CHAPTER XV

20:45

Get Right saw the fear in the nigga face and a rush of power and satisfaction washed over him. Blue Boy's life was probably flashing right before his eyes. And indeed it was. Oh, well! Get Right thought about showing the nigga his face and saying something witty - Branson cringed inside and thought Get Right would do the same. Get Right squeezed the trigger of the .38 and a little over four pounds of pressure depressed a kickback mechanism inside a portable mechanical device. This action extruded a tiny projectile from its shell spring loaded from a magazine full of such projectiles. However, the projectiles were not made specifically for that firearm - it would be just another piece of misinformation on the crime scene. Some people lived to tell the tale of being shot in the head, or anywhere, for that matter. But the majority of point-blank range execution style shootings were fatal. Not everyone could be Fifty Cent or Beanie Sigel or Tupac (the first couple of times). Blue Boy was hurled back into a fridge, breaking the see-through glass. His eye was red and black where the bullet had entered. Get Right looked down at him and shot him again, and again, and again.

"AYO!" Branson yelled to him as customers screamed and took cover wherever they could find it in the back of the store. "If anybody come out this store in less than five minutes, you getting shot," Kingson called out as niggas anywhere near the store outside scrambled when Get Right coolly walked out, gun in hand, turning left around the corner and into the Civic.

He started taking off his clothes but kept the mask and dollar stretch wool gloves on. He started the car and impatiently awaited Branson, who waited a few seconds after Get Right walked out the store in case any heroes felt like being brave. No one moved. He also walked out calmly and turned left at the corner. The back door of the Civic was already partially ajar and the car was idling. He jumped in the back seat and lay down, peeling off his outer layer of clothes. Get Right had already turned his black mask around, which was now red, and had zipped his hoodie off, underneath which was a button down, long sleeve plaid shirt. They would be looking for two men in hoodies, possibly driving a vehicle. Get Right drove slowly, keeping his blood pressure down by often squeezing the steering wheel slowly. He noticed he was still wearing the gloves and mentally shrugged - there was no helping that; they couldn't afford for fingerprints to be left on any surface. Get Right drove up to Madison, turned right, drove to 123rd Street where he made a left, then drove all the way up to MLK Jr. Blvd. He kept driving but didn't make it to Adam Clayton Powell Avenue. Between these avenues was the parking lot to the Ennis Francis Houses that took up the entire block almost. A guard on the take rolled open the gate and Get Right drove in and parked in an out of the way corner. This was an old Civic, no GPS, so it couldn't be tracked that way.

The plan had changed: they wouldn't burn the car, after all. That would have caused a commotion and brought too much attention. So in the lot it would go. Bucky paid the rent for his shorty in the relatively newly renovated condominium. Get Right stepped out of the car with some Poindexter glasses and his mask still on. He walked out of the gate slowly and calmly, at his ease. Bucky appeared from inside the building and sent the guard to go get him some Chinese food while he waited. When the guard went outside of the partially open gate, Branson wiped the car down again on the inside and collecting their clothing items they had worn for the little mission. The clothes and shoes were in a black Hefty garbage bag. Branson smoothly handed the bag to Bucky with only the slightest of nods and walked out of the gate and down (left), in the opposite direction Get Right had gone ten minutes earlier. Bucky was supposed to have the items incinerated and the Civic completely washed and repainted. Strange, dangerous ane treacherous thoughts started rolling in his mind; he brushed aside these devilish thoughts and lighted a Newport. The same thoughts came slithering back into his mind as he again started looking at the Hefty.