David was in pain. He heard several voices but couldn't tell what they were saying, his body felt exhausted. He kept hearing his mother's voice in his head to survive. He wanted to call her, tell her how he was feeling. Just to hear a few words of wisdom from her. But he felt like he wasn't to; he was held captive. He tried opening his mouth, to speak, but it was hard to. Slowly he used his tongue, to check if he was missing any teeth. After a quick check, it was safe to say that he wasn't missing any. He tried to figure out why he couldn't see, until he realized that he had a blindfold on.
"R…Randy?" David said slowly as he looked around and tried to move his body. He was tied to a chair. He didn't hear anything. "Randy!" David called out loudly only wince cause of the pain in his mouth.
"Yeah, I'm here," Randy said slowly. He was bound as well to a chair behind David. "Where the hell are we?"
"I don't know…I hear machines. Think we're in a factory." David realized. He also felt a draft blow in the room they were in. David shivered all over, as he then realized something. He was naked. "Shit, I think we're naked."
"I was just about to say that…fuck!" Randy said shaking his head. "Great we're naked, bound, and blindfolded. What do you think they are going to do to us?"
"These are psychotic Caribbean who slice-n-dice first and don't even bother asking questions." David said struggling to get out of the ropes. "How did they find you?"
"I was just minding my business, and I passed up on a cute girl on the corner. So I pulled up on her and we started talking. Little did I know the bitch was working with the Yardies, and I drove like hell. I thought I had gotten away and pulled on the corner."
"And that's when they jumped you?"
"No," Randy replied, shaking his head. "I fought two of them when I pulled up here. One of them got me pretty good, but the other one took a bullet in his gut. Speaking of which, I saw you get shot. How bad is it?"
"Hurts like hell, but I feel like they stitched it up." David said groaning a bit in pain as the wounds throbbed. "I'm sorry I couldn't fight them all."
"Look…it's quite alright. I'm not mad at you. I'm just mad at the fuck they stripped us naked. Fuck it's cold out here. You sure we're in a factory, and not outside?" Randy asked.
"Believe me, you're in a factory that's for sure. A factory used for Bitchin Dog Food. Also a bit of a drug lab on the side used for SPANK."
Quincy took the blindfolds off both brothers as they realized who it was. He stared at David as a large group of Yardies stared at them talking and laughing at them. The factor looked dank and dark, as loud machines followed by clicks and whirs. The smell of machine oil, and something rotten filled David's nostrils as he looked at Quincy menacingly.
"The fuck do you want from us?" David shouted.
"Your lives to be honest," Quincy said as a Yardie walked up to him, and handed him a long case. Quincy opened it, revealing a machete. It was silver bladed with a golden handle encrusted with several diamonds. There was engraving on the blade and the handle that would've made it look more like a collector item rather than a weapon.
"Just like that you're gonna kill us?" Randy said as he felt his legs start to shake when he stared at the blade.
"Well, I want to know a few things about you two before you die," Quincy replied as he picked up the machete and pointed it at David. "Especially you. I see you more times, than I need to. "
"What can I say?" David said with a short laugh.
"How about you tell me, who do you work for?"
Randy and David looked at each other, and laughed, only causing Quincy to become even more pissed off. He shut up David, by hitting him with handle of the machete against his face. Before Randy could say anything, he was hit across the face also.
"Once again, who do you work for?"
David spat blood on the floor as he looked at Quincy with a blood dripping smirk. "Your mother...takes it up the ass."
Quincy backhanded David across the face even harder. "You want to fuck with me you fucking prick?"
"Why would I fuck with you? I'd rather just watch you get pissed…and laugh my ass off." David said laughing hysterically. His laughter was cut off by a few short seconds as Quincy then took the machete and sliced at David's chest, causing him to scream loudly. It wasn't a deep cut, but good enough to causing him to bleed.
"You think it's funny now!?" Quincy shouted.
"OH MY GOD! DAVID!" Randy shouted as he heard his younger brothers screaming. "You motherfucking, bitch ass, cocksucker! You're gonna wish you never fucked with us!"
Ignoring Randy, Quincy looked at David gritting his teeth in pain. "Several weeks ago you went and stole a large shipment of parts from me…you also killed my cousins, and several members of my family as well as good friends…care to explain yourself?
Panting heavily, David looked at him. "You think I'm going to tell you anything…you have me mistaken for somebody else."
"All I want is a simple explanation…and you get to die a quick death. I'm a man of my word."
"Well, I guess, we're gonna be here all night, cause we aren't gonna say shit!" Randy declared.
"Is that right?" Quincy said as he raised an eyebrow. He went over to Randy as he stared at him challengingly.
"Yeah, that's right right…come on you fucking pussy…think you're the shit cause you got us tied up? You ain't shit Quincy! You ain't AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Randy screamed at the top of his lungs as Quincy made an incision against his thigh. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! AHHHH GOD!"
"You feel like telling me who the fuck you work for?!" Quincy said shouting at Randy.
"Bro…don't say nothing!" David yelled, groaning from the pain.
"You shut the fuck up!" Quincy bellowed as he put the machete to David's chest and pulled back and placed a jagged scar across his chest.
David bled and screamed a slew of cuss words at Quincy as he glared at him. "You're…gonna….oh my fucking God. This hurts." David confessed to how he was feeling. His breathing was severally ragged. He then felt something thrown on his causing him to scream even louder. It was salt.
"Does it hurt asshole? You gonna talk to me now, how about it?"
David looked at him and spat a glob of blood at Quincy's white dress shirt. He chuckled slightly. As he glared at him, he said, "How about you take that machete and stick it up your ass...see if it fits."
Quincy wasn't moved by the insult as he placed a slice on David's arm, causing him to bleed. He was then handed a small cup. Inside the cup contained vinegar, and iodine. He stared at the contents as he poured some on the cuts, causing David to shriek and convulse.
"The fuck did you pour on him?! What the fuck was that?" Randy wondered as he tried to look at what was going on, but could only hear his brother's cries and screams.
"Nothing than a bit of iodine and vinegar can't fix…or hurt him for that matter," Quincy said smirking. "The same thing can happen to you, if you don't tell me what I want to hear."
There was only silence.
"You know people like you amaze me," David said quietly.
"Excuse me? People like me?" Quincy wondered.
"Yeah…especially you," David spoke louder as he looked up at him. Fatigue was written on his face as blood and spittle oozed out of his mouth and, landed on his chest. "You think you're doing yourself and your crew, by killing two killers…well what is gonna get you? Is it gonna get your shit back? Is it going to bring back your relatives that we gunned down? No! It isn't! You're still going to have that emptiness in your heart, no matter what you do to us…especially me."
"I think you need to choose the next set of words very carefully, if you value your pitiful life." Quincy warned.
"He's right man…just shut up!" Randy cried out, as he took a slice to his leg, causing him to wallow in pain.
David scoffed as he ignored his brother's suggestion. "Pitiful? Coming from the man who killed his own fucking father to control the Yardies? Well…aren't you something."
Quincy decked David hard against the face, followed by backhanding him several times. "I did what I had to do!"
David chuckled. "Sure you did. You killed your father, took over his crew, and turned them from vicious but respectful thugs, into something that makes the Bloodhounds look like the goddamn Costa Nostra. Such. Fucking. Progress. Your father would be proud to have a son like you. From what I also hear, you try to give back to the black community, but what? I don't see any buildings or anything good coming from you, other than giving junkies a quick fix for twenty bucks a pop. In my case, I'm trying to do what's right, a restaurant in my mother's honor…let's face it," David looked right at Quincy's eyes and started to laugh even harder. "I'm blacker than you."
Hearing that last bit, drove Quincy off the deep end. His eyes were red as he gripped the machete so tight; his knuckles were starting to turn white. David continued to laugh even harder as he knew that he touched a nerve in Quincy. Randy looked at his younger brother like he was out of line, and was even more scared than before.
"I'm going to cut your fucking heart out you guinea motherfucker!" Quincy screamed as he brought the machete back.
"You think you're so fucking tough, untie me, and let's see how much of a badass you are! You're the great King Quincy of the Yardies aren't you? So prove me otherwise you sack of shit!"
As Quincy roared in a fit of rage, he swung the blade towards David. His cell phone began to ring and vibrate. He stopped as he felt the phone ring once again. The machete was only an inch away from David's face as Quincy took a step back and answered.
"This better be good." Quincy said on the phone.
Fuck that was close! David thought while he let out a breath. He felt his brother shake, and praying. He couldn't tell if it was from the loss of blood or the adrenaline kicking in. "Randy, just relax." He whispered
"Relax? You have a fucking knack for pushing the wrong buttons on the wrong kind of people, and you're telling me to relax?" Randy whispered as he stared at Quincy pacing back and forth.
"We'll pull through this. Don't worry." David assured.
"Why, you got a plan?"
David smirked. I always do, he thought. He moved his wrist a bit and felt the rope start to come loose. He felt it loosen a bit and grabbed on it, pretending to make it look tight in front of Quincy. He looked around and saw that there was at least twenty of them, all armed. He then saw several every day tools laying around including a screwdriver that was close by to a table saw.
"Fine, we can discuss this when I arrive. I'll supply the SPANK to you. Sixty kilos today and another sixty tomorrow. Just have the money ready Bye." Quincy hung up. He glared at the two brothers and grinned. "Somebody must be praying for you two. I have a business matter to discuss with the Triads. Won't take that long…after I come back…I'm going to watch you two suffer, and bleed slowly. And when that's done, I'll make sure you two are grounded up into dog food. Every dog and stray mutt in Daytona will be happy."
"Yeah, yeah." David said dismissively. He then felt the blade touch upon his neck and kept still; glaring hard.
"You however…I'm going to sever your fucking head and display it for all around to see. Killing you will be a pleasure."
"I'd like to see you actually try," David grinned.
Quincy stared at him, full of hatred, as he signaled for several of his crew to go with him. "I want a few of you get the drugs ready, you guys come with me, the rest of you, watch these two." He walked over to Belizean thug and whispered. "I need you to watch these guys. They try anything…beat them within an inch of their lives."
"I understand."
"Let's go people! We got some money to make." Quincy yelled as he started walking away.
"Hey! Quincy!" David shouted.
Quincy turned his head to see David smile from ear to ear. "What is it?"
"Have a great night." David grinned, spitting blood on the cold floor.
Quincy snarled as he walked away, along with a large group of Yardie gangsters. They all exited out of a door, till there was only a small few in the factory. The ones that were ordered to make the drugs scrambled to their stations and started producing SPANK. Those who were told to keep a look out on David and Randy walked around, carrying their weapons, talking, playing around on their cell phones, or watching TV over by a small rundown office.
Still in pain, David looked around, wondering which Yardie was closer and the closes place to fins cover. He saw a metal desk covered with several heavy looking bags covering it. Alright…found cover. He thought as he saw one of the Yardies walk over smoking. And I found the perfect fool…hope to God this works. "Hey!" David called out.
"Shut ya mouth!" The thug bellowed. He took a drag on his cigarette as he looked away.
"Wait, I was wondering…you got a smoke?" David said pretending to sound weak. "I mean, we're gonna die, I might as well have one before he kills us."
The Yardie looked at him and nodded slowly. "Alright…fine." He walked over to David, pulling out a small pack of Redwood cigarettes and pulled out one. "Open." He instructed. David opened his mouth till he was given the cig. "Does your brother want to smoke?"
"No, that's fine…I'm scared out of my fucking mind to do so." Randy said still shaking.
As the Yardie pulled out a lighter and lit the cig for David, he took a long drag, and blew a puff of smoke to the side. "So, tell me…those drugs flammable? I mean looks like you got a bunch of chemicals here."
"Yeah, what's it to you? Want to do a little SPANK before your time comes?" The Yardie said laughing.
"No…but I bet you do." David said with a smirk as he broke free of the ropes. The Yardie thug had a surprised look on his face as he felt the rope go over his neck. David pulled back hard with one hand, and grabbed the thug's weapon with the other hand. It was an AK-47 with the stock missing, but an extended clip. Grabbing the weapon, he saw a few of the others go for theirs. He had to make every shot count or they would try to kill Randy.
Taking a deep breath, David raised the weapon and aimed at the closest Yardie and pulled the trigger. The loud clatter of the weapon echoed throughout the whole factory, as the hollow tipped slugs met with the Yardie's gut. The rounds entered and blew out from his back, killing him on the spot. The next target was a Yardie on a torn up couch reaching for his Neostead shotgun. He had body armor on, so it had to be a headshot. David aimed the weapon and tapped the trigger gently. Although one bullet missed him by an inch, the other three didn't as they bore through his face, disfiguring and dropping him on the spot.
"DAVID, LOOK OUT!" Randy shouted as he ducked down.
David whipped his head and saw one of the workers running down the stairs, aiming a pistol at him and fired twice. The .380 slugs went into the Yardie that David was using for cover. While they went into the poor man's chest, killing him, their movement stopped as they just about to exit out of his body. He turned his head and saw the one that shot at him and pulled the trigger hard. A burst of gunfire ripped into his chest, spraying blood on the rail and the steps. He slipped on the blood, causing him to scream in a feminine manner and fall down the stairs.
As scared as he was, Randy poked his head from cover. Acting as a spotter, he looked at who was closest to them. He then saw a Mac-11 submachine gun laying around, and went for it. Checking the magazine, he saw it was fully loaded. All his fears quickly dissipated from his body as he cocked the weapon, and rose from the desk.
"Eat lead motherfuckers!" Randy shouted as he aimed at some of the workers running away and pulled the trigger. A spray in .380 caliber armor piercing form instantly killed three of the workers, while two of them were critically wounded. He saw David push the guy he held to take up the bullets to the floor, and make a fast dash towards the bloodied couch. "The hell are you going?" He yelled.
"Shotgun!" David yelled, sprinting towards the dead Yardie, and grabbing his Neostead. He smiled at the design and saw one of them hiding behind a barrel. He had to admit, going against the Yardies, completely naked, was a fools choice. But it was ether this or death. "I see you, you bastard!" David yelled as he fired the shotgun twice. The pellets struck the Yardie on the side of his face, causing the thug to shriek and fall, holding his face and screaming obscenities.
"We gotta find a car!" Randy yelled as he shot at a retreating Yardie in the back of his thighs, causing him to fall down. He struggled to roll around and fire, but was greeted to a bullet in the throat, thanks to Randy's weapon.
"There are any!" David said firing at a worker, ripping his heart into hamburger with twelve gauge fury.
"So, how the fuck do we get out of here!"
"I'll figure something out! Just don't get shot!" David said firing another hail of buckshot towards a fleeing worker's back, critically wounding him.
The Belizean thug that was given charge of everything in the factory watched the carnage unfold around him as a few workers ran away, a few Yardies firing their weapons erratically and failing to get either one of them killed. Fuming at what he was witnessing. He pulled out a black .44 Desert Eagle. He took aim at the closest DePalma, which would've been Randy as he went to reload his Mac-11.
"RANDY!" David shouted as he noticed. He aimed the shotgun and prayed it would make it, and fired twice.
The thunderous boom of the Desert Eagle, hurt his hand slightly as the forty-four caliber bullet missed Randy's arm by an inch. The thug cussed loudly as he then felt a heavy thump against his stomach. He then felt it hit him against his legs, and cried out in pain.
"Thank God," David muttered joyfully. He got up and looked around. He only saw a few that were either dying, or already dead. He then saw the Yardie that was left in charge struggling to get away. He then walked over, holding the shotgun, and aiming right at him, ready to put another shower of twelve gauge buckshot into him, in case he tried to pull something sneaky. As soon as he walked over to him, he pointed the shotgun at him. "Turn over."
"Fuck you." The Yardie mumbled as he struggled to get up, only to be kicked in the midsection."
"That wasn't a goddamn request!" Randy yelled kicking him against his side hard.
"The fuck do you wan with me for?" The Yardie wondered
"I want to send Quincy a message…and sadly," David said as he pointed towards a bunch of chemicals. "And sadly, you're going to be my little telegram." With that, he grabbed him by the foot and dragged him towards the lab. "Randy, find a gun and watch my back."
Randy did so, picking up a Gali Mar assault rifle, and checking the magazine. It had a full clip. Pulling the rack on the weapon, he walked ahead of the two towards the lab. When he got closer to it, he saw two workers ducking behind several plastic crates. He couldn't decide if they were that stupid to hide behind stuff that was so flimsy or scared and went to the first place they could find. Randy whistled at them, getting their attention, and aimed.
"Knock, knock!" Randy said smiling, as he pulled the trigger. A burst of gunfire erupted from the weapon as he killed one of the workers. The other worker watched his buddy die right in front of him, and screamed in fear.
"Please! Don't!" The worker begged.
"Don't what? Let you live? Well, alright," Randy shrugged jokingly, as shot up the worker in his upper torso, overkilling him in the process.
"You finished?" David said looking, and sounding irritated.
"Yeah, just about David. Come on, let's bring him in."
David's brother helped him as they walked inside the lab. The area was somewhat clean, apart from the dead thugs Randy killed. There were a few broken glass bottles on the floor, but it was in the corner. Most of the chemicals were flammable, but thankfully, none were broken.
"You got a phone on you?" David asked, as he looked at several bottles.
"Why? The Yardie said, spitting out blood as he glared at David.
"My brother asked you a question. So answer it." Randy demanded as he hit him hard against the chest.
"Yeah! Argh…fuck."
"Good, hand it over. Don't try anything funny" David warned. The Yardie did what he was told and handed the cell. David scrolled down the contacts list. "Eddie, Richard, Steven, Walter? You sure have a couple of guys on here man. Something I don't know?"
The guy looked away embarrassed and mumbled.
"I'm sorry, say that again?" David said he got closer.
"I'm…gay."
Randy's eyes went wide. "Oh fuck no! We're fucking naked, in a room with a gay guy? Fucking sending a message! I say we put a shell in his face!"
"Relax; he isn't going to do anything to us. Cause if he even so much as looks at us funny, he's going to die. In the meantime, pass me three of those bottles over there." David pointed at a shelf.
Randy walked away from the guy and grabbed three bottles. The bottles were a pale greenish color, and filled to the brim with a liquid. Setting the gun down, he grabbed the three David pointed and set them right by wounded Yardie.
"What's your name?" David wondered as he finally found Quincy's number.
The Yardie hesitated for several seconds and answered, "Trevor."
David nodded. "Well, Trevor…do you know anything about ammonia?"
"No. I don't." Trevor muttered in fear.
"Well, I know it's used in all various types of drugs. Meth, is a perfect example." David said as he grabbed a funnel. "I also know that, consuming this…can be poisonous, if not fatal. Should you die from this, the body goes through a systematic shutdown. You feel weak, the heart stops, the lungs don't work, the muscles in your body relax, you then, piss and shit on yourself…and then stop moving." He then put the funnel in Trevor's moth and looked at him as he dialed the phone to Quincy. "Isn't biology fun Trevor?"
Trevor shook in fear as he was starting to get up, only to be pushed and held down by the end of a shotgun, held by Randy. Trevor's muffled cries grew louder as he then heard David talk on the phone.
"Hello Quincy? Hey, how are you doing? No, this isn't Trevor…its David. Yeah, I got a hold of your right hand man's phone. Where is he?" David said with a slight chuckle. "I have him on a slab, and ready to be force fed some ammonia." Trevor started to scream as David glared at him hard and slapped him against his face. "Hey, hey! Shut the hell up! I swear to God, your partner here screams like a woman." He signaled Randy to pour the bottle, which he did so. As the green liquid run down the funnel, Trevor's eyes went completely wide with fright as he started to struggle. He tried to hold his breath, making sure he wouldn't swallow any, but David saw what he was trying to do, and punched him in the throat. This caused him to swallow a portion of it. He coughed violently, only for more of the stuff to enter in his throat, and into his system.
"Now I'm sure you're wondering, if he's doing alright…take a good listen. Hey Trevor!" David placed the phone towards Trevor. "Let him know that I'm not playing." The gargling sounds of Trevor screaming and groaning in pain were loud and clear on the phone. "Thanks buddy, you can die now. Now where was I? Oh yeah, you wanted to fuck with me? So I'm going to fuck with you tenfold. After he dies, I'm going to burn up your entire lab. You talk about you have a partnership with the Triads. I wonder what would happen to that partnership, when you lose half of their tribute. You have yourself a great night…oh and by the way…this is what happens, when you fuck with a DePalma."
The hitman hung up the phone and threw it against the counter. David watched him for several seconds before twitching and foaming out of the funnel. He glared at him hard and smirked. Randy caught notice of this and shook his head.
"You pretty fucking crazy, you know that?" Randy said as he then heard a guy from outside groan out in pain. "I think we left one."
"Go check it out then. Be careful man." David said as he looked at Trevor convulse and die in front of him.
As Randy stepped out he saw a Yardie thug slowly limping away. He was muttering to himself, as well as bleeding heavily due to the bullet holes in the back of his thighs and shoulder. "Just where the hell do you think you're going?" he yelled as he brought the gun up and fired off several rounds from the shotgun.
The Yardie turned around in a desperate attempt as he brought his pistol up and fired as well. The buckshot from Randy's shotgun, stuck him in his chest and stomach as he fell to the floor dead, while the bullets that came out of Yardie's pistol, were way off and instead struck a large propane tank causing it to rupture and explode.
David felt a rumble as he stumbled and looked outside. The place was now on fire, as David heard Randy screaming. "The fuck just happened!?"
Randy came back in running, with a look of worry on his face. "Some Yardie tried to shoot me, but he blew up some fuel tank or something. I got him though!"
"We gotta get the fuck out of here." David declared as he tried looking for s gun.
"Are you serious? It's probably cold as fuck outside, and need I remind you, we're assed out…literally!"
David slapped him. "You don't think I already know that!? Look, we got a choice; deal with the cold and the worst case is we get the flu for a few days, or become burn victims or worse, two barbequed Italians. I already know what choice I'm dealing with, so stop being a pussy and let's go!"
Randy nodded and held his weapon tightly. "After you then…and stop slapping me!"
"Stop being stupid, and I won't have to," David said as he found a Glock 17 pistol in Trevor's pocket. He checked and saw that he had a full clip and began to head down the stairs "Come on!" David yelled.
The fire kicked up as several barrels exploded and much more of the place started to burn up. With the drugs, chemicals, and anything marked 'flammable', the entire factory was going to go up quicker than a book of matches. Randy grabbed a hold of his shotgun and the two ran out of the factory quickly, not looking back. Outside, they saw that there weren't any cars outside, and that it was raining heavily.
Panting, David looked around for a car around the area and came across a burgundy 1986 Sentinel XS sitting by a broken bench. Smiling he ran towards it and checked to see if there was any keys in the car. No such luck. Muttering a curse, he opened the car door and got inside.
"What's your plan?" Randy queried.
"Hotwire the car, drive us the fuck out of Little Kingston, and get back at that fucker for cutting us up and torturing us." David said as he tried looking for the wires. "The fuck are they? They should be around the steering column!"
"Maybe it's around the radio?" Randy guessed.
"No, its around here…it always is…oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck!" David yelled as he shit the center of the steering wheel. "There's no wire around it."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, I can't hotwire the car. Meaning, we can't get this car to move. Meaning, we're fucked!"
It took a few seconds to piece everything that his brother had said. When it finally made sense, Randy gritted his teeth in anger. "Oh this is just fucking perfect! We're stuck out here, its raining, we're naked, we barely have any ammo, we're naked…"
"You said that already," David said in a monotone voice.
"I know that! I'm just reminding the reader," Randy said breaking the fourth wall and crossing his arms. "So what's your plan now big shot?"
David sighed, "We move on foot…maybe find some clothes, catch a bus heading back to the Red Light District."
"Excuse me? On foot?" Randy said bewildered.
David stared at his brother. "You got a better plan, I'm open to suggestion, but for right now, we go on foot, because the longer we stay here, Quincy will come back, and since his factory is up in flames, he'll kill us. Slowly. Now let's go."
Randy nodded as they both got out of the car and into the cold rain. He shuddered from the chill as he followed David as they started to run. The two of them crossed the busy streets, startling the drivers, and excited one female driver who cheered.
"So what do we do we do first?" Randy asked as they jogged running past a couple that looked at them stunned.
"Find a clothing store…or clothes on a wire…any clothes pretty much!" David said as they saw a police cruiser and headed towards an alley.
"Think he saw us?" Randy wondered as he nearly stepped on the tail of a black stray cat.
"Don't think so. Don't worry about the cop, just worry about finding some clothes." David said looking behind him to see if anyone was following them.
Back over at the burning factory, Quincy stared at the blazing inferno. He didn't show it, but he was pissed off like never before. He lost his entire drug supply including, his right hand man in all of it. Without the drugs, he would lose the alliance he formed with the Triads. Without the drugs, he lost pretty much his entire income. He pretty much had nothing left but his crew, several guns, and a couple of cars.
A Yardie held up an umbrella for him looking anxious to even say anything, as he looked at the fire and then at Quincy. "What do you want us to do?"
Quincy looked at his hireling and grabbed him by the collar, causing him to drop the umbrella on the ground. "You see that? All of that we had. Gone! Just…gone!" He threw the man down on the ground, and called out for everyone. His clothes were getting wet, but it didn't matter. What mattered was payback. "Do you see what those two Italian brothers did?! They destroyed our drugs, killed a good man of ours, and left the place burning as a big fuck you to not only just me, but to the entire Yardie crew! I want all of you to find the two that did this. I want those two cocksucking motherfuckers dead! Do you hear me?! I want them greased like Sunday goddamn bacon! Kill them! Butcher them! I want them erased off the face of this fucking planet! First one to do so; wins fifty thousand dollars…a hundred thousand if you get both of them. Now let's go…I want them killed before the night is over!"
Every Yardie cheered, as they got into various cars, motorcycles, drove around, hunting down two brothers, who were stuck out in Little Kingston. Quincy smiled as he sat in his limo, loading up a AA-12 shotgun with frag rounds.
"You two are gonna die…gonna die…so gonna fucking die. I'll get them for you Trevor…mark my words. They'll be dead." He muttered as the limo and several Sanchez motorbikes drove around in the rain stricken night.