The Finale (8 page)

Derek Fuller got an inside tip from one of his snitches on Malek's new spot. That's why he was sitting outside of Malek's establishment and waiting to see if he would show up. Fuller had just left a rendezvous with Scar and found out that all of their spots had been robbed within a matter of twenty-four hours. Fuller instantly knew that Malek was a bigger problem than he thought. He had to take him down if he wanted to keep his stake in Scar's drug business profitable.

“Come on, youngblood. What's taking you so long?” Fuller whispered to himself as he staked out the house and sipped on a cup of coffee.

Scar had requested that Fuller not only shake up Malek's business, but bust him and lock him up. Scar wanted Malek off the streets for good.

Fuller had been posted there for about six hours, and there was no sign of Malek, so he moved to plan B. He picked up his walkie-talkie and let his team know it was time to move in on the spot, although Malek wasn't inside.

“Fuck it! We can't wait on that son of a bitch any longer. Let's move in!” Fuller ordered into the transmitter.

“Roger that, captain,” a man said on the other end.

Within seconds, vans whipped onto the block, filling the air with the sound of screeching tires. The side doors slid open on each of the three unmarked vans, and the narcs jumped out with bulletproof vests and their guns drawn, ready for action.

A crew held a battering ram and headed for the front door. On a three count, the police burst through the door, rushing into Malek's crack house. Women were inside cooking coke naked, while cocaine-filled tables and microwaves occupied the spacious studio-style house.

“Everybody on the ground!” Rodriguez grabbed up a girl by the hair when she tried to run to the back door. She yelled, “Don't play with me, dumb bitch!” and flung the girl to the floor by her hair. “Check the back!”

Meanwhile, Fuller drove around the corner, waiting to see if anyone would try to flee from the back of the house, and just as he thought, a man with a duffel bag jumped the gate and tried to get away. Fuller quickly put the pedal to the metal and headed straight for the fleeing man.

As he got closer, he saw it was Dayvid, Malek's little man. “Bingo!” he said, knowing he got a consolation prize by locating Dayvid.

Dayvid saw the car speeding toward him. “Fuck!” He instantly began to put on his best Carl Lewis impersonation and took off full speed.

Fuller quickly whipped behind him and hit him, causing him to fly up in the air and onto the windshield. Fuller stopped, and Dayvid rolled off the car and hit the ground with the bag still in his hands.

Dayvid winced in pain from the extreme back pains the collision caused. “Fuck!” he said as he lay on the ground holding his back.

“Don't move!” Fuller yelled, his gun drawn and pointed directly at Dayvid's head. He snatched the bag and tossed it on the hood of his car. He then flipped Dayvid around and placed handcuffs on him just before patting him down to make sure he didn't have any weapons.

Fuller then stood up and caught his breath. He peeked into the bag and saw nothing but rubber-banded money. “Damn, y'all over there getting it, huh?” he said.

“Fuck you, pig!” Dayvid yelled, showcasing his deep hatred for police.

Fuller chuckled at Dayvid's remark and then gave him a swift kick to the mouth, causing blood to spurt from it instantly.

“I know you. You're Dayvid Porter, right?' Fuller said, already knowing who Dayvid was because he had the whole rundown on Malek's crew. “Where is Malek?” Fuller bent down on one knee and grabbed Dayvid by the back of his neck.

Dayvid ran his tongue across his bloody teeth. “I don't know a Malek.”

“Oh, so you want to play games with me?” Fuller nodded his head up and down, getting angrier by the second. He quickly bashed Dayvid's head into the cement, causing a bloody gash to form on his forehead.

Dayvid grimaced in pain, but shortly after, he began to smile, knowing he was getting under Fuller's skin by not giving up Malek's whereabouts.

“You can give your man up and tell me where he is, or go down to the station. It's all on you!” Fuller yelled as he began to grip tighter around the back of Dayvid's neck.

“I ain't telling you shit!” Dayvid spat out more blood.

Fuller had had enough and realized that Dayvid was loyal to Malek. “We will see how loyal you are.” He yanked Dayvid off the ground and stuffed him into the back seat. They were about to take a little ride down to the station.

 

 

Fuller had Dayvid in a chair in the middle of the interrogation room of the police precinct. “You're looking at three to five, Dayvid.” He rested both of his hands on the cold steel table. “You were maintaining a drug house, and I found thirty grand in your possession.”

Fuller was itching to get Malek in the worst way, but Dayvid wasn't budging. He had a clean record, and he knew that he would only get a slap on a wrist for what Fuller was trying to pin him with.

Fuller continued to circle around the youngster. “Just give Malek up, and you can go scot-free. I will forget about what I found on you, and it would be as if you were never there.”

“I don't know a Malek.” Dayvid grinned. He would never in a million years cross his big homie. Never. He began to block out all Fuller was saying and began to think back to the first time he'd met Malek.

Dayvid sat sunken low in the tinted Grand Am, watching Malek closely. “I'm about to take all of that shit,” he whispered to himself as he gripped the all-black .357 handgun. He had a ski mask rolled on the top of his head and was waiting for the right moment to ambush Malek.

Dayvid had been following him for days, and he was waiting until Malek led him straight to his home, because Dayvid thought that was where he most likely kept his stash. Dayvid needed that money in the worst way. The city was dry, and he was hungry. He had been watching Malek closely and knew he was an out-of-towner that came to B-more moving coke.

Dayvid had trailed Malek as he stopped at five different crack houses. It was the first of the month, so he knew Malek was picking up his trap from his spots. In Dayvid's eyes, that day was the perfect day to rob him.

The sun was just setting as Dayvid followed Malek to a nice-sized brick house.

“This must be where the nigga stay,” Dayvid said to himself, as he witnessed Malek pull into the driveway and hop out of his car with the duffel bag in hand.

Dayvid was parked about a half a block down, but he still had a clear view of Malek getting out of the car. He made sure his gun was locked and loaded and got out of his car as soon as he saw Malek enter the home. There were no more cars in the driveway or on the curb, so he assumed Malek was there alone.

“He must be about to go count or stash the money inside,” Dayvid said as he crept to the back of the house.

Dayvid's young mind didn't think logically, and he didn't care what he was getting himself into. He just knew Malek was getting money, and he wanted a piece of it.

He crept to the back, where there was a swimming pool and a glass patio. He quickly dipped into the back patio and saw the sliding double doors that led into the home. He slowly approached the double doors and glanced into the home, to see if the coast was clear.

After a few seconds of observing, Dayvid pulled out a lockpick, but when he gently slid the door, he noticed it was unlocked.
Hell yeah,
he thought to himself. It was his lucky day, and everything was going perfect.

He slowly stepped around the kitchen's porcelain counter and heard the sound of a money counter purring. Malek had to be dealing with big paper, a stickup kid's dream. He smiled as he pulled down his ski mask, thinking about how much paper he was about to get.

Dayvid crept to the room with his gun in hand. He saw Malek at the table with his back turned toward him, putting the money in rubber bands as it came out of the machine. He slowly and carefully snuck up behind Malek, his gun pointed directly at Malek's head.

The money machine stopped, and the room grew quiet as Malek paused.

Without even turning around to face Dayvid, Malek said without an ounce of fear in his heart or shakiness in his voice, “I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

What the fuck?
Dayvid thought to himself. He wondered how Malek knew he was sneaking up behind him. “Come up off all of that dough, homeboy,” he yelled, his hand shaking nervously.

“You sure you want to do this, young nigga?” Malek carefully swung around in his chair, so he could look the young robber in his eyes.

“Fuck all the talking, nigga! Put the money in the bag!” Dayvid said, avoiding eye contact with Malek.

“Look, you have two choices. You can rob me of this money and then deal with the consequences of taking money from a nigga like me.” Malek folded his hands together. “Or you can put that gun down, and I will give you a job. I will let you work for me and show you how to get money rather than take it.

“One thing about robbing, once your stolen money is gone, you're right back to square one and broke again. But if you learn how to get money, you will never be broke.” Malek looked the youngster straight in the eye and recognized the fear within them.

Malek's logic made a lot of sense to Dayvid, who wanted to get out of the robbing business desperately and get into the hustle game. He had always fantasized about moving up in the ranks and becoming a kingpin, so Malek's offer was very tempting. But the possibility of Malek just talking to get out of the situation had him hesitant.

“How do I know if I put the gun down, you won't try to kill me?”

“You are just going to have to trust me.”

Malek spoke with a supreme calmness that had Dayvid petrified. All of Dayvid's instincts told him to just rob Malek and turn down the offer, but his heart told him otherwise. He used his free hand to pull his ski mask to the top of his head, and then he lowered his gun.

Malek instantly knew he had accepted his offer. “Good choice, youngblood.” He turned around and began to rubber-band the money.

Dayvid stood there confused, as he didn't know what to do next.

Malek finally spoke up after a few seconds of silence. “Believe me, you made the right choice,” he said. “I want you to take a look behind you.”

Dayvid frowned his face up, not knowing what Malek was getting to. Dayvid did as he was told, and when he turned around, his heart almost dropped to the floor. There was a man standing there with a Mossberg pump aimed directly at his chest. Dayvid flinched as he looked down at the steel that was now pressed against his chest.

“I knew you were coming. I saw you from a mile away. If you had tried to rob me, karma would have come instantly, and my man would've blown your brains out. But I respect your bravery, and I'ma keep my word.” Malek pulled out the chair from underneath the table for Dayvid. “Have a seat.”

The man holding the shotgun lowered his weapon, and Dayvid joined Malek at the table. That was the beginning of a relationship that would become closer than close. Since that day, Malek and Dayvid had become inseparable, and Malek showed his youngster how to get to the monster, molding him to be Baltimore's next kingpin.

Dayvid snapped out of his dream and focused on the present.

Fuller was right in his face with an intense stare. “So what's it going to be? The ball is in your court.” He waited for a response from the young Dayvid.

“Suck my dick!” Dayvid calmly said, looking through Fuller as if he weren't even there. Dayvid wasn't going to roll on his man.

Fuller became enraged, knowing that Dayvid was young and also that as a first-time offender, would get just a slap on the wrist, and that only infuriated him even more. He gave Dayvid a swift jab to the eye, for good measure, and stormed out of the room.

Dayvid took the punch like a man, and after the stars wore off, he thought about what Malek had taught him: stay loyal, which was exactly what he'd just done.