Cobra and Daddy Lizard stared at him, puzzled.
“I’m starved.” Suave sat down, settled back on the couch, and crossed his legs. “What do you say we order some food and I’ll tell you all about my plan?”
Chapter Five
Danny Moore, King Kong’s best friend and second in command, whistled a tune as he walked from his mistress’s house toward his car parked in her driveway on Mountain View Avenue. It was 5:00 a.m., and he needed to head home. His wife was going to raise hell that he never came home last night. After spending the night with freaky Bambi, Danny was exhausted but content. Bambi was like a tranquilizer. Even if taken in small doses, she still knocked a brother out.
Danny clicked his key fob to unlock the car and pulled open the door. He was about to slide behind the wheel when he heard a click, followed by the feel of cold metal pressing into the back of his head. His hand flew to his hip where his gun was but paused when he heard two other guns click, one after the other.
“Reach for it, and you’re a dead man,” said an unfamiliar deep voice in Danny’s ear.
Danny held up his hands in the air, his back still facing the men. He knew he was outnumbered. “Do you know who I am?” Danny was angry. “You are dead men walking.”
The blow to his right ear temple caused Danny to see bright colored lights flashing before his eyes as he was thrown up against his car. His head began to throb with pain.
“Threats, Dan?” said another muffled voice. “You are about to die, and you are making threats?”
“O . . . O... Okay, take it easy.” Danny blinked rapidly to regain his focus. “Take what you want and go. No hard feelings.”
The men laughed out loud.
“We have what we want, Danny boy,” came a disguised voice before a blindfold was slid over Danny’s eyes.
“Wait a minute. What the—” Duct tape was snapped over Danny’s mouth. His hands were handcuffed behind his back.
The three men dragged Danny to an old Honda Civic parked a few feet away from Bambi’s house. Danny struggled to no avail as they opened the trunk and stuffed him in. In the tight, confined space, he felt the car start and drive off. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had a sickening feeling who the men were, although he never saw their faces.
That idiot, King Kong, Danny thought in anger. I told him not to do it, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Now I’m the one about to pay the price.
The car drove for what seemed like hours to Danny before it came to a stop, and the engine was cut. His sweat-drenched shirt clung to his body. He was in trouble. Just then, the trunk popped open, and Danny’s nostrils greedily sucked in the fresh air.
“Okay, Dan, let’s go.” Rough hands lifted him over a strong shoulder.
Danny tried to talk, but his words were smothered. He twisted and turned his body, kicking like a young goat about to be castrated.
But Danny was ignored. The man carrying him continued on his journey as if Danny were a mere handbag.
“Here you go.” The man lowered Danny on to a hard, metal chair.
Danny jumped to his feet but was roughly shoved back down.
“Do that again, and this will be over before it even begins. Capish?”
Danny nodded his head. He made muffled sounds, hoping someone would take off the gag so he could plead his case. He didn’t want to die for King Kong’s ignorance.
* * *
King Kong alighted from the backseat of the Lincoln Town Car, the door held opened by his driver. He was a dark-complected man, standing at six foot four, weighing almost 300 pounds. Huge diamonds adorned his ears, neck, and wrist. He straightened the jacket of his white pin-striped suit, with his white Kangol hat perched on top of his bald head. His white Stacy Adams shoes tapped the ground as he swaggered into his bar located in Arnett Gardens, the community also known as Concrete Jungle.
Concrete Jungle, which was often shortened to simply “Jungle,” was on the edge of West Kingston’s Trench Town ghetto, a deprived area on the outskirts of town consisting of large numbers of crude buildings. It was a poverty-stricken community that was one of the most frequent locations for political violence in Jamaica.
King Kong was born Mason Dyke Jr. and was known as Junior when he was young. But as he got bigger in the drug trade, it wasn’t long before he became known as King Kong for two reasons—his gigantic ego and his strong resemblance to the big gorilla. The nickname was given to him by Suave when they were children.
“Here’s your coffee, Boss.” A worker handed King Kong a huge cup of black, steaming Blue Mountain coffee. “I know you are not used to waking up so early.”
King Kong grunted and snatched the cup. He just went to bed a few hours ago but had to get up early to meet a big potential customer. The man was coming from Clarendon and insisted on conducting business at this ungodly hour. With a lot of dollars on the line, King Kong had no choice but to make the deal himself.
“Where’s Danny?” King Kong yelled as he walked toward the back of the restaurant where business was conducted. He took a sip of his coffee. “I know he’s here. If I’m here, he better be here too.”
“I think he’s running a little late, King,” the restaurant manager informed King Kong. “I also found it strange that he’s not here yet. He knew this deal was a big one.”
Just then, King Kong’s cell phone blasted a reggae song from his pants pocket. He took it out, flipped it open, and put it to his ear. “Speak.”
“King, they took Danny!” Bambi’s voice was filled with panic.
“What? Who took Danny?”
“I don’t know. It was three men wearing black clothes and hoodies over their faces. They cuffed and blindfolded him, then took him away.” Bambi began to sob.
“Bambi, stop the bawling,” King Kong yelled, “and tell me when they took him. Where did they take him?” In rapid succession, he fired off one question after another.
“I ran outside just in time to see a Honda Civic driving away,” Bambi said in between sobs. “They’re going to kill Danny boo!”
King Kong snapped his phone shut. “Phil! Saddam!”
Two rough-looking men ran from a side room into the back. They were King Kong’s top trigger hands. “Yes, King?”
“Get over to Bambi now and see what’s going on. She just called to say three men kidnapped Danny.”
Phil and Saddam ran from the room as if their lives depended on it.
King Kong threw the cup of coffee against the wall, shattering it and splashing brown liquid all over the tiled floor. “Who would dare do something like this?” But deep down in his gut, King Kong knew. It seemed like a good plan at the time. Robbing Suave’s workers and giving them a good beat down was supposed to send a strong message. Suave needed to know that King Kong was the head of the drug game, and the King didn’t want to share it with anyone—especially Suave. King Kong hated Suave and vowed to ruin him at all costs.
It looked as if his plan had backfired.
“King, we are—”
“Get out!” King Kong pulled his Glock from his waist and waved it around the room like a madman. He felt as if his head were about to explode. Danny was like a brother to him. For most of King Kong’s life, Danny was there for him. Now, Suave had taken Danny and was about to do God knows what.