What's Really Hood!: A Collection of Tales From the Streets (19 page)

“Just ’cause you tired don’t mean you should let the police shoot you down like some motherfucking dog,” said Jihad firmly.
“You know we ain’t have no win but you still wanted to play cowboy.”

“Nigga, you don’t get it, do you? I’m ready to go. I can’t keep living with all these ghosts. Never knowing when some nigga
I done murdered is gonna come back to haunt me. Every day I wake up wondering if today is the day I’m gonna die or go to jail.
You act like that shit don’t bother you, dawg. But I ain’t you!” hollered Crook as tears of anger welled up in his eyes.

Unable to respond to his longtime friend’s breakdown, Jihad placed his head in his hands and stared at the floor as he tried
to figure out their next move.

Meanwhile, Tree and Teku were already on it. They began to assemble ten of their most trusted soldiers and devise the craziest,
most daring plan ever conceived.

The twins had waited patiently in the treeline, but Jihad and Crook never came. They heard sirens in the distance and realized
that Jihad and Crook had been caught. What for they still didn’t know. After making some calls they had all the information
they needed. Now here they were, ready to attempt the impossible. But had the tables been turned, there was no doubt that
Jihad and Crook would have done the same. Twelve determined men walked out of the house and into the waiting vehicles.

The cars were stolen. The clique always made it a point to be prepared for drama. Part of this preparation entailed the storage
of a few hot rides in various garages they owned. To be from the hood, Jihad, Crook and the twins owned over four hundred
thousand dollars in property. In reality they could have all been legit had they chosen to do so. Several hours had passed
since Crook and Jihad had been arrested. By the time they arrived at the police station most of the hype had died down. They
could see three cruisers in the lot, the rest already returned to patrol their assigned sectors.

Inside, only a handful of officers remained. Tempers flared high as thoughts of the two criminals they had apprehended made
the officers want to take justice into their own hands and do away with “this trash.”

Crook was the first to be questioned as Officer Green took him into a small office and drilled him. When the interrogation
first started, Green tried to play buddy-buddy with Crook, also known as Michael Drake. He started off by saying, “Look, Mike,
I know you ain’t pull the trigger. All you got to do is tell on your man. You know he don’t care nothing about you.”

“Fuck you, pig,” spat Crook as Officer Green erupted into anger.

“Look, you little piece of shit. You think you just offed some petty-ass dope boy, let me bring you up to date. That dope
boy was an undercover DEA agent named Percy Smith. And the woman was his fiancée.”

Crook stared at the officer unfazed before he finally said, “I guess y’all bleed too.”

Losing all control, Green stood over Crook and kicked him in the chest as Crook fell backward onto the floor. As Crook lay
there trying to come to his feet, Green began to approach. An excessive commotion outside the door made him hesitate.

Going to investigate, Officer Green opened the door and as he did so he was greeted by a masked man wielding an assault rifle.
“Back the fuck up,” ordered the masked man.

Officer Green was no dummy. He didn’t know the identity of his attacker, but he could see his eyes. They were cold and without
mercy. He knew that if he didn’t comply, his life would be over.

“Cuff that pussy and take his shit,” ordered the masked man. Crook stared at one of the twins in disbelief. Unlike Green,
he knew exactly who was under the mask. After standing, Crook threw a right punch square on Green’s jaw, causing him to fall
to his knees, following through with a kick to his face. Green lay sprawled out on the floor, lying in his own blood and piss.

After paying Green back, Crook did as the twin told him and walked out into the common area only to see eleven other masked
men with guns ready for war. Jihad had already been retrieved and the unsuspecting officers had been bound with their own
cuffs and stripped of their arms. They had taken over the police station with military and strategic hood precision.

“Let’s go,” ordered one of the twins as the young army turned and exited the station.

Once they were in the cars, things were no less tense
as the threat of opposition still hung in the air. They were almost at the garages when Crook finally looked at Jihad and
said, “That nigga we killed was a Fed.”

“What?” asked Jihad unbelievingly.

“You heard me,” replied Crook. “He was an undercover DEA agent.”

“Fuck it,” replied Jihad nervously. “Ain’t shit we can do about it now.”

Finished talking, the crew arrived at the garages and once inside, Crook and Jihad were loaded into a waiting truck where
Teku and Tree’s sister, Love, waited anxiously with a smile on her face.

“Y’all niggas is crazy!” she said, not able to believe they had pulled it off. When the twins had first told her their plan,
she tried to reason with them but they weren’t much for reason. When they left the spot and told her to go to the garages
and wait, she truly believed the next time she would see her brothers would be through bars or in a casket.

“You gonna drive?” asked Jihad as he pulled Love out of her trance.

Without answering Love began the drive toward one of the safe houses, located up the river about thirty minutes away in Donora.
By the time they reached the house, both Jihad and Crook were high-strung. The trip had seemed to take an eternity, which
gave them time to realize the predicament they were in. In a rush, the three of them hurried inside and collapsed on the sofa.

Love looked at the two best friends and asked, “What now?”

W
hile Jihad, Crook and Love thought of their next move, Tree and Teku were busy trying to clean up any evidence that might
link them to the assault on the police precinct.

Once nightfall came they sent three soldiers to get rid of the cars used during the breakout. Each drove in a different direction
so that the cars were scattered all over Pittsburgh. The next move the twins made was cleaning out their crib. Eventually
the police were gonna come knocking and warrants would be issued and served. Nobody wanted to get caught slippin’. And just
a little over three hours later the twins’ door came crashing down as a full SWAT team entered the premises, preceded by a
barrage of tear gas canisters.

Although expected, the police’s sudden entrance startled the two brothers as the tear gas caused them to suffocate. As they
clutched their throats and gasped for air, the intruders beat them viciously with their batons.

Eventually the attackers relented and the twins were
escorted into separate rooms and interrogated. However, instead of being questioned, the twins were threatened and given
demands. When they didn’t cooperate they were beaten. And still they didn’t break, so they were left for dead.

No arrests were made. The police didn’t have any evidence to hold Teku or Tree, but things were personal. As the officers
filtered out of the twins’ home, they vowed to break the crew “one way or another.”

The twins lay on the floor in pain, knowing they had started a war. However, neither man cared. As children they had seen
the police murder their father during a simple traffic stop, having mistaken him for a stickup boy who had just robbed a local
convenience store. Since that day the twins had rebelled against any type of authority.

Tree was the first of the two to find his footing and make his way into the living room to check on his brother. He then cradled
Teku’s head in his lap, promising revenge. At the sound of his brother’s promise, Teku opened his eyes and began to smile.

As time passed the twins realized they would live. With lots of bumps and bruises to mend. Teku took a trip to the emergency
room to have his head stitched up, but most of the injuries were minor.

That night in the hood, all hell broke loose as any brother affiliated with Point Blank Mob was snatched off the street and
questioned about Jihad and Crook’s whereabouts. In all, twenty-seven brothers were arrested
for firearm and drug violations due to the searches that were performed prior to questioning. By the time KDKA aired the
eleven o’clock news, Jihad and Crook were the city’s most sought-after criminals. The anchorwoman said, “Today, a new precedent
was set in the criminal world as two men, arrested for the murder of an undercover DEA agent named Percy Smith, were broken
out of jail by members of their gang, known as Point Blank Mob. Deshawn ‘Jihad’ Williams and Michael ‘Crook’ Drake of McKeesport…”

The anchorwoman went on to explain that sources stated Point Blank Mob had been the target of a yearlong federal investigation.
However, no indictments had been handed down as of yet.

As Tree and Teku sat and watched the report, Jihad, Crook and Love did the same.

“We need to get out the state,” said Jihad nervously.

“Fuck the state,” retorted Crook. “We need to get out the country.”

Jihad couldn’t believe how fast shit had gotten fucked up. There was plenty of money, so relocating wasn’t an issue. But now
he realized that everything he knew and loved was gone.

He thought about Monique. They had been together since ninth grade. When Jihad got a year in juvenile, she wrote him every
day. At nineteen he spent fourteen months in the county fighting a murder case and she never missed a visit.
Can I walk away?
Jihad thought as he turned to Crook and said, “I need to see Monique.”

Crook understood. He knew that he couldn’t deter his friend, so instead of arguing he turned to Love and asked, “Can you make
it happen?”

“Yeah,” replied Love. “But you know you’re taking a chance.”

T
he day after the breakout, Monique sat in the passenger seat of Love’s ride as tears rolled down her face. She hadn’t slept
and her eyes were swollen. However, all the tragedy in the world could not conceal her beauty. She had deep chocolate skin
with a natural radiance that illuminated any room she entered. At five foot six, 125 pounds, she was that girl. And that girl
belonged to Jihad.

As the two women drove, the tail was obvious, but they continued on without a care as they pulled into the Century III Mall’s
parking lot. Once out of the car they proceeded into the mall and began to shop.

As they walked in and out of the stores, Monique kept asking, “You sure this gonna work?”

Love continued to reassure her friend, but deep down inside she wasn’t sure. It was time to find out, as they entered Kaufman’s
Department Store and walked toward the women’s clothing.

While they browsed through the aisles, Love finally spotted the female who resembled Monique. Their eyes
met and Love ducked into the dressing room. Five minutes later Monique followed.

In the dressing room there wasn’t much time as the two women quickly switched clothes. After getting dressed, Monique exited
the dressing room and headed to the register with the other woman’s choices.

After paying for the clothes, Monique walked to the exit and into the parking lot, where a brand new beige Pontiac Grand Am
sat waiting, just as planned.

She was a nervous wreck as she fumbled with the keys. After extensive effort, the car turned over and she pulled off.

She had no written directions because Jihad had not wanted anything in writing that could lead to the only safe place he and
Crook had. Monique prayed she would find her way. Love had been pretty clear and as Monique manipulated the car through the
small city streets of Donora, she became confident that she would be all right.

The trip from the mall was uneventful. Monique wasn’t the paranoid type. Dealing with Jihad over the years had given her the
ability to overcome stressful situations. She pulled up in front of the small yellow house on Allen Avenue. Overwhelmed with
emotion she saw her man open the door.

Hurrying from the car, she made her way up the few steps as Jihad stood there waiting. Without thought she fell into his arms
and opened the floodgates of emotion that she had been keeping at bay until she could see for herself that Jihad was truly
safe.

Inside they walked down the hallway into the bedroom. Monique wasn’t stupid. She knew that this might be the last time she
would ever see her man. She couldn’t follow him, he wouldn’t allow it. She was in her last year of college, studying to be
a teacher, and he always made her promise to graduate. It was important to Jihad that she succeed and he would help her no
matter what. During her freshman year she had come up almost ten thousand dollars short on her tuition and when she explained
that she would end up having to attend community college, Jihad left, only to return ten minutes later with the money, saying,
“I want you to take this money and do right.”

If it had been any other man, Monique would have been surprised. But with Jihad, nothing was a surprise. He had taken care
of her since the first day they met and given her everything, and now she would return the favor. She looked at him and said,
“Tonight there ain’t no limits. I love you more than I love anything in this world and I never want another man to say I was
his first anything.”

Up until that point in their relationship, the sex had been relatively reserved. Monique had always been conservative when
it came to sex. If needed Jihad always had a woman ready to handle his fetishes, because he never pressed her into doing something
that would make her uncomfortable. But tonight would be different. Monique stepped back and began to remove her clothing.

As Monique undressed, Jihad sat back on the bed as
he felt his manhood rise to attention. He had watched her undress a thousand times, but never had her demeanor been so erotic
as she caressed her firm breasts, running her fingers over her fully erect nipples, which were shaped like gumdrops. Then,
almost as if she were reading his thoughts, she pushed her right breast up, taking the dark, thick nipple inside her mouth
and sucking it lavishly. Jihad couldn’t believe it. He sat and watched, feeling as if the swollen muscle between his legs
would burst at any minute. Knowing she had her lover’s attention she walked closer to the bed and lifted her leg, placing
it on the bed and giving him a clear view of her most intimate spot. Unable to control himself he began to rise up off his
elbows to meet her. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.