The Block Read Free Page B

address in his navigational system and headed toward the destination.
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    Detective Abraham sat in an all-black van along with three of his crooked partners. For about two weeks, they had been scoping out Big Mike’s dope house. Detective Abraham was tired of watching him get rich. He took a deep drag from his Newport. “Damn! This nigga spot is really clicking.”
    Maxwell, one of Abraham’s crooked partners, said, “Yeah, he going to have to come up off this spot.”
    â€œY’all muthafuckas ready?” Detective Abraham asked as he loaded his MAC-11.
    All three of his partners nodded their heads yes.
    â€œLet’s do it.”
    Detective Abraham slid out the van and ran up toward the back door. He silently counted to three and watched Maxwell kick the back door open.
    â€œPolice! Nobody move!” Detective Abraham yelled as he stormed inside.
    Big Mike tried to grab the AK-47 that sat next to him, but he quickly put the assault rifle back down when he realized they had the drop on him.
    â€œDon’t fucking move!” Detective Abraham said, his MAC-11 trained on the drug dealer.
    â€œFuck y’all pigs want?” Big Mike asked with an attitude. “Y’all want money, or y’all came to lock me up this time?”
    â€œDepends.” Detective Abraham smiled. “How much money you got up in here?”
    â€œAbout fifty thousand. Why?”
    â€œHand that over,” Detective Abraham said quickly.
    â€œIt’s over there in the safe,” Big Mike said.
    Just then somebody knocked on Big Mike’s door.
    â€œThat’s just one of my customers,” he said nonchalantly.
    Maxwell looked over and saw the table covered with bundled-up dope. He grabbed a few bundles and walked to the door and served the fiend.
    Detective Abraham smiled as he dialed his son’s number.
    On the fifth ring, Tone finally answered. “What up?”
    â€œI need you to send me a few workers over here,” Detective Abraham told him. “Got us a new spot.”
    â€œI got you. Just e-mail me the address,” Tone said as he ended the call.
    Once Detective Abraham hung up the phone, he quickly e-mailed Tone the info he needed.
    â€œY’all already got the money. Now what?” Big Mike said.
    â€œNow you say good night.”
    Detective Abraham smiled as he raised his MAC-11 and pulled the trigger. The rest of the crew watched Big Mike’s body jerk back and forth as the bullets ripped through him.
    â€œClean this mess up. Call me and let me know when the workers get here.” Detective Abraham walked out the dope house like nothing never happened. This was just the beginning of his big plan. Plus, who was going to stop him? He was the police.
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    â€œA’ight,” Tone said to his workers, “I need y’all over there as soon as possible. One.”
    As soon as he hung up the phone, Mya was all over him. “Where you going, looking all nice?”
    â€œLooking all nice?” Tone echoed. “I got on regular clothes.”
    â€œI thought you was taking me out tonight,” Mya whined. She had been waiting all day for Tone to come home so they could go out, like he had promised.
    â€œI was, but I gotta do something for my pops tonight.”
    â€œBut you promised me. Can’t you do whatever it is you gotta do for him tomorrow?”
    â€œNah, it’s gotta be done tonight. Sorry.” Tone kissed Mya on her forehead. “But, I promise you, I won’t be out too late.” Then he stuck his .40-cal in his waistband and headed out the door.
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    Maine pulled up in front of the building his GPS led him to. He quickly pulled out his .380 and screwed on the silencer before exiting his whip. He walked in the building and took the stairs to the third floor. When he reached the apartment he was looking for, he flung his hood over his head as he knocked on the door. Once he saw somebody