Two Days after Bomani’s Funeral
Max Million’s top female killer, the Kenya Moore body double, was found dead in his Harlem stash house. She was strangled with her own pantyhose, naked, and face down with her ass up. Whoever had done it completely dominated her and wanted it to be known. And then for further insult, all the 200 bricks of cocaine were bust open, some of the coke was washing down the drain by the shower, some more soaking in toilet water, and one brick was soaking in Royal Lochnagar scotch—his favorite kind. Somebody was sending him a message: this is personal and not about money.
“Drive, drive,” Max Million yells at his driver as bullets bounce off the armor plated crème color Benz 600 he just purchased. The Benz maneuvers around the carnage of the lead Tahoe. He thinks he is buggin’ out, losing his mind, because he sees imps breakdancing on the Tahoe. He’s had too much absinthe, a liking he picked up while traveling through Europe a few years back.
The rear Tahoe occupants start shooting at their enemies dressed in all black with balaclavas on. The gun battle is getting Vietnam-level intense. Two occupants get out the truck with Mac 11’s firing—too bad for them—they are caught in a crossfire. Another team in all black is firing behind them.
One of Max Million’s gunners’ face explodes like a watermelon, his headless body turns as if it’s a puppet on a string, still squeezing the Mac 11. His bullets hit his partner at the same time a fusillade of bullets peppered them both. When the smoke clears, you can hardly tell they are human, but they certainly are Alpo as a stray dog feasts on their meat.
Max Million is long gone from the assassination attempt and headed north on I-85. He knows he has to get out the city for a while. “Black Fist…Damn!” He pounds on the Benz door in frustration. He wonders who is leading them since Bomani is dead. They brazenly attacked him on a Bushwick street – his enclave. They made him lose face, everything is respect in the streets.
Max Million shakes his head and acknowledges his cousin was a true strategist. But what happened to him in prison that redirected his gangsta. He falls asleep on that thought.
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