No Room for Mercy (9 page)

“I know. But remember, nothing happens to Pepper.”

“Si, boss. We’ll look after her,” Phoebe said.

Carmella looked over to Toodie as she took a long toke off the blunt.

“What?” Toodie asked through a smile.

Carmella exhaled the smoke and said seriously, “I’m sorry
about that thing in Valle Hermoso where I hit you. You know how I
get, but that little girl means something to me, okay? She just means
something to me, so look after her.”

Toodie looked Carmella in the eyes and the two bumped fists. “Nothing
happens to Pepper,” she said as she looked down into her lap
while nodding her head up and down.

Where are these guys?
Carmella then wondered silently as she
sat under the shade with her crew and checked the time on her Cartier
watch.

*******

“
Bring it…we right here…we’re not going
anywhere…we right here…this is something we don’t
share…we right here…bring your crew ‘cause we
don’t care…we right here…”

DMX’s song
Bring It
was thumping hard from the interior
of a black Range Rover on 23” inch chrome wheels as the vehicle
turned off into the abandoned warehouse and paused beside Carmella’s
Ferrari a few minutes after Carmella’s arrival. She and her
crew watched as the four men, one whose name was Bahdoon LuQman,
A.K.A. Q-man, slowly exited the ride on the front passenger side.

Carmella had never seen the Somalis before; she thought them to be a
bunch of dark-skinned, thin men. To the contrary, Q-man and his goons
looked every bit like a few of the fellas who balled on Fox Park with
their brown skin and ripped biceps. They were all sporting either
curly Afros or braids, baggy jeans, sparkling white tennis and ice
white t-shirts with long platinum chains dangling down to their belt
buckles. The Somalis were a handsome bunch, but they also had a
certain style of ruggedness about themselves that Carmella could
appreciate.

Q-man and his crew, all in their twenties, were from The Federal
Republic of Somalia on Africa’s northeastern slope. They’d
immigrated to America with their respective parents in the early
nineties to flee the country’s civil war and were now fully
adapted to the American way of life. They now called Minneapolis,
Minnesota, which they affectionately referred to as “The Ap”,
their home.

It didn’t take long for Q-man to click up with three other
Somalis and form his own crew. They’d started out hanging
together in middle school and began selling marijuana in their
neighborhood by age fifteen. They soon graduated to robbing dope
houses until they linked up with a supplier in New York City and
started their own cocaine distributing operation.

Twenty-two year-old Q-man, a smooth-faced, tan-skinned curly-haired
six-foot two, two hundred pound Somali with curly black hair, was
holding down Minneapolis-Saint Paul on reputation alone. He and his
crew were feared throughout the twin city area and were rumored to
have had removed a rival Hispanic dealer from the game entirely,
having made the man's body inexplicably disappear.

Carmella had gotten Q-man and his crew’s street resumes` from
Toodie and Phoebe early on and she was impressed. They'd killed
before in the cities of Cincinnati and Kansas City on behalf of the
Lapiente` Cartel. If they would all agree to the new deal, she knew
she would have a formidable crew that would allow her to take over
Saint Louis completely.

“You boys are late,” Carmella said as she hopped off the
dock and stood in front of her girls.

“Yeah,” Q-man said nonchalantly as he stretched. “But
we here now so what’s up?”

“Toodie told you of my offer?”

“She mentioned it,” Q-man said as he scratched his nose
and looked off into the distance, never making eye contact with
Carmella.

Carmella looked back at Toodie with a hint of apprehension. “What’s
with your people, Toodie? They act as if they would rather be
somewhere else today.”

“We would,” Q-man said flatly.

“Q-man, get on with it, man,” Toodie said as she and the
rest of the crew jumped down from the dock. “You know the deal
so it’s yes or no.”

“Why would we stop selling to you, so we can buy from you? We
got our own thang going in the Ap. I’m not, I’m not
feeling this shit here.” Q-man said as he bumped his fists
together and spat on the ground to his right.

“The hell you come down here for then,” Carmella asked
with a scowl on her face as she approached Q-man. “You knew the
deal before you got here so what’s up? You need me to say it
again? We done buying from you and your people. And it can only be
one supplier here in Saint Louis from this day forth.”

“We ain’t losing much if we concede to that. Just a few
bricks here and there.” Q-man said as he looked to the ground.

Carmella laughed to herself at that moment because she knew her crew
was Q-man’s top buyers. She understood fully that if she were
to cut Q-man’s water off like she was planning on doing, he’d
be sitting on at least ten extra kilograms until he could find new
buyers. It was a bargaining chip she could use to her advantage.

“Okay, let’s talk numbers,” Carmella said
seriously. “You were selling to us for twenty-five, which means
you probably paying seventeen or eighteen for your work. I give it to
you for twelve g’s flat, plus I give up the markets in
Cincinnati and Kansas City. I’m done there in those places.”

The number twelve thousand caught Q-man’s attention. He now
looked Carmella in the eyes. “Twelve on a brick?” he
asked with raised eyebrows.

“You like that price, don’t you?” Carmella reasoned
with a sly grin. “See? Your work comes from here,” she
said as she pointed to the gravel beneath her feet.

“I don’t get my work from nowhere near here,” Q-man
corrected.

“You’re not understanding my point,” Carmella
chuckled. “If you deal with me, you will get your cocaine at a
lower rate given my connections, but if you feel that you can outdo
me here in Saint Louis? We will have to tool up and go to war because
this city belongs to me and my girls.”

Toodie and Phoebe, along with the rest of the females in the crew,
all pulled out nickel-plated .9mm Beretta handguns with infrared
beams and went and stood behind Carmella.

“Go to war, huh?” Q-man said as he looked back at his
boys. “They some bad bitches, fellas,” he remarked as his
three goons nodded in agreement. Q-man and his squad were strapped
too, but Carmella had the ups. He never had intentions on waging a
war because he knew if he got in good with Toodie’s connect, he
and his boys would move up a notch in the game.

“Put your iron away and let’s talk,” Q-man
requested.

“I prefer for us to hold on to them while we talk,”
Carmella replied as she spit on the ground. “What is your
answer?” she asked as she clutched her Uzi, staring Q-man dead
in the eyes.

Q-man understood that if he refused Carmella’s deal on this
day, he and his boys would have to shoot it out just to have a chance
on making it out of the warehouse district alive. To refuse Carmella
would be suicide no doubt, and the price she offered him per kilogram
was an offer he couldn’t resist. Rather than kick off beef with
potential partners, Q-man opted for diplomacy. He stared Carmella in
the eyes and said, “Me and my boys have mouths to feed back
home in the Ap. Now, your numbers sound good and all, but what’s
the guarantee we gone get the price you quoting?”

“All I have is my word, which is law. If you buy from me, you
will continue to kill for me and my girls like you’ve been
doing whenever we need you to do so.”

“See? You can’t make all the stipulations because me and
my dogs have just as much weight as you got in this deal.”

“That weight being?”

“We done bodied niggas in Kansas City and Cincinnati for your
family back in Mexico to keep y’all in power. We gone be
partners in this shit, and we don’t answer to no fuckin’
body but ourselves. You give us bricks on the low and we will kill
anybody you ask—but that’s gone be extra. Taking out
clicks is a high risk business that warrants extra compensation.
That’s our deal. If you don’t agree with it? Then go
‘head and handle your business.”

“If you run your own crew and we have to pay you extra for
contracts, then you don’t sell where I say you can’t
sell. I’ll give you bricks for twelve and connects in Kansas
City and Cincinnati, but you will not sell in any other city we
control. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

“Final answer?” Q-man joked as he slowly reached into his
baggy jeans pocket and pulled out a blunt and fired it up.

Carmella wasn’t laughing. She was dead serious about the deal
she was trying to forge and if Q-man didn’t agree, she was
thinking that she may just spray them all and get on with the rest of
her plans.

“Twelve thousand does sound good. We can cut six off the top
real quick and won’t have to worry about transporting that shit
from the Bronx. What you think, fam? Roll with it?” Q-man asked
his boys.

“We keep our power and gain two more cities? And all we have to
do is kill for Carmella and get paid for it?” one of Q-man’s
soldiers asked. “Q, jump on that A-S-A-P.”

Q-man dapped his crew and turned to Carmella and nodded. “It’s
a deal,” he said.

“Cool. You call Toodie for your first shipment. I expect to
hear from you within a month.”

With Q-man and his crew now on her team, Carmella began making moves
on the streets of Saint Louis in order to get up-close and personal
to her rivals over in Saint Charles in order to hit them head on when
the time was right.

CHAPTER SIX

FAMILY TIME

The O’Jays’ song
Christmas Just ain’t Christmas
was the first song played early Thanksgiving afternoon in 2001 down
in Ponca City to kick off the holiday season. The friends and family
from Chicago were in town and it was the usual festive familial
atmosphere inside Ponderosa. Snow covered the ground outside and it
was an usually cold day with temperatures in the low teens. Inside
the mansion, however, the mood was warm and serene. Some of the
family was busy cooking in the downstairs kitchen while Naomi,
Francine and Mildred erected the family’s Christmas tree on the
second floor with the aide of the young five while the big three were
all downstairs with their father and his friends in the living room
putting up the second tree and wrapping gifts.

“You think Kimi and Koko will like these new laptops, Doss?”
Lucky asked as he wrapped one of the gifts.

“The way they like to get online and shop I’d say
absolutely.”

“Cool beans. They fell offa truck so ain’t no receipt on
these bad boys.”

“Always looking for a discount, huh? Cheap-skate.”
Mendoza said as he hung gold-plated bells onto the fresh pine
branches.

“I wonder who taught me that, dad.” Lucky replied as the
men all chuckled.

“Dad,” Dawk said, “before we left Chicago, me and
granddad shipped some guns down to Saint Charles, but we never heard
back from Eddie.”

“Eddie called me,” Doss responded. “They got ‘em.
Eddie thought it was an early Christmas gift.”

“Well, it was, you guys,” DeeDee chimed in. “Eddie
put on some new soldiers outta Fox Park last month and he said
they’re good earners so we sent gifts for those youngsters.”

“That’s what we need—more soldiers. Benito and
Gaggi running a smooth ship.” Mendoza remarked.

“Umm, hmm. And Eddie’s taking a lead role. You too, son.”
Lucky told Junior just as Martha and Twiggy entered the home.

“Okay! Now the holidays can really begin!” Martha yelled.
“I want a drink, already!”

“I see the hams and turkeys is here already, Mar,” Twiggy
joked as she pointed to the men in the living room. “Not
DeeDee, though! I like pimp daddy!”

“Girl, you is gone get what you looking for you keep flirtin’
with this old man,” DeeDee said through laughter as he poured
Twiggy and Martha glasses of warm eggnog cut with brandy.

In September of 2001, Naomi had purchased Twiggy and Martha a brand
new Peterbilt truck complete with bunk beds, refrigerator, TV, CB,
six disc CD changer and radar detector. Twiggy was now training
Martha to drive, but the two had come off the road for the winter and
wouldn’t start back up until the spring. Naomi would find the
two freight and they would run the Midwest and West Coast. They’d
been away for two months traveling the country and visiting various
cities and had returned home for the holidays.

“The children will be glad to see you two,” Doss said as
he went and hugged the women.

“We been missing everybody,” Martha said as she hugged
the men.

“How’s life on the road been treating you two ladies?”
Mendoza asked.

“We have been having the time of our lives, Mendoza,”
forty-three year-old Twiggy answered happily. “Me and Martha
have seen so many beautiful cities and have been learning so much
about this part of the country. It's really beautiful out on the
road. It is a wonderful experience.” Twiggy had turned her life
around completely. The person she once was in Ghost Town was no more.
She really saw no future for herself back the day. She always thought
she would die violently like the rest of her family, but jail had
saved her life. She had been welcomed into the family with open arms
and given a brand new start. She had more to live for now than ever
before and wouldn't change a thing about her life at this point in
time.

“We took a lot of pictures,” Martha said as she held out
a scrap book. “We've visited Mount Rushmore, rode across the
Golden Gate bridge, visited the Grand Canyon and a bunch of other
places. We saw and we did a lot while we were out there. Check out
the pictures, y’all.”

The men stopped what they were doing and sat around and looked at the
scrap book with Twiggy and Martha for a while before the women headed
upstairs after greeting Mary, Regina and Siloam in the kitchen. When
the two emerged from the grand staircase the young five went wild.
They ran towards the two and were all over them as they entered the
great room.