his hand. He had seen it all and now that he sits in an influential and prestigious seat, he planned to run it all. Looking at his exclusive Omega Moonwatch he saw that it was going on 10 o’clock. He exhaled with frustration. Time is money and God knows you can’t get an hour back.
His office door opened, and his secretary stood in the doorway with an unpleasant expression. She was getting ready to speak when Grey’s phone rang. She shot him a look wishing he would pick that phone up. Noticing her demeanor, he declined the phone call. Ms. Alexus White had been his secretary for the last year and he knew when she was pissed. “How may I help you, Ms. White?”
“For starters you can say good morning, and for seconds your daughter has been blowing up the office phone for the last hour trying to reach you. Your 10 o’clock is here as well. Should I send her in?”
“Yeah, you can send her in,” Grey replied. Grey cleared his desk. Cleanliness is next to godliness, he thought. Seconds later he heard a knock on the door.
“You can come in.” Grey sat back in his chair and waited for Ms. Alisha Martinez to enter.
“Sorry I was late but 401 was backed up this morning,” Martinez said while holding her hand out to greet the chief of police.
Grey stood and accepted her hand. “Nice to meet you. You may have a seat.”
Martinez sat and adjusted herself to meet her comfort. Once she was settled, she reached in her purse to retrieve a letter of recommendation given to her by her aunt and Cumberland County district attorney Amanda Koontz. She handed the letter to Grey. What was Amanda up to this time, Grey thought as he accepted the letter.
Dear Mr. Grey,
Keep her safe and under your wing. I owe you one.
He closed the letter and placed it in his pocket.
“I see you know people in high places,” Grey said as he opened his laptop and waited for her to reply.
“I guess you can say that,” adding more of her Hispanic accent than was needed.
Alisha Martinez was the definition of exquisite. She was black and Hispanic. Standing at five-foot-seven she had a body to die for. She was light skinned in complexion, skin the color of Beyonce. She weighed 165 pounds and would put you in the mind of a young Priyanka Jonas. Her jet-black hair was waist length. She had emerald-green eyes that matched her mother’s.
Grey cleared his throat and dropped his stare. “You will be working directly under me and will take orders from me. I have formed an undercover unit called Operation Black Ops. You will be working as an undercover intelligence officer. The unit is very hands-on and is in the street heavily. You will have to be fast on your feet and be a quick thinker. Our field officer is Stacy Fisher. He will train you. You will learn how to maneuver in dangerous situations. I’m looking at your file and I see you have taken Social Interaction. You will be dealing with all walks of life who will take your life without a second thought. You will need those skills. Officer Stanburg is the captain over this unit. He will be in touch. You will start your training in 24 hours, so get a good night’s rest.”
“Ms. Martinez, you came recommended so I expect nothing but greatness from you.” Grey stood, reaching in his desk to retrieve a golden shield. “Here! Wear it with pride,” Grey said while passing Martinez her badge.
Her eyes lit up with joy knowing all of her hard work had finally paid off. She was speechless but relished the moment. “Thank you, sir,” she said exuberantly. She stood there in perfect peace, lost in her own thoughts.
Grey gave her body a quick look over. He appreciated the true beauty of a woman. He could feel his dick getting hard and knew it was time for Martinez to go. He broke his stare and opened the office door for her to leave.
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity, and I promise I would never underestimate the level of gradation you have shown.
“You are welcome, and don’t forget to get a good night’s rest. Believe me, you’re going to need it.”
“I will, Mr. Grey,” Martinez acknowledged Ms. White as she exited the office. Grey watched as she left. Damn, she bad.
“Hello? Are you going to call your daughter or are you going to keep your eyes glued on that young girl’s ass?” Ms. White said, snapping her fingers in Grey’s face.
He shut the office door in her face and returned to work.
Chapter 2
“Baby, can we stop and get something to eat? I’m starving.” Trearina had been driving for the last three hours. She was hungry, sleepy, and had to piss like crazy. Passing the last exit she saw a couple of food spots, so she tried her luck knowing if it was up to Sunkist, they would keep it pushing until they reached Fayetteville.
He was focused on getting these 20 bricks back to Fayetteville. Sunkist looked over at the fuel level. “Yeah, I guess we can make a pit stop. We got to fill up anyway.”
Trearina cut her eyes at Sunkist, knowing if it wasn’t for the chance, they would run out of gas her ass would still be heading down I-95. Niggas ain’t shit, she thought as she pulled into a Shell gas station.
Sunkist jumped out to pump the gas. “You want anything?” Trearina asked.
“Nah, I’m good,” Sunkist said while turning his attention to his cell. He checked the time—6:45 p.m. He would be in the Ville in about 35 more minutes. Everything was looking good. He decided to call Pressure.
Pressure was one of his homies from Durham. They met back in the day on the yard at Craven while they were processing. He’d seen that Pressure was a real dude, so he put him on the team and introduced him to the rest of the criminal family. Pressure’s position was to oversee that the bricks got moved correctly with less liability.
Sunkist scrolled down his list of contacts and tapped on Pressure. Pressure picked up on the second ring.
“What’s good, big homie? Salute Capital Hz.”
“Capital Hz. Look, I’m about 35 minutes from the Ville so be ready when we pull up. Matter of fact, I’m going to have Trearina drop me off at my spot in Hope Mills. I got some shit to handle before this nigga skip town.”
“Facts, homie. Shit, you know I got shit covered on my end.”
“Fuck! Look, homie, I got to go.”
Sunkist ended the call as a state trooper pulled up beside him. The trooper parked and got out. Trearina came out the store talking on her phone. “Bitch, that nigga lame if he still waiting,” Trearina said.
“Oh, so you Megan Thee Stallion now,” Anna said on the other end of the phone, making fun of her friend Trearina.
“You real funny. At least he not no…” Trearina stopped in her tracks when she saw the state trooper at the gas pump. She caught eye contact with Sunkist. He looked at her then towards the driver’s seat. She picked up on the nonverbal communication. Trearina could hear Anna saying something on the other end of the phone. She hit the end button, disconnecting the call. She could hear he
She looked through the passenger side window, hoping to see if Sunkist was coming. The passenger side mirror was too far out. She was too scared to turn around, so she kept both hands on the wheel and stared forward.
Sunkist placed the pump back on the station. The air seemed to get cooler as the time passed. Sunkist opened the door to the SUV and got inside. “Let’s go,” he barked. Trearina put the SUV in drive. A knock came from the passenger side window.
Trearina didn’t know what to do. She was frozen to her seat. She looked at Sunkist who played it cool. Sunkist let down his window. “May I help you, officer?”
“You may need this,” the officer said and held up Sunkist’s cellphone. “You left it on top of the gas pump.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sunkist said as he got his phone from the officer.
“Y’all have a nice night,” the officer said as he returned to his vehicle.
Sunkist let up his window and exhaled, finally releasing his finger off the trigger of his XD-40.
Trearina pulled out of the gas station and hopped back on I-95.
Sunkist laid his seat back and closed his eyes, zoned out to the sound of Lil Baby lyrics. As he rode his thoughts reflected the past. Life was short and in this lifestyle life can be snatched from you in the blink of an eye.
Sunkist was born at the Children’s Hospital in Philly. His mother at that time was on drugs and embraced the streets like the lines on a highway. His father was a hands-on type of guy from North Carolina. You know, the guy you can call for anything. He can fix your car, repair your roof, and sell drugs.
His father was from a small town called Bunnlevel. A place where everybody knew everybody. You had to be careful dating ‘cause the bloodlines run deep and close together. When Sunkist was old enough to fend for himself, he jumped off the porch headfirst and deep into the streets. He found Fayetteville and embraced it as home. Many years later his family relocated to the Ville and started a new chapter in their lives.
“Wake up, Joe.” Trearina was one of the few people that could call Sunkist by his government.
“A’ight, look! I need you to take the work to Pressure and drop it off. I got some shit to handle.” Sunkist opened the door and got out, closing the door behind him.
Trearina was mad ‘cause she thought once they dropped the work off she was gonna get some dick. Now she was shit out of luck. Even though she was made, her loyalty was forever Sunkist’s. He had broken her heart. She had fallen deep in love with him before she even knew it. She told herself she would never let herself go, but some things you just couldn’t help.
He was light skinned with honey-brown eyes. He had long dreads and stood approximately five-foot-nine. Yeah, the nigga was fine, but that shit come a dime a dozen. It was the way he walked. The way his swag pulls you in. The way he spoke that made your pussy crave him. The nigga had a key to my house. Had my credit cards and bank account information. My children loved him, and my mother gave her approval. Shit! I didn’t even know his real name. More or less, I hadn’t even fucked him yet.
She snapped out of her trip down memory lane and pulled off. Sunkist reached in his pocket retrieving the keyless remote to his Alfa Romeo. The car was one of his pride and joys. He had it customized with trap compartments specialized for his guns. The car was black on black and blended perfectly with the night. He hopped in and pulled off.
Chapter 3
That’s my best friend. She’s a real bad bitch. Got her own money. Fire sang along to one of her favorite songs as she got dressed. Born Unique Spellmen, Fire was one of the baddest bitches in Fayetteville. She was black and Asian, 152 pounds. She stood five-foot-six with thick hips and a small waist. Her honey-brown dreads came to her shoulders which matched her honey-brown eyes. She was the true definition of beauty.
In her 22 years life had built her to manage the worst storms. When you look up the word gangsta you get the definition that defines her. She never knew her father, just heard stories of him by her mother. He was some sort of Army official. With him being in the Army, her mother moved to Fayetteville. She was very close to her mother, so the “26” became her home as well.
The men in this city were a disappointment. The women, on the other hand, were a different story. She had never seen so many bad bitches in one place. She was bisexual but never could be in a relationship with a woman. Females gossip too much for her. She hadn’t been with a man since she was 20.
She had married her high school sweetheart and became a housewife. After an ordeal between them that broke their relationship, her pussy wouldn’t get wet for a man after her relationship demise. She began questioning her sexuality. She found that she enjoyed the comfort of being in a man’s presence, but her pussy dripped for a woman.
She could see a set of car lights pulling into her driveway. She went to the window, slid the curtain aside, and peeked out. She knew that there were only two people that knew where she stayed—her mother and Sunkist. Seeing the Alfa Romeo pulling into her driveway she knew her man was home.
She hurried to get dressed knowing time was valuable, ‘specially on this nigga’s watch. She went to her closet and retrieved two Glock 40s. She held them up and kissed them—my pride and joy. Since she didn’t have kids, she grew to love guns. She took a minute to look around her house before leaving. She cut the lights off and locked her door. She was dressed in all black. Only thing that stood out was the tip of her dreads peeking from under her hoodie.
She got in the car. “What’s up, baby daddy?” Fire was being extravagant in her greeting. Sunkist looked at Fire with diversity thinking to himself, she is a creature of impetuousness when it comes to her loyalty. Normally when it was time to handle business all games end, but they knew each other like the back of their hands.
Sunkist chose to stick to the code of the streets, ignoring his wants to be playful. He knew an atrocious situation never come half-stepping ‘cause your life can be in the hands of another.
Sunkist spoke with fortitude in his voice letting Fire know playtime was over. “You ready? ‘Cause tonight’s agenda is murder in the first degree.”
Fire pulled back the hammer…click. She checked the pistol to see if one was in the head. She smiled, satisfied at what she saw. “Nigga! You ready?” she spoke with venom. It was simply amazing how she could transform into a beast within seconds.
“Look, I’m not trying to question you on this shit, but who the fuck is Mad-Max?” Fire asked. “I mean, I know the nigga A.p. ‘cause I use to get my hair done by his girl, Star.”
“A’ight, listen. The nigga A.P. had Mad-Max robbing all the dope boys in the Ville. Well, him and the little nigga Sosa. When they got locked up A.p. flipped and went state, snitching on Mad-Max and Sosa. Word get back up north to Killa Ru, now Killa Ru wants that nigga’s head. We got allegiance with them, so it came across my desk from the big homie NappBasher. That’s big country, Lil homie, so you know shit is real.”
“Say no more, let’s handle this,” Fire spit.
Sunkist received a text. He checked the message.
Text: the nigga A.p. just pulled up to his mama house over here behind Douglas Bird.
Sunkist quickly texted back: We on our way
Sunkist’s sister Helena had been following A.p. all night waiting for the perfect moment when he would be most vulnerable. This was the moment, plus his two shooters was locked up. Helena sat, patiently waiting for her brother to pull up. Earlier that afternoon she had stolen a late model Buick from a Super Walmart parking lot. It was perfect for this type of activity.
Helena could see her brother pulling up. She quickly exited the car as her brother parked on the opposite side of the street. Helena seen two figures exit the car and knew the other person had to be Fire. Helena threw the keys to her brother, spoke, and got the hell out of sight.
