Face Off--The Baddest Chick 4 Read online

  Terri didn’t involve himself with Denise and her time with Apple. His time at the hospital was limited. He showed up, stayed briefly, and left. The feds were steadily sniffing around, and state detectives were snooping too. That violent incident at the New Jersey hospital had opened up a can of worms, and many branches of law enforcement were investigating the bombing and the murders.

  Ion had been identified as an ex-Navy SEAL gone rogue, causing the death of a prominent doctor and a staff member. The bombing and murders had made the national news. And the murders at the hospital had been linked to the ongoing drug war in Harlem. Apple now had the attention of the press, who paraded the story as a hit gone wrong. The mayor of New York held a press conference and vowed to stop the gun violence in New York. Something had to be done.

  Terri knew the kitchen was getting hot. Too hot. And Guy Tony was loving every minute of it. News about Apple’s deadly episodes took the heat off him, and now the nation was watching her.

  Terri, on the other hand, was ambivalent.

  He came to New York to perform a job. It was to keep Apple safe, and have her back, even if it meant risking his own life. But he started liking her more than he should. He kept his feelings about Apple a secret. He had to keep his actions about business.

  Terri gazed at Apple and then shifted his eyes over to Denise. “I’m about to take off,” he said.

  Denise glanced at him and nodded.

  “You have my number. If you need anything, or if anything changes, do not hesitate to give me a call.”

  Denise nodded.

  “I got two men watching this place, but I doubt anyone knows she’s here.”

  Denise only listened. She didn’t reply.

  Earlier, Terri had slipped her a .38 for protection. She had the revolver in her purse. She wasn’t a stranger to guns. And she wouldn’t hesitate to use it if her daughter’s life was put in danger again.

  Twenty-six

  Kola stepped into the seedy motel room in Jamaica, Queens. The cozy room with the provincial décor was comfortable enough to get business done. It was inexpensive, clean, and far away from the threat, if only temporary.

  The man she walked behind, the one who’d rented the motel room for the evening, was desperate for some action. He had a predatory smile as he sat on the bed and gazed at her. He had just picked up the young girl from the track on Rockaway Boulevard and couldn’t wait to get a piece of that candy.

  “You thirsty?” he asked.

  “No. Let’s just get this done,” she replied dryly.

  “Okay. A hundred, right?”

  Kola nodded.

  “You look so nice and sexy. I just want to touch you all over,” the chubby man with boyish features said.

  Kola rolled her eyes. She had no cash and hardly a place to stay. Too many men were after her, and keeping a low profile in Queens was her only option.

  “Come close,” he said, smiling.

  “You got condoms?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I do,” she said, reaching into her purse.

  The man started to unzip his jeans. He couldn’t wait to sink his manhood into such a pretty young girl. Her shapely body had him drooling, making his dick hard. He pulled down his jeans, revealing the tighty whities he had on. He sat back, ready for her.

  Kola wanted to throw up. What kind of man wears underwear like that? Pathetic. She stepped closer to the trick.

  “Ooooh, I want you to suck my dick first,” he said, his eyes wide, ready to be pleased by the young, dark-haired beauty. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “I know I am.”

  And in the blink of an eye, she pulled the .380 from her purse and shoved it into the man’s face. She scowled at him. “I’ll blow ya fuckin’ head off, muthafucka!”

  The trick became wide-eyed with terror. “What the fuck! You’re robbing me?”

  “Shut the fuck up!”

  Kola struck him with the butt of the pistol, and he tumbled over and started to bleed. He knew she wasn’t fucking around.

  Kola, needing some quick cash, made herself the perfect decoy. Being young, sexy, and beautiful, what dumb trick wouldn’t pick her up from the track and take her to a room?

  “Take off your fuckin’ clothes,” she instructed.

  The man hesitated.

  Kola raised the .380 to his head and cocked back the hammer. “Either way, dead or alive, I’ma take what I need from you.”

  He grimaced and did what he was told. He took off the remainder of his clothes slowly and tossed them to the floor.

  Kola snatched his pants from the floor and removed his lumpy wallet. She quickly went through it. He had nothing but twenties and fifties on him—five hundred eighty-five total in cash. She removed the cash and his car keys.

  “A’ight, you fat fuck, get ya fat ass in the bathroom,” she said, waving the gun at him.

  He slowly stood up and moved toward the bathroom. He didn’t take his eyes off Kola, fearing she was going to shoot him in the back. “Why are you doing this to me?” he asked.

  “’Cause you deserve it.” She pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door. “And don’t come out for a half-hour. If you do, I’ll kill you.”

  Kola hurriedly snatched up the man’s clothes, along with his cash and car keys and left with them out the motel door. She climbed into the front seat of his Chevy Cavalier and sped away. The money wasn’t much, but it would be very useful to her.

  Now she had to make a second stop.

  ***

  Kola ran up behind the young soldier and placed the pistol to his head, catching him off guard. He was coming out the liquor store and walking to his car. She slammed him against his car and shouted, “You lie to me, and I’ll blow ya fuckin’ head off!”

  The young soldier was ready to cooperate.

  “I’m gonna ask you some questions. You tell me what I need to know.”

  “What the fuck do you want from me?”

  “My sister, what hospital do they have her in?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Kola hit him with the butt of the pistol, and he went down stumbling. She stood over him with the gun trained at his head. “You think I’m the bitch you really need to fuck wit’?”

  The young soldier looked up at her, holding the side of his head. She glared down at him, ready to snatch away his life.

  Tommy was one of Terri’s goons. He was a loyal soldier, hard-core and careful, but he wasn’t careful enough. He didn’t look like much physically, but he had the heart of a lion.

  Kola had done some investigation of her own, and had started to follow the crew closely. It took time, but she finally got hold of a reliable source, and he disclosed the information she needed to know, which led her to Tommy.

  She stepped closer to Tommy and aimed the gun at his dick, threatening to blow off his family jewels. “Where is she?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  “Terri’s gonna kill me if I tell you anything.”

  She cocked back the hammer. “What you think I’m gonna do?”

  “Okay, okay. Shit. They took her to Long Island Jewish, but she’s protected. If you think you gonna take her out, it ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ easy.”

  “Who said I was goin’ to kill her?”

  The soldier looked confused.

  Kola wanted to kill him, but the gunfire would draw too much attention to her. So she removed the 9 mm he was carrying in his waistband and left in a hurry.

  ***

  Kola sat parked across the street from the hospital with a small arsenal under the driver’s seat. She sat low and watched the foot traffic come and go from the hospital lobby. The stolen Chevy she was in looked inconspicuous amongst the other cars on the block. The area was populated by white people, families, and medical staff parking their high-end cars in the parking lot across the street.

  Long Island Jewish Hospital was nestled in an affluent community in New Hyde Park. The suburban street with the two-story homes and mani
cured lawns was a contrast to her world, which these residents would never understand. It seemed like paradise out there with the tree-lined streets, pricy homes and cars, and two-car garages.

  “Fuckin’ Brady Bunch,” she said to herself.

  In Kola’s eyes, these people would be food in the hood. The wolves would devour everything they had in minutes.

  She sat for over an hour, trying to come up with a way to execute her plan. It was going to be difficult. Or maybe not. After all, she was family. But once she stepped into the hospital to visit Apple, what would the reaction be? She knew there had to be undercover agents all over the place, watching and observing visitors.

  And Apple’s goons were lurking about, but they would be easy to spot. In a place like Long Island Jewish, where white folks were predominant, a scowling black goon trying to fit in would be easy to pick out.

  Kola stuffed the .380 into the purse she carried and stepped out of the Cavalier. Clad in tight-fitting blue jeans, a trendy black shirt, and a pair of white Jordan’s, she gave herself an innocent college student look, styling her hair into a long ponytail. The Kola that strutted toward the hospital was cool and smiling. No one would guess she was a stone-cold killer, drug dealer, madam, and once led a violent drug crew from Harlem to Miami responsible for a half-dozen unsolved homicides.

  Kola stepped into the pristine lobby of the hospital, which was busy with staff and patients moving about. No one looked at her strangely. In their eyes, she was a pretty, young girl visiting a family member, maybe a grandma or a parent.

  She quickly took in her surroundings, and nothing seemed odd. There were more white faces than black, which was to be expected. She walked toward the reception desk and looked at the lady in the blue scrubs. The fair-skinned employee had her head down, reading something on her desk, and behind her were other female staff members engaged in their daily duties.

  “Excuse me,” she said with a smile.

  The woman picked her head up and looked at Kola. “Yes.”

  “I need some help. I’m lookin’ for my sister. I think she was brought into here a few days ago.”

  “Her name?”

  “Apple Martinez.”

  The lady started to type into her computer, logging into the main database and searching for the name. It only took a few seconds to look up, but the woman began to shake her head, indicating there was no record of an Apple Martinez being admitted into the facilities.

  “I’m sorry, but there’s no one by that name here,” she told Kola. “Are you sure this is the right name of the person?”

  Kola was sure. But then it came to her. Apple had enemies itching to see her demise, so she had to check in under an alias. Now it became difficult. Apple could have been admitted under any name, which would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

  Fuck! She thought. She didn’t come this far out to Long Island to be turned away. The lady gazed at Kola.

  “Thank you. I might be at the wrong hospital.”

  Kola walked away, but she didn’t plan on leaving. There had to be a way to find out what name her twin sister was admitted under, and what room she was staying in. She walked toward the modern-style cafeteria and looked around and waited. The place wasn’t too busy. People were spread about eating and talking.

  She had to be extra careful as she moved about. Anybody could be watching, and her enemies came in all forms. Her eyes darted everywhere, from the hallway to the individuals dining in the cafeteria. She was looking for that one particular person who would stand out, that goon she could catch slipping in a haven like Long Island Jewish.

  To fit in, Kola went to one of the several vending machines lining the entrance wall and got herself a few snacks to munch on. Then she took a seat at a table that had a panoramic view of the whole cafeteria, where she could see people coming and going.

  A half hour later, Kola zeroed in on one particular individual walking into the cafeteria. He stood out by his street attire—dark jeans, long T-shirt, Timberland boots, a skewed Yankees fitted on his head, and tattoos on his forearms. His whole demeanor screamed out trouble—he was a soldier.

  Kola watched him like a hawk. He went to the lunch counter and ordered a cheeseburger, French fries, and a large Coke. He then went over to the nearest table and began chomping down on his meal. Kola could tell that he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. She figured he had to have an ankle piece on him, probably trying to be discreet with his weapon in such a public place.

  Bingo! Kola thought.

  It took him less than five minutes to devour his food and burp it out like he was trying to win a contest. The rude burp attracted some attention from the other customers in the cafeteria, but everyone minded their business and continued eating and talking, mumbling under their breaths. The man got up and left his trash on the table.

  When he made his way out the exit, Kola stood up and started to follow him. She watched him go into the men’s bathroom. Now was her chance. She glanced around to make sure everything was clear before rushing into the bathroom. She found him taking a piss in one of the urinals.

  He noticed Kola coming into the bathroom and commented, “Damn, ma! You know you in the wrong bathroom.”

  He took a second look and suddenly realized she was Apple’s twin. He tried to react, but Kola had already pulled out her pistol and aimed it at him.

  “You fuckin’ move, and I’ll shoot ya dick off!”

  He stood frozen by the urinal. “What the fuck you want?”

  Kola moved closer. She crouched down a little to check underneath the stalls to make sure they were alone. “My sister’s room number and her alias, give it to me.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Kola screwed her face, becoming angry at his resistance. She had no time to waste. She was in a difficult situation, where anything could go wrong in the matter of seconds.

  “That’s a nice gun. What . . . a three eighty? A gun like that can make a loud noise in this small space.”

  “So you’re not as stupid as you look.”

  “I’m no genius, but I have my ways.”

  “Well, you know me, right?”

  “Your name rings out.”

  “All I’m asking for is my sister’s information. Let’s not make this difficult. I know ya muscle, but I need to see her.”

  “What? To talk it out? You know she’s in a coma, right? And, last I heard, you two hate each other.”

  “Things change.”

  “Fuck that! What’s in it for me?”

  “Everybody’s out for self,” Kola replied, shaking her head.

  Kola reached into her purse and pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills, money from different men she’d robbed. She tossed him three hundred dollars. “Is that incentive enough?”

  He picked it up. “Yeah. She’s in room five twenty as Jenny Sampson.”

  “A’ight. And your gun.”

  He smirked. “What gun?”

  “The one you carry on your ankle.”

  He chuckled. “You peeped that, huh?”

  “A bitch can never be too careful. I don’t want any incidents with a bullet in my back.”

  “If I’m gonna kill you, believe me, I want you to see it coming.”

  “Very well. Now, gun please.”

  He slowly reached down and pulled up his pants leg to reveal the holstered Glock 27 on his right leg. He removed it and slid it over to Kola. “Enjoy,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Kola picked it up and placed it in her purse. It was better safe than sorry. She then slowly made her way out the bathroom, leaving him dumbfounded. She got what she needed; now it was time to see her sister.

  The trip to Apple’s room seemed like the longest walk for Kola. The hallway was cluttered with doctors and staff, along with patients, and no one noticed the young, pretty girl in their domain. Kola moved naturally, wanting to give the impression that she belonged. She continued to keep an eye out for anyone or anything that stood out, meaning Apple’s s
oldiers. But on this floor, if you weren’t in a lab coat, scrubs, or had a nametag, then you were considered an outcast, a visitor.

  Kola spotted room 520. She took a deep breath and proceeded forward. So far, everything looked cool. There were no threats looming, and no one gave her any odd looks. She moved toward the doorway and there she was, Apple, dormant and looking like part machine and part female, with several wires and tubes protruding from her listless frame. And, surprisingly, there was Denise by her side looking like the loving mother. Kola was shocked to see her mother in the room.

  Kola just gazed at her twin sister from the doorway. Every time she saw her sister, it reminded her of Nichols’ murder. But she had to control that rage and anger toward her sister. Now wasn’t the place or time to be violent or hold any grudges. Apple was already suffering.

  Denise suddenly turned around. When she saw Kola standing in the doorway, her eyes got really wide with shock and worry. “Kola.”

  Kola remained silent. She stepped further into the room.

  “How did you find us?” Denise asked.

  Before Kola could answer, the sound of a hammer being clicked back alerted her to the threat behind the door. She stood still. It was a gunman watching over Apple. “Don’t move,” Terri said in a whispery growl.

  “I didn’t come as a threat,” Kola returned, keeping her cool.

  Terri kept the gun to her head. He wasn’t taking any chances. He asked for her to give up the purse, and Kola let him know she was carrying multiple weapons. He snatched the purse from around her arm and tossed it into the chair, keeping the gun close to her head while remaining in the shadows, out of the public’s view.

  “If I wanted my sister dead, then she would already be dead.”

  “Why are you here?” Denise asked.

  Kola gazed at her mother. “You two made up now?” she asked sarcastically.

  Denise stood up from her seat. It was an awkward moment to have her twin daughters in the same room. She eyed Kola with suspicion, waiting for an answer.

  “Can you please tell him to take the gun away from my head? I’m no longer a threat.”