Chapter 2
“Raymond McAfee, better known as Drill. At least that’s what your buddies in the Durty Boyz gang call you, right?”
Raymond didn’t answer. He sat facing the mirrored glass that allowed my superiors to look in on us. On the other side of the glass was my uncle Atlas and Agent Fitz. On this side, it was just us, and I planned to walk out victoriously.
The smell of alcohol seeped from his pores and permeated the entire interrogation room. If I had to guess, he’d been drinking all night. He would have plenty of time to sober up when I sent him back to his cell. He wouldn’t be going home any time soon.
I stood by the door with my arms folded, one over the other, a manila folder
tucked into my side. This room was my playground. I’d gone for hours in here with criminals a lot smarter than Drill, and, eventually, I always got the answers I wanted.
I slammed the manila folder down in front of him. It was everything I had collected on the dirty business he had his hands in. This folder would be the key to getting one step closer to Bishop Moore, and Drill was going to help me get there.
“That’s a life sentence in that folder right there.”
“You ain’t got shit on me.”
Drill’s cocky ass leaned back in his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world. He crossed his legs and let out a low chuckle. I couldn’t wait to wipe that smile from his face.
“You don’t think so?”
I picked the folder up and opened it. I took one file out at a time and placed it in front of him. I watched his eyes focus and then widen.
“That’s enough to put you away for life. We got you trafficking weapons and drugs, using stolen VINs, duplicating serial numbers, and I have the names of everyone who has lost their lives because of what you do. I could go on for days, or you can help me help you.”
“I ain’t no snitch.”
“Would you rather be someone’s bitch? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you spend that kind of time inside. I’m offering you a better option; flip and go into witness protection. You disappear tonight, no jail time, and in return, you give me everything I need to take your place.”
Drill had committed so many crimes over the years he’d probably lost track, but we hadn’t.
The bureau was waiting for the right time to use those crimes against him, and that time had come.
I knew I couldn’t just walk into one of the most notorious gangs in this city without someone to vouch for me. Drill would do that.
“You can’t just walk in there. Guard will smell the Fed on you from a mile away. I smell it right now.”
“You better hope he doesn’t, because I am the only thing standing between you and a life sentence.”
“Why would I help you? What makes you think I am afraid to go to prison? I knew what the life came with and still took the risk. Charge me and send me back to my cell.”
“Okay, that’s your choice to make, but I won’t just be charging you.”
I took the seat across from Drill so we were eye to eye. I wanted us to be on the same level for what I was about to say next. I pulled the last piece of evidence from my back pocket and slid it across the table.
“I’ll be charging him too.”
Drill had taken his sixteen-year-old son on the last run with him. I knew he didn’t have him into any of the illegal shit, but the fact that he was there made him an accessory. He could get the same amount of time as his father.
“Now, I’m the only person that knows about this, but I will use it if I have to.
Your son already has scouts looking at him from all around the country.
He’s on a clear path to the NFL in a few years.
I would hate for all of that to go away, but I will personally put his ass in a cell right next to yours if you don’t give me what the fuck I want. ”
The conversation between us had turned into an angry whisper because I truly was the only person who knew of his son’s involvement, and I wanted to keep it that way.
I would never make a son pay for his father’s mistakes, but I had no problem letting Drill think I would.
If he loved his son as much as I knew he did, he would do the right thing.
“Okay. What do you need me to do?”
Drill’s shoulders dropped in defeat, and he let out a loud breath. The tension shifted into guilt. The kind of guilt a father carried when he realized he’d let down his child.
“Get the DA in here with my deal tonight, and I’ll give you everything you need. Just get me out of town and stay away from my boy.”
“Deal.”
After the district attorney arrived, Drill gave me all the information I needed to successfully infiltrate the Durty Boyz. He told me who to watch out for, how to explain his absence, and how to get out in a hurry if I needed to.
I wouldn’t need to. The only thing that would pull me from this mission was success.
The Durty Boyz compound was in the part of the city where few people went. Before I joined the force, I’d never even been on this side of town. Growing up as the only son of the best agent in Jackson meant I also would have had a target on my back if anyone ever found out who I was.
My father had done everything he could to keep me in private school and sheltered from South Jackson. Now I pulled up to the compound that served as the capital. The compound was the hub for all criminal activity flowing through this city, and I was getting ready to drive my bike on its grounds.
“Oh, that bitch is bad.”
The guard at the gate circled my bike before dapping me up.
I rode a custom Harley-Davidson Sportster that had been stripped down and modified to perfection.
This bike was the only gift my father had ever given me that meant something.
Our Sunday morning rides were a ritual up until my eighteenth birthday when I left his house.
I took my bike with me but never looked back.
“I put a lot of work into her.”
“I can see that. Who you here for? They gone love that ride inside.”
“Guard’s expecting me.”
Places like this one always had the dumbest people at the gate. All I had to do was distract him with a nice ride and throw out a familiar name to gain entrance. I thought they’d have better security with all the illegal shit going on inside.
“Aight. You gotta tell me more about this bike on your way out.”
“No doubt.”
Dumbass gave the signal for them to open the gate, and I cruised right in.
Drill had given me the full layout, and I had no idea this compound was so big.
It sat on forty acres and had everything from the main clubhouse, a garage, and even a pool hall.
They didn’t even have to leave if they didn’t want to, because there were even houses on the compound that they could rent.
The crowd in front of the clubhouse was thick, but the bikes were parked in one gold, chrome, and black line. I stopped in front of the crowd and killed my engine. I didn’t park my bike with the rest, because I wasn’t one of them, not yet anyway.
Gravel crunched underneath my boots as I walked toward them; their eyes watched every step I made. It might have been easy to get through the gate, but I knew I wouldn’t have the same luck getting into the clubhouse. There were at least thirty bodies between me and the door.
They stood in groups like there were cliques inside of the clique, but they all wore the same cuts on their backs.
“Guard around? I heard y’all need someone to fix your bikes and shit.”
“Who the fuck told you that?”
It was Magazine, the sergeant at arms. Drill told me he would always be the first to speak and the first to shoot too. I didn’t give him time to think about doing the latter before I answered.
“Drill. He told me he was moving to give his boy a better shot at the league. Said y’all might need a replacement.”
“You look too fucking young to replace Drill. I got bikes older than you.”
Guard, the vice president and the man I was here to see, stepped from the porch.
He threw his cigarette to the ground before putting it out with the heel of his boot.
He was a lot bigger in person, but the mug on his face was the same mug he wore in every picture on the field office wall.
This nigga was not to be fucked with. I knew that.
“Everybody says that until you see what I can do.”
“Humph.” He looked me up and down before he continued. “I got a Dyna that’s been giving me hell since Drill disappeared. You fix that and I may let yo’ young ass come back tomorrow. Fuck out the way.”
Guard pushed past me, hitting my shoulder with his. I didn’t even flinch. Flinching could have cost me the trust I would build once I fixed that Dyna. The rest of the crew followed Guard, and I headed to the garage to get to work. I had a point to prove.