The cool breeze common to Lancaster, Pennsylvania in the fall rustles Derek's stark black hair. He firmly, carefully shuts the door to his gleaming, fully restored 1969 Camaro. Derek scans the yard of the professor's three story Victorian. Two dozen college students with Greek letters on tees, windbreakers and a few sweaters mill across the plush manicured lawn.
Derek flashes his "good to see ya" smile to one of his distributors as he makes his way round back. A sorority girl from Chi Delta Alpha places a plastic cup full of whatever keg has most recently been tapped in his hand. He takes it, hugs her and let her paw him anxiously. He grins at the frat boys as they envy his good fortune. The coed completes searching him for weapons and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. He brushes her cheek with his open hand and then disappears into the packed house. Derek squeezes his way through the throng gyrating to the latest hip-hop release. Derek notices the Professor has been careful to remove his more delicate, valuable treasures from the various areas of his home.
Squeezing past another half dozen acquaintances, Derek finally makes it upstairs to the professor's study. The dark oak door to the study looks like it belongs on the front door of the house - reinforced steel core with a double dead bolt. Derek knows the door is just a part of what makes the professors study a practical panic room. The mammoth door opens slightly and two waifish girls ran out giggling. Derek ignores the two and enters shutting the door behind him. The room smells of patchouli oil, lilac and smoke. Professor Smith takes a long drag and waits for Derek to sit in the plush burgundy leather chair across from him.
"Well?" Smith still has not blown any of the smoke he has taken in.
Derek leans forward, forearms on knees, "Forty-four grand. The customary 100% on the monthly 20 and I made an additional twenty four beyond that. Twelve for me, twelve for you."
Smith remains silent for a moment and casually meets Derek's eyes. "Adequate." Smith takes the two envelopes offered and lets them rest in his lap. "Choi believes you are handling for another." The statement is made in a flat matter of fact tone. The accusation and the danger is clear to Derek.
"It is what you think that matters to me." Derek shifts upright.
"Of course," Smith smiles. "I think you are handling for someone else." Smith waits. He does not take his eyes away from Derek's, waiting for a response.
Derek has not read the personal power guru texts the professor has but he knows an attempt at intimidation when he saw one. He enjoys their silence until finally the professor sighs. "The risks you take are my risks. If you are handling for someone else you must tell me, Derek."
Derek locks his eyes to the professor's. "The risks I take are yours. And now your risks are mine. I told you that Lucas would be a problem. That's serious, what he pulled this month." Derek brushes at his black jeans.
"Dammit, Derek. Is that what this is about, Lucas? I told you Lucas is a necessary evil. Did you think you would be my only go to guy forever? Generals have more than one officer, Derek. Business has been growing. There is more product than you can physically handle-"
Derek interrupts. "I know business is growing. I got no problem with you bringing up new handlers if they know what they're doing. You could have brought up Cado. I been telling you he has more talent than we are using. This Lucas is an A-1 clusterfu-"
"Lucas brought me 68 large this month, Derek."
"That's short term thinking, Professor. Peter, been in Lucas's crew for eight months, shorted him three benjie's and Lucas punished him by slapping his girlfriend right in front of him. And he still has Peter working for him. Peter ain't gonna to let that pass. He ain't going to forget that. That kind of decision making threatens everything you have built."
"Derek, I am afraid you cannot see past your own concerns. I have a business to grow and you choosing to handle for someone else because you don't like my hiring choices- well, that is simply not acceptable. I am going to give you one week to focus your attention on handling the product I provide you and strip away whatever distractions you have indulged in recently."
Derek shakes his head. It would happen tonight as he had expected.
Smith taps the armchair's rich fabric. "Do you understand me, Derek?"
Derek rises from his seat, walking to the door and opens it. He glances back, "You will regret not trusting me, Smith." He closes the door and walked into the hallway. He stops for a moment and draws in a deep breath, holds it and releases. He is ready.
He comes down the stairs to the main living room on the first floor and finds Lucas staring at him as he descended. As he expected. Derek quickly finds Peter and Choi's positions.
Lucas grins and shouts, "Derek, I told you to stay away from the Beta Delta girls and here I am told you were pawing up-"
Derek pushes two jocks aside roughly and walks directly up to Lucas, "Skip to the good part, Lucas. Go ahead and draw your gun. I'm going to need it to kill you."
Silence wafts though the room like smoke. Lucas' face is ashen. Derek hears the rustle of a wind breaker behind him and he blurs into motion. Derek smacks Lucas's across the face and snatches the ludicrous chrome .45 auto from his jeans. No holster. What a dumb, sloppy bastard! He hauls Lucas around and uses him as a shield against Choi, who is already firing. Bullets wiff past Derek while two bury themselves in Lucas' leg and stomach. Derek lets the .45 blaze. Choi flinches. The back of his head sprays across the room. The screams seem to travel slower than the coeds lunging for every exit.
Lucas slumps forward, losing breath. Derek pulls him up and he howls dryly in pain. Peter approaches, his gun leveled on Derek. Derek pushed the .45 hard into Lucas' ribs. "Shoot him," Derek says to Peter.
"No, no," Lucas pleads struggling to make the words clear.
Peter stopped in front of Lucas, rage clear on his face, "Shut up! Whose gonna hit who, Lucas? Huh, huh?" Peter hauls his 9 mil back and smacks Lucas across the face with it. A tooth falls to the blood soaked carpet. "How do you like getting smacked in the face, Lucas? How do you-"
Derek can hear the perfectly tuned whine of an Italian motorcycle in the front yard. "Finish him now. We don't have time for this!" Derek yells.
"Oh, we got time for this, Derek," tears streak Peter's face. He levels the gun at Derek's face now. "Keep your ten grand, Derek. I'm gonna have my say." The gun stays level with Derek's face but Peter's eyes drops to Lucas. "We were gonna get married, Lucas. I loved her and you raised a hand to her!" Peter's gun drops down to Lucas.
"I'm s-s-" Lucas' body wracks as he tries to spit the words past his blood and pain, "I'm sorry."
"What?" Derek watches Peter's face go flat, surprise leveling rage. Derek closes his eyes for half a second. You want something done right, you do it yourself. Derek raises the .45 quickly and fires his last bullet straight into Peter's temple. Peter drops like steer under a slaughter bolt. Rushed, Derek lets the .45 drop and easily pushes Lucas all the way down to his knees. "I hate pikers, Lucas. Meet you in hell." Derek twists Lucas' head with speed and force, snapping his neck. Derek waits for Lucas' body to go limp before releasing him.
"Lets go, lets go." Marcus sweeps into the room careful to raise his pistol when he moves passed Derek. "Cado and Monk have their bikes out front. I got the jeep. Where's your piece?"
Derek breaths a sigh of relief even as the hint of sirens lick his ears. "I used that shiny toy," Derek makes for the door knowing his crew is ready. "I'll take Monk's bike and he'll go with you in the Jeep. Cado will run with me out of town in case we do get pursued. You and Monk move the reserves in case the Professor knows more than I think he does."
Marcus tucks the chromed .45 into his pants and nods as they walk out onto the front porch. Cado sits loose on his motorbike, facing out toward the street. Monk holds up his 1,200 cc racing bike next to Cado's, full face helmet on the seat. Derek dons the helmet and waves Monk off to join Marcus in the Jeep. Derek smiles despite the now louder wail of Lancaster police sirens. His crew is there, efficient and ready when he needs them. Cado leads the group out, slow
and casual. The sirens are still three or four blocks away. No sense showing the signs of flight before it is necessary. Derek has walked away from many crime scenes when running would have had him shackled.
He watched as Marcus and Monk turn off onto Spruce Lane. Cado leads him down Roland. The fall leaves catch the moonlight elegantly. Another locker key rests in his jacket breast pocket. One hundred grand split between the three. Cado will do right by Derek's crew. He will also use his stake to replace Derek's influence in the city. Cado is strong and ready. Derek soaks in the visions of suburban sprawl overcoming the Amish countryside. He is unsure how he knows he will never see Lancaster again. He let the pristine Amish farmland fall back as he steers with one hand and checks his mobile with the other. Stephen's text message glows bright, "Meet me in Atlanta tomorrow night".
Chapter 06