deepundergroundpoetry.com
City Slicker.. Put Your Hands Up
PORT AUTHORITY OF NEW YORK AND NEW JERSEY
New York, New York
Later That Evening
Domenico looked down at over 120 pounds of marijuana, 733 grams of ICE and 1.3 kilograms of heroin spaced out on three different tables. He looked over at the three men who stood near each table.
“Is the shit all here? I’m in no mood for any short comings.”
“Who the fuck are you again?” one of the men spoke out. His hand went down to his gun resting at his side.
“Tank was indisposed at the moment, therefore, Dmeshii, sent me to stand in his place.”
“Do you mind if I call Dmeshii to confirm this shit before I go any further with this transaction. I don’t like how your arrogant ass look.”
“Do what makes you feel best bitch.”
Pavel lifted his Optima .50 Black Powder pistol from out his holster. He rushed to where Domenico stood. He pointed the barrel of his gun at Domenico’s temple.
“Listen you wanna be two-bit hustler. I don’t know you from a can of paint.” Pavel spit at Domenico’s feet. “So when I say jump mothafucka. You ask how fucking high. You feel me.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Pavel looked over at one of his boys.
“Call Dmeshii on this bitch. This shit just don’t feel right.”
Tank’s other contact turned his back on Domenico.
Domenico reached across his chest and slowly pulled his 450 Marlin BFR from out his shoulder gun holster. He lifted his weapon and shot one of the men in the back of his head.
Pavel’s bodyguard’s body slumped to the floor.
Domenico shot Pavel in his stomach.
Pavel reached out for Domenico’s neck.
“You motherfucker.”
Pavel’s body slowly fell to the concrete. His weapon landed at his side.
Pavel’s other man lifted his Smith & Wesson Model 29 from out the side of his waistband.
Domenico fired his gun, hitting the man in his chest.
The man’s body fell backwards. His weapon slid across the concrete.
Domenico looked down at the three men bodies sprawled on the concrete.
“Thanks for the come up, bitch.”
Domenico spit on Pavel’s back. He replaced his weapon inside his shoulder hostler. He looked around the Customs area of the Port. He slid his briefcase to him and lifted three plastic packages of marijuana. He settled them inside. He walked over to the next table and lifted the packaged grams of ICE; he looked around the Customs area again. Domenico walked over to the third table and lifted the four brown taped packages of Heroin blocks. He walked back to where his briefcase rested and neatly situated all the contents inside. He closed his briefcase, gripped the handle, and lifted it from off the table.
Domenico walked over to where his vehicle was parked near the side exit door. His cell phone vibrated on his hip.
“Shit.” He gritted down on his teeth.
Maybe he should let it ring.
Domenico stopped and placed his briefcase upright on the concrete ground. He reached downward and lifted his cell phone from off hip clip. He slid his cell phone.
Marcus and several FBI Agents concealed their presence behind stacked crates on the landing.
Marcus lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth and pressed in the side button.
“On the count of three. I need several men to move in through the East end entrance door. Agent Angelo, watch Agent Sari’s back. Is that confirmed, come back.”
Agent Angelo looked over at Agent Sari. He winked at her.
“With my life, and we’re ready on your command Director Modarius,” Agent Angelo established on his walkie-talkie.
“Agent Blackstone are you ready.”
“My men are here and waiting to move sir.”
“Agent Carrey.”
“Let’s do this,” Agent Carrey replied back on his walkie-talkie.
Marcus clipped his walkie-talkie over the belt of his pants. He knocked on his FBI Kevlar vest. He reached behind himself and lifted his Glock and Magnum 357 Revolver from out the waistband of his pants. He said a silent prayer. Marcus lifted his Glock in the air and circled it.
A DEA Agent held a Battering Ram up to the steel door. He swung it back and then banged it into the door.
The door crashed forward.
Several FBI Agents and several DEA Agents rush inside the
warehouse.
“FBI, DEA, everyone drop your weapon.”
Several men hired under Domenico’s pocket posted near the door, drew their weapon and begin firing.
Everyone confined within the spacious warehouse ran and ducked for cover.
A barrage of bullets intertwined into each other.
Agent Blackstone peeped from behind a crate. He saw a briefcase rooted near a pile of crates. He whistled to Agent Angelo and nodded his head down at the briefcase sticking out for viewing.
Agent Angelo scooted Agent Sari back against the wooden crates. He stepped out and start firing.
Agent Blackstone ran in the direction of the briefcase sticking out. His presence met the nozzle of Domenico’s weapon.
“I guess they do not teach you that shit in FBI training. Never underestimate the power of a hungry man with a meal in his hand. Give it up before these bullets greet your throat.”
Agent Blackstone uncocked his Beretta 92 Combat 9mm. He placed his weapon in the center of Domenico’s palm.
Domenico placed Agent Blackstone’s weapon inside his shoulder gun holster. He turned Agent Blackstone around and wrapped his arm around his neck.
“Move motherfucker. Let’s go and talk to your director about trading your life for his.”
“Man fuck you.”
Domenico hit Agent Blackstone on top of his head with the butt of his gun.
“Now move.”
Domenico propelled Agent Blackstone’s movements.
“Agent Modarius, I have one of your men, and if I am not promised safe passage out of this warehouse. His blood will be on yours. And from what I could see, he already has a nasty gash bleeding from the back of his head.”
“Hold your fire,” Marcus commanded.
Bullets continued to ring out.
“Dammit, I said hold your fucking fire,” Marcus screamed out.
Silence greeted.
Domenico walked out in the opening shielded by Agent Blackstone’s body.
“Well, we meet again nigger.”
“It was just a matter of time and take under advisement. The only way you are getting out of here is by handcuffs, or in a body bag.”
“You really are one dumb ass nigger. You need to worry about whose bed your bitch’s pussy will be in tonight. Because word on the street. It looks like Dmeshii will be sticking his pole inside that tight cunt in Russia. Yes, the same cunt, I been in long before your dick was ever thought about.”
Marcus palmed his goatee down.
“It must not been that good, she’s with me now. As a courtesy call, I advise you to let Agent Blackstone go, and peacefully surrender. I’m sure you will lawyer up, maybe get a plea bargain for murdering an FBI Agent.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It appears your gun was found an hour ago near a warehouse in New Jersey with your fingerprints on it and a dead FBI agent dead inside, do the math.”
“I never murdered anyone. You planted my gun at the scene; you know one of the guns you took from Tango and me when we visited your home.”
“Quite an interesting story. Had you, or that fat fucker ever visit my residence, I would have shot you and Tango dead for entering an FBI agent’s home uninvited.”
“I’m being set-up.”
“If you do not drop your weapon, you are not going to get your day in court to argue that.”
“Man fuck you.”
Domenico aimed his gun and pulled the trigger.
Agent Angelo shot Domenico in the side of his temple.
Domenico’s arm released from around Agent Blackstone’s neck. His body dropped to the concrete. His weapon landed near his head.
Director Modarius looked over where the bullet came from.
Agent Angelo reholstered his Linebaugh 500.
Numerous FBI Agents swarmed around Domenico’s lifeless body.
Agent Blackstone rushed over to where Marcus stood.
“Oh, shit my weapon.”
“Leave it until ballistic clears that bastard lying down their fingerprints. Agent Blackstone, I’m leaving you in charge to clean this shit up.”
“You’re going after your girl I suppose.”
“If indeed what that dead bastard divulged. And if she is in the air. Then I need to do what needs to be done.” Marcus lifted his FBI badge from off his belt. “I need you to hang on to this until I return.”
Marcus handed his badge to Agent Blackstone.
Agent Blackstone looked down at Marcus’ FBI badge, and then up at Marcus.
“Director Modarius, just remember you are the law.”
“Yes, the ones I intend to make as I go along.”
Marcus turned and walked out the warehouse.
Agent Blackstone looked down at Marcus’ badge.
“God help America.”
He squeezed Marcus’ badge and then looked up at the door Marcus just exited.
Copyright©SKC-2022
New York, New York
Later That Evening
Domenico looked down at over 120 pounds of marijuana, 733 grams of ICE and 1.3 kilograms of heroin spaced out on three different tables. He looked over at the three men who stood near each table.
“Is the shit all here? I’m in no mood for any short comings.”
“Who the fuck are you again?” one of the men spoke out. His hand went down to his gun resting at his side.
“Tank was indisposed at the moment, therefore, Dmeshii, sent me to stand in his place.”
“Do you mind if I call Dmeshii to confirm this shit before I go any further with this transaction. I don’t like how your arrogant ass look.”
“Do what makes you feel best bitch.”
Pavel lifted his Optima .50 Black Powder pistol from out his holster. He rushed to where Domenico stood. He pointed the barrel of his gun at Domenico’s temple.
“Listen you wanna be two-bit hustler. I don’t know you from a can of paint.” Pavel spit at Domenico’s feet. “So when I say jump mothafucka. You ask how fucking high. You feel me.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Pavel looked over at one of his boys.
“Call Dmeshii on this bitch. This shit just don’t feel right.”
Tank’s other contact turned his back on Domenico.
Domenico reached across his chest and slowly pulled his 450 Marlin BFR from out his shoulder gun holster. He lifted his weapon and shot one of the men in the back of his head.
Pavel’s bodyguard’s body slumped to the floor.
Domenico shot Pavel in his stomach.
Pavel reached out for Domenico’s neck.
“You motherfucker.”
Pavel’s body slowly fell to the concrete. His weapon landed at his side.
Pavel’s other man lifted his Smith & Wesson Model 29 from out the side of his waistband.
Domenico fired his gun, hitting the man in his chest.
The man’s body fell backwards. His weapon slid across the concrete.
Domenico looked down at the three men bodies sprawled on the concrete.
“Thanks for the come up, bitch.”
Domenico spit on Pavel’s back. He replaced his weapon inside his shoulder hostler. He looked around the Customs area of the Port. He slid his briefcase to him and lifted three plastic packages of marijuana. He settled them inside. He walked over to the next table and lifted the packaged grams of ICE; he looked around the Customs area again. Domenico walked over to the third table and lifted the four brown taped packages of Heroin blocks. He walked back to where his briefcase rested and neatly situated all the contents inside. He closed his briefcase, gripped the handle, and lifted it from off the table.
Domenico walked over to where his vehicle was parked near the side exit door. His cell phone vibrated on his hip.
“Shit.” He gritted down on his teeth.
Maybe he should let it ring.
Domenico stopped and placed his briefcase upright on the concrete ground. He reached downward and lifted his cell phone from off hip clip. He slid his cell phone.
Marcus and several FBI Agents concealed their presence behind stacked crates on the landing.
Marcus lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth and pressed in the side button.
“On the count of three. I need several men to move in through the East end entrance door. Agent Angelo, watch Agent Sari’s back. Is that confirmed, come back.”
Agent Angelo looked over at Agent Sari. He winked at her.
“With my life, and we’re ready on your command Director Modarius,” Agent Angelo established on his walkie-talkie.
“Agent Blackstone are you ready.”
“My men are here and waiting to move sir.”
“Agent Carrey.”
“Let’s do this,” Agent Carrey replied back on his walkie-talkie.
Marcus clipped his walkie-talkie over the belt of his pants. He knocked on his FBI Kevlar vest. He reached behind himself and lifted his Glock and Magnum 357 Revolver from out the waistband of his pants. He said a silent prayer. Marcus lifted his Glock in the air and circled it.
A DEA Agent held a Battering Ram up to the steel door. He swung it back and then banged it into the door.
The door crashed forward.
Several FBI Agents and several DEA Agents rush inside the
warehouse.
“FBI, DEA, everyone drop your weapon.”
Several men hired under Domenico’s pocket posted near the door, drew their weapon and begin firing.
Everyone confined within the spacious warehouse ran and ducked for cover.
A barrage of bullets intertwined into each other.
Agent Blackstone peeped from behind a crate. He saw a briefcase rooted near a pile of crates. He whistled to Agent Angelo and nodded his head down at the briefcase sticking out for viewing.
Agent Angelo scooted Agent Sari back against the wooden crates. He stepped out and start firing.
Agent Blackstone ran in the direction of the briefcase sticking out. His presence met the nozzle of Domenico’s weapon.
“I guess they do not teach you that shit in FBI training. Never underestimate the power of a hungry man with a meal in his hand. Give it up before these bullets greet your throat.”
Agent Blackstone uncocked his Beretta 92 Combat 9mm. He placed his weapon in the center of Domenico’s palm.
Domenico placed Agent Blackstone’s weapon inside his shoulder gun holster. He turned Agent Blackstone around and wrapped his arm around his neck.
“Move motherfucker. Let’s go and talk to your director about trading your life for his.”
“Man fuck you.”
Domenico hit Agent Blackstone on top of his head with the butt of his gun.
“Now move.”
Domenico propelled Agent Blackstone’s movements.
“Agent Modarius, I have one of your men, and if I am not promised safe passage out of this warehouse. His blood will be on yours. And from what I could see, he already has a nasty gash bleeding from the back of his head.”
“Hold your fire,” Marcus commanded.
Bullets continued to ring out.
“Dammit, I said hold your fucking fire,” Marcus screamed out.
Silence greeted.
Domenico walked out in the opening shielded by Agent Blackstone’s body.
“Well, we meet again nigger.”
“It was just a matter of time and take under advisement. The only way you are getting out of here is by handcuffs, or in a body bag.”
“You really are one dumb ass nigger. You need to worry about whose bed your bitch’s pussy will be in tonight. Because word on the street. It looks like Dmeshii will be sticking his pole inside that tight cunt in Russia. Yes, the same cunt, I been in long before your dick was ever thought about.”
Marcus palmed his goatee down.
“It must not been that good, she’s with me now. As a courtesy call, I advise you to let Agent Blackstone go, and peacefully surrender. I’m sure you will lawyer up, maybe get a plea bargain for murdering an FBI Agent.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It appears your gun was found an hour ago near a warehouse in New Jersey with your fingerprints on it and a dead FBI agent dead inside, do the math.”
“I never murdered anyone. You planted my gun at the scene; you know one of the guns you took from Tango and me when we visited your home.”
“Quite an interesting story. Had you, or that fat fucker ever visit my residence, I would have shot you and Tango dead for entering an FBI agent’s home uninvited.”
“I’m being set-up.”
“If you do not drop your weapon, you are not going to get your day in court to argue that.”
“Man fuck you.”
Domenico aimed his gun and pulled the trigger.
Agent Angelo shot Domenico in the side of his temple.
Domenico’s arm released from around Agent Blackstone’s neck. His body dropped to the concrete. His weapon landed near his head.
Director Modarius looked over where the bullet came from.
Agent Angelo reholstered his Linebaugh 500.
Numerous FBI Agents swarmed around Domenico’s lifeless body.
Agent Blackstone rushed over to where Marcus stood.
“Oh, shit my weapon.”
“Leave it until ballistic clears that bastard lying down their fingerprints. Agent Blackstone, I’m leaving you in charge to clean this shit up.”
“You’re going after your girl I suppose.”
“If indeed what that dead bastard divulged. And if she is in the air. Then I need to do what needs to be done.” Marcus lifted his FBI badge from off his belt. “I need you to hang on to this until I return.”
Marcus handed his badge to Agent Blackstone.
Agent Blackstone looked down at Marcus’ FBI badge, and then up at Marcus.
“Director Modarius, just remember you are the law.”
“Yes, the ones I intend to make as I go along.”
Marcus turned and walked out the warehouse.
Agent Blackstone looked down at Marcus’ badge.
“God help America.”
He squeezed Marcus’ badge and then looked up at the door Marcus just exited.
Copyright©SKC-2022
Published 14th Jul 2022
Author's Note
A chapter ripped straight out of one of my published novels
SKC
SKC
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The whole system is corrupted. We need people like the XXX movies to keep an eye on the watchers so they won't make the world a better place. Keep on writing my Queen.
14th Jul 2022 2:33am
Well listen to you, my handsome poet, I will take that engaging sentiment anytime, and it is received reverences and sincerity, thank you.
Please enjoy the remainder of your evening as I bid you a great Thursday in return.
Please enjoy the remainder of your evening as I bid you a great Thursday in return.
14th Jul 2022 2:48am
14th Jul 2022 5:19pm
there is a privet war about to start as Marcus is in the fore front out to kit someone's ass
22nd Jul 2022 3:33am
