The Family Business 3(41)

Brother X





26


The brothers and I finished our evening prayers then sat down to eat a fantastic meal prepared by a handful of the brothers’ wives. I’m not sure if it was that the food was so good or that I hadn’t eaten all day, but I was on my third plate of food. Elijah had been constantly prodding me to eat during the day, but we’d done an arson job on one of the Duncan car dealerships in Long Island earlier, and I always found it hard to eat until after a job was successfully completed.

“Xavier,” Elijah called to me as he hung up his phone. I glanced his way to acknowledge I was listening, but I didn’t stop devouring the chicken leg in my hand. “Most of the Duncans are still at the hospital, except for Vegas, who is impossible to follow, and Junior, who has fallen off the grid with your wife. I’m not quite sure if they know about the fire yet.”

A satisfied smile emerged as I imagined the shock on their faces when they found out one of their precious dealerships had gone up in flames. This was the message I wanted to make sure everyone heard loud and clear: You f*ck my wife, I f*ck your entire family and everyone associated with you. They had no idea what we had planned for them next.

“What about tonight? Have we gotten the call? Is everything in place?”

“Everything is in place, and the men have all been issued weapons. We’re just waiting on you.”

I dropped the chicken back on my plate, my mind back on business. “Well, then let’s move out.”





An hour later, everything was in place, and we arrived at the Staten Island warehouse where Lincoln had told us he worked. From the outside, the building appeared abandoned, but upon closer inspection we could see the infrared surveillance system. We sat in our cars at a safe enough distance to go undetected as we watched the Uzi-carrying sentries who circled the building just like Lincoln had described it to us.

“Let’s take ’em out,” I told Elijah. He gave the signal, and within seconds our sniper hit the sentries. We watched them fall one by one, and then our men, almost forty strong, stormed the building.

“We’ve been compromised!” A Duncan guard hollered into his walkie-talkie when he spotted us. He lifted his gun at an unsuspecting Elijah and was about to pull the trigger.

“Drop it,” I commanded, pointing my Desert Eagle handgun at him. Four of our men were standing nearby with their weapons trained on him also.

He didn’t pull the trigger, but he didn’t drop his weapon, either. Lincoln had said the Duncan employees were loyal, and that was proving to be an understatement. Most men would have dropped the weapon on command when faced with multiple firearms pointed at them.

“I can’t do that,” he answered, which came as no surprise to me.

“That’s too bad,” I replied right before I unloaded two shots into his chest. His body flew backward before he landed dead on the concrete.

Elijah turned and gave me a grateful nod.

I looked down at the man on the ground and shook my head. “You’re incredibly loyal—for a dead man.” The laughter of my men broke some of the tension, if only for a moment.

“Fan out,” I ordered. “And bring me the person in charge—alive.”

They spread out like a swarm of roaches, covering every exit and entrance. For the next five minutes, all I heard was automatic gunfire and screaming. The Duncans’ employees were putting up a good fight, but they were outnumbered five to one, so it didn’t take long for me to hear the echo of “Clear . . . Clear . . . Clear . . . ” on my earpiece.

Elijah came running to report, “We’ve got ten Duncan men down and one captive.”

“Good. Losses on our side?”

“Two men dead, one injured.”

“May Allah bless their souls on their journey to the kingdom,” I said.

“May Allah bless their souls,” the men repeated in unison.

“Brother Xavier, I think we might have something here,” Ahmed shouted from across the warehouse.

Elijah and I walked side by side to where Ahmed was struggling to open a large, heavy door. Elijah stepped over to help him, and when they managed to pry it open, we saw something we definitely hadn’t expected. I think we had all been surprised by the Duncans’ power on some level, but this took it to new heights, because piled almost to the ceiling in that room was enough of marijuana to fill four tractor trailers.

“What do we do with this?” Elijah asked.

It took me a moment to wrap my head around just how much dope in dollars and cents was piled up in front of us. It had to be millions. Sensing that something was up, a group of our men had gathered near the doorway, and turning to look at them, I swear I could see dollar signs in their eyes.

“Burn it!” I barked at Elijah. “Burn every drop of this poison.”

Elijah, as always, didn’t hesitate. He shouted to his men, “You heard the man! Burn it!”

I was sure some of the less devout among our men were silently questioning my judgment, no doubt tempted by the money that could be made selling this weed on the streets, but no one was stupid enough to protest out loud. Wisely, they scrambled to set the Duncans’ weed aflame.

I stepped outside as the smoke started filling the room, and one of my soldiers brought the lone Duncan survivor out to me. As they approached, I could see that he was terrified.