Sex in the Hood Saga (56 page)

The Queen had no choice but to stay where she was with CoCo. Ping and Pong made that clear when they blocked her in when she tried to leave to find Knight.

“They won hands down,” CoCo said.

“Dick
down,” The Queen decided to just go along with CoCo and act interested because if she didn't she was sure she'd break down crying.
It's gonna be like Armageddon,
Celeste said.
The end of the world as you know
it.

The Queen didn't know what, but something beyond even her wildest imagination, which she thought had been stretched to the limits here in Babylon, was about to happen.

Didn't any of those people down in the audience feel it too? They were feeling something, because the main floor looked like a tangle of bodies, writhing, grinding, bobbing, bouncing, all with their faces toward the blue glow of the stage, so they could watch the spectacle of sex.

And the people in the balconies around her, didn't they feel the sinister vibe in the air that was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up? It was as strong as an electrical current pulsing through the air.

The Queen definitely took it as a bad omen that Brian was here inside Babylon, sitting so close to her, staring at her with hate in his blue eyes.

He'd smiled a few times at Tiffany, who had waved her bony hand at The Queen.

The Queen smiled, wondering if Tiffany knew that she was the reason that punk-ass Brian, suddenly had new front teeth. She still didn't understand how Brian hooked up with Moreno, whom she now was convinced, was the same man she'd seen at Brian's and Tiffany's parents' parties. And she'd all seen him at Daddy's office a few times. She just wanted to get as far away from his Lucifer-life aura as soon as possible.

Moreno kept staring at her as he put his embalmed-looking hand on the head of the girl who was sucking his dick. As she went up and down, it looked like he was dribbling a basketball. He cast lustful eyes at The Queen, his tongue flickering between his wet lips. When he mouthed, “You're mine,” The Queen shivered.

He knew something she didn't know. Only some sinister secret would give him the gall to act so bold on her husband's turf.

The Queen wanted so badly, to get up and run until she found Knight. She would grab his hand and together, they would run.

A giant hand gripped her shoulder, and she froze.

It was Pong's. He and his brother were motioning for her and CoCo to follow them. The expressions on their faces let them know that they weren't escorting the ladies to a champagne toast at the after party.

Moreno was on the phone with his commander, who gave a move-by-move report.

The battalion was charging the tunnel leading from the Detroit River. These young men and women whom he had recruited from ravaged areas of Ireland, Bosnia, Israel, and every inner city in America were trained and ready to kill. They specialized in storming buildings full of people and getting them all under control in a matter of minutes. So that Moreno could get what he wanted and leave just as quickly.

The thunder of their feet echoed up the metal staircases into the first floor, second floor, and third floor of The Playhouse.

Red had a floor plan of the building thanks to Flame down in Mexico. A comrade had interviewed the exiled Stud, who had been delighted to share confidential information about the secret tunnels.

A bit of C4 explosives on the vault and the millions would be his. Then his troops would head up to wherever Knight was hiding. They'd kill him, take Cleopatra, and get to work.

Merging this urban empire with Moreno Enterprises, would take work. The transition could get rocky, if they encountered any opposition from the staff, but they were used to being ruled with an iron fist. So it would be only a matter of time before they got used to having a white man call the shots.

Red Moreno watched the dick-sucking contest on stage as he calmly gave orders into his cell phone. Some of his troops were about to barge into the vault room while others were seeking out Knight and Cleopatra.

Then Red would have five minutes to extricate the lovely girl from his lap, meet with his commander, and ride away with Cleopatra and twenty-five million dollars.

“What the fuck!” Paul exclaimed as dozens of white men and women in brown jumpsuits stormed up into The Playhouse from the river tunnel. But they weren't feds. Then who the hell were they?

Paul stood in the center of Cairo, watching the monitors. He felt helpless, like all the wild cards he'd never even thought of were being played at once. How could he trump all that by himself? Because even the top-security Barriors and B'Amazons here in Cairo were staring wide-eyed at the monitors.

But Knight was heading down to the third floor to pounce on Duke, while Ping and Pong were bringing The Queen and CoCo up here. All the while, the show was still going on in the auditorium, and thousands of people were partying on every floor of the building.

It looked like the fed vans were starting to move in. The video monitors from the outdoor cameras showed the vans steadily creeping up the street, and the cameras on the roof showed two choppers hovering close, while Coast Guard boats were bobbing just beyond the marina.

Paul punched a single button on his console to reach Knight's cell phone. “Answer!” he exclaimed.

If Knight walks up on those white soldiers storming down the third floor hallway, toward the vault—
Paul stood in disbelief. The white folks in brown jumpsuits burst into the vault room.

Duke, Dickman, and Rip Masta all drew guns. Bullets blasted and bodies dropped.

The floor shook. A gray cloud rolled up toward the monitors.

“Somebody blew something up,” Paul exclaimed. And the vault room monitors went black.

“There's Duke!” A Barrior pointed to another screen. “In the hallway.”

A B'Amazon said, “Here comes Knight!”

A gray dust cloud rolled into the hallway, where people were running, coughing, and blasting guns at each other.

Paul's brain was a tornado. Should I ignite the moat? Put the rooftop snipers on alert? Sound the alarm? How far had The Queen and CoCo made it? Since the auditorium was on the first and second levels, and the vault was on the third floor, were they caught in that chaos? Had the explosion blown through the floor?

No, the music was still blasting in the auditorium; those sex-crazed folks didn't hear or see a thing. On the monitors, they were transfixed on the Longest Fuck contest on stage, where five couples remained in a frenzied fuck-a-thon.

He almost laughed. If this joint was about to blow up, then those Studs were the luckiest dudes in the building because they'd die fuckin'.

Paul felt dizzy. “What the hell should I do right now?”

Knight had to find The Queen. They had to get out now. He could do without waiting on Jamal; he could make do with the twenty-five million he already had.

Knight coughed on the gray dust in the dimly lit hallway. He stepped over a white man in brown who was groaning on the floor.

The Queen.
Knight's legs pumped with bionic speed. Holding his breath against the dusty smoke, he ran down the hallway to meet Ping and Pong just as they brought his goddess and CoCo up to Cairo on the ninth floor. He charged into the stairwell, taking the black metal steps three at a time. His heart throbbed with pain as he huffed, finally reaching the eighth floor landing.

One more to
go.

He'd get The Queen, tell Paul to ignite the moat, and dash to the boat. As he ran up the final flight, he heard voices. Saw several pairs of black Tims, and pink leather stiletto boots. Two pairs.

His heart stopped, or at least it felt that way.

The Queen was standing there, wide-eyed with fear, as Li'l Tut wrapped his arm around her neck and aimed a gun at Knight. “Deja vu, muthafuckaaaaa!” Li'l Tut teased with a crazed look in his eyes. With that raw wound on his cheek, he looked like Freddy Krueger. His voice echoed off the exposed brick of the stairwell. Then he imitated the twang of a cowboy, “Time for a showdown, sheriff.”

Dickman and Rip Masta, plus three of their homies, were all pointing guns at Ping, Pong, and CoCo. The thugs let out deep, sinister laughs.

Knight's chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.

He stared his brother in the eye. Then he glanced at The Queen. The terror on her face, and the tremble of her body which in eight months would deliver their baby Prince of peace, riled up something in his soul.

On video monitors, Paul watched the showdown in the stairwell. He mobilized snipers to take out Duke and his crew.

A rifle-carrying battalion of Barriors and B'Amazons was already stomping those crazy folks in brown jumpsuits down in the tunnel. The lower stairwells, and the hallway led to the already empty vault.

“Paul.” A Barrier pointed to monitors showing the vans full of federal agents. They were approaching; some of the SWAT looking officers were piling out in front of the building.

“Inferno!” Paul commanded.

Suddenly all the fear and worry and confusion melted. He knew exactly what he had to do.

The Barrior walked to the red panel and flipped the switch.

A wall of fire rose up in front of The Playhouse. The SWAT dudes shielded their faces and ran back.

As Jamal announced the winners of the Longest Fuck contest, the audience screamed, shrieked and even squirted cum up toward the stage. The whole joint was as orgified as any Babylon party was supposed to be.

Jamal wanted to know why the fuck CoCo and The Queen had disappeared during the hottest event of the night. If they were that horny, they coulda done each other right there in the box and let him glance up for a peek. Or they could've waited another twenty or thirty minutes for him and Knight to all get on the boat and get freaky together before the honeymoon lovebirds left to do their own thing.

Fuck!
Deep down in his trembling gut, he knew the reason the girls were gone was much more serious than them wanting to get their freak on.
Somethin' ain't right.

Duke was supposed to page him but hadn't; Knight was supposed to call him but hadn't.

CoCo normally would've text messaged him something nasty to tease him and tell him where she was, and she hadn't. And why the fuck did the floor shake like that? Even with these superhuman fuck machines on the stage, nothing right could rock the house like that.

Plus, why had that spooky lookin' Moreno dude and his crew just up and left in a huff while their team was winning too? It didn't make sense.

Now, Jamal still had to oversee all the winners as they collected their cash prizes from that little, guarded room backstage. The Barriors and B'Amazons were delivering the cash to each of them in Babylon's trademark gold treasure chests, and they were getting high security escorts out of the auditorium.

In another room, all the cats who were high on booze, booty, and blunts were collecting their winnings for the bets they'd placed on each event.

Jamal loved the excitement and the eroticism and the enterprising spirit of the night. Naw, he didn't need Duke to run this shit. It was too much responsibility to share with that hothead. Plus, the millions of dollars in the house right now, made Beat bang for a hot second.

Knight remembered his favorite scenes in all those wild, wild west movies when the cowboy would draw his guns with lightning speed, blast away his enemies, and make off with the girl, the money, or simply his life.

Right now, as he stared at the defiantly crazy look in Li'l Tut's eyes and the horrifically terrified expression on The Queen's face, he was about to reenact one of those scenes.

Ping and Pong were so quick, they could do the same in a split second, to take care of Li'l Tut's punks.

Question was, which gun should he reach for first? The one in the waistband of his pleated black Armani silk pants? The one in the holster under his shoulder? Or the two in his black leather cowboy boots?

With his free hand, Li'l Tut yanked down The Queen's camisole, and her titties popped out.

“Eh, big bro', remember when you took my bitch? She was sittin' naked on my dick at my birthday party, and you just lifted her off like you used to do when we was small, always stealin' my favorite toy for yourself?” Li'l Tut tossed back his head, making his sinister laughter echo up the stairwell.

Knight half-winked at Ping and Pong. It was too subtle for those knuckleheads, Dickman and Rip Masta, to catch. It meant, “Do like I do, when I do it.”

The Queen's mind was racing with thoughts as she crossed her arms over her bare breasts. If she still had her gun in her boot, now wouldn't have been the time for her to try to draw it.

Just before Li'l Tut looked back down, Knight cast a look at her saying, “I got ya back, Tinkerbell.”

As he held a gun in his left hand, Li'l Tut used his other hand to yank down the zippers on each hip of her pink leather pants. The fabric fell down, exposing her still flat belly, where her and Knight's baby was growing. Li'l Tut's scarred hand pulled down her hands. He squeezed her breasts, pulling them up to cover her
Cleopatra of the Knight
tattoo. He unbuckled his baggy jeans and let them fall to the floor. His dick, big, hard, and bloody from a nasty gash on the shaft, swung out, and hit her leg.

“Yeah, we gon' do a
deja vu
moment all the way, big bro'. We gon'—”

Perfect aim. Perfect shot. Right in the forehead.

Like the sharpshooter muthafuckas that they were, Ping and Pong, shot down Rip Masta, Dickman, and the two other thugs in a flash.

Then, like a giant robot switched into bionic gear, Knight swooped The Queen up in his arms, while Ping grabbed CoCo.

The men stepped over the mess on the landing. And headed up to Cairo.