Excerpt

“Beef knew it was over one way or another having pulled out the two .45’s he kept concealed in the holsters lodged underneath the pits of his arms, giving Rosy that look of loneliness on the super highway of life frozen like the many pictures of Outlaws whose card had been pulled. For him he had already suffered the worst of embarrassments, and his inability to wrap his mind around the idea that someone would host a party which required his crews local spot to bring out the velvet rope had him questioning a decade of control he thought he wielded in the Bone Field like a Nazi. Was it all an illusion! He wondered as his eyes floated up to the third Suburban pulling away from the four remaining Spree well rim-styled dubs on his teams unique vehicle’s. Was his team not iced and holding more dough then an oil baron! He turned to look at the faces of the aimless party goers lined up like cattle preparing to move into a bar that he believed carried the complexion of his Bone Field enterprise, and their nightly presence there sealed it as the it place in an area he pillaged like loose booty laying over the rippling sea of emotionless people. He wanted to feel the presence of death warming him like a heated cloak draped over the back of a cold maiden. “Ya’ll go over to the warehouse and wait for my call,” he said to Rosy who threw the car in drive and pulled off with Bonnie in her spirit, feeling his haunting gave covering her chilling spine.

Bagdad pulled out his nine millimeter, cocked back the hammer of the gun and turned to face the bouncer who’d caught his attention. The crowd was thrown aback with a lean as everyone held their breath, the bouncer stepping away waving his hands in mercy. Bagdad reached for a blunt which he had stashed in his right lapel pocket and lit it. “Yo my man, let me ask you a question,” he said elevating the man’s blood pressure. He stuttered trying to plead, “I, I don’t want no trouble player, no trouble at all.” The menacing gangster tilted his head like confusion with the gun hanging down besides the length of his body, with no movement, save his rising blunt hand; he took a pull, “Which one of you let them nigga’s up in there tonight!” The crowd went running up the street away from the bar in the direction leading away from Bagdad’s raised weapon, jerking to the multiple rounds firing from the automatic. The bullets leveled both the towering bouncers as Chaotic and Cream ran over to their vehicles holding up the two way traffic coming to a screeching halt as they moved towards their assault rifles in their trucks.

Beef stepped over the road kill and grabbed the front door handles to the pub, which looked like a pair of golden columns using his bottom fingers to grab. His destiny was beyond him now as the general became a front line soldier in an instant leading his team into the one place he’d avoided since winning the command of the Bone Field. War had stormed the path the gangster had chosen to walk, and there was nothing more for him to do but leap into the fiery abyss of battle which he knew may possibly lead to extinguishing of his turbulent life. The tables had turned on the gangsters luck, and if he didn’t act now it would be all lost. His fate may have been the work of a haunting life filled with tremendous pain, but he was a rider and like any Outlaw true to the game he welcomed the blaze of glory he longed for. He thought about Scarface, and Sonny from the Godfather, and knew that these two men would have done the exact same thing he knew in his mind he had to do; face the music of his choice.

It went without question that when a rival violated your territory in celebration, they had better be doing so in the drapes of glory that came with victory IN BATTLE!”