Carl Weber's Kingpins: Oklahoma City

Book 5: Kingpins

by Clifford "Spud" Johnson

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

The drug trade in Oklahoma City is thriving despite being run by two kingpins, but when a woman comes between them, the streets run red and the stability that the drug suppliers once took for granted is long gone.

Release date: May 30, 2017

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

It had been six months since his meeting with Charlie. Since that time King and his squad had been extremely busy. Not only had they surpassed all of Charlie’s expectations, they actually shocked the shit out of Charlie.

Toni was all smiles because, on the other side of Oklahoma City, Flamboyant and his team were equally impressive as King and his people. “Looks like we’ve picked two winners, huh, Charlie?”

“Just because they’ve started out well doesn’t necessarily make them winners, Toni. Let’s sit back and continue to monitor our newly crowned kings of the streets. It’s still early in the game.”

“True, but our money is coming faster and stronger than even we expected it to. That should make a certain person very happy, don’t you think?”

“That greedy mothafucka will stay happy as long as we continue to bring in the meal tickets. It is what it is! I got to go. I’ll holla at you later.”

Toni smiled and said, “See ya, Charlie.”

“The block is wildin’ right now, dog. Ever since we got that new batch, shit has been crazy! They lovin’ that shit!”

“That’s cool, real cool. But you got to make sure that niggas don’t be slippin’, ’cause the money is rollin’ way faster than usual. Keep ’em on their toes,” Flamboyant said as he continued to stare out of the window of his Mercedes-Benz S-Class 600.

“Don’t worry about it, Flam. We got this for ya boy,” Prince, Flamboyant’s right-hand man, replied.

“A’ight, make sure that everyone continues to eat, my nigga. I’ll get back at ya later.”

“Gotcha,” Prince said as he watched as his man, Flamboyant, pull away from the curb and left the block that was making them so much money. The south side of Oklahoma City was theirs and it seemed like so was the entire world. It feels real good to be on a winning team, Prince thought as he went back into one of the several trap houses they had running on the block.

On the other side of town, King sat on the porch of his main trap house and watched as the many fiends came to spend their money. Tippi, his most trusted soldier, sat next to him and watched the fiends as well as the other squad members as they got that money. Everyone knew that Tippi was not to be fucked with. Not only was she King’s number one, she was the top killer of the squad.

Tippi was a damn fool and everybody on the north side knew it. When she got hot there was no telling what she’d do to a nigga. For that matter, niggas on the north tried their damnedest to stay on Tippi’s good side. She was a fairly small woman who had deceptive strength. Though she looked and acted like a tomboy, she was very attractive, if one took the time to really pay attention to her looks. Her light brown complexion and her long sandy brown hair that she kept braided in several French braids gave her a kind of distinct look. She chose to keep her hair braided straight to the back and held tightly in a ponytail, or had crazy Allen Iverson–like braids all over her head. Though she was small, she was thick when it came to her thighs and ass. She stood about five three and normally could be considered a dime. But to those around her Tippi was considered a damn fool and was not to be fucked with.

Tippi was extremely nimble for her size. She was even more accurate with whatever weapon she chose to use to do a nigga. She was known to carry several different types of pistols on any given day. It was also another well-known fact that Tippi had killed men with her bare hands as well as with knives. Her murder game was definitely up to par. For that reason alone the word all over the north side of Oklahoma City was, “Do not fuck with King or his squad.” The north, northeast, and the northwest sides of Oklahoma City belonged to them. Every penny that was made illegally on them streets from cocaine, X pills, weed, and PCP, you best believe that King’s squad got a percentage.

King was loving the fact that all seemed to have fallen right into place for himself and his squad. So far there had been no wrinkles in his game plan. He chose to stay hands-on at all times. That’s why he was on the block so much. He wanted those around him to understand that this was a team effort even for the star and the captain of the squad. Tippi hated the fact that he exposed himself so much. She felt that he should play in the background more and let her handle the day-to-day hassles of getting their money. He knew how Tippi felt but still chose to play the block daily. He was more comfortable around his own. No amount of money was going to change him from being where he felt he belonged. The block was his kingdom, so the block was where he’d be. Period.

“Here comes ’em two funny style–ass niggas, Trey and Vaughn,” Tippi said as she lit up a Newport cigarette.

“Where have ’em fools been? I haven’t seen them for a minute!” King said.

“They went to Tulsa to see if they could set up shop down there with some of their cousins or some shit like that. You gave them the green light, remember? Or has Lawanda got you slippin’ now?”

King grinned at Tippi. He knew she hated his kids’ mother. He also knew that she was madly in love with him. That gave him an advantage over her wild ass, ’cause he knew if he ever pissed her off for real he’d have to kill her before she killed him. That’s why he chose to keep their relationship strictly business.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that shit. Thanks, baby,” he said playfully.

“Baby? Nigga, you gon’ make me do you somethin’ for playin’ wit’ me. You know how bad I want that dick.”

He laughed and said, “After we get about fiddy million and retired from the game I’m gon’ take your ass somewhere and fuck you for as long as you can take it.”

“Promises, promises, nigga! I’ll be right back. I don’t like these fake-ass niggas,” she said as she stepped off the porch, just as Trey and Vaughn made it to the first step.

“What up, Tippi?” asked Trey as she passed him. Tippi ignored him as she went across the street and started talking to another member of the squad.

“What it do, King?” Vaughn asked.

“What’s up? You niggas get that shit crackin’ out in Tulsa?”

“Kinda. ’Em Crip niggas down there were hatin’ and shit, but once we told them some of our prices they told us they’ll think about fuckin’ wit’ us. So we left it at that for now.”

“Yeah, wasn’t no use in pressin’ the issue,” added Trey.

“Is that right? So, what’s what?”

“We’re ’bout to hit the northwest side and get with Keko and see if he needs any help over that way.”

Shaking his head no, King said, “Nah, I need y’all to stay out this way. Y’all can go over to the North Highlands and check with Damus over there. See if they’re good. If they ain’t, tighten ’em up.”

“That’s cool. So, have you thought about what we talked ’bout?” asked Trey.

King stared at them for a moment then said, “If that thing works out in Tulsa for y’all I’m gon’ let y’all have it full time. So that way y’all will have y’all own spot to run and maintain. As long as you understand that you are to never, and I mean never, get any work from anyone but the squad.”

“That’s fa’ sho’. You know we ain’t tryin’ to go against the grain, baby,” Vaughn said.

“Yeah, we know what side our bread is buttered on,” added Trey.

For some strange reason Trey’s corny statement made goose bumps pop out all over King’s arm. He smiled and said, “A’ight, then, go on and check on ’em niggas in the Highlands for me. Get back at me after everything is good over there.” King pulled out his cell and started dialing. Their meeting was over.

As the phone was ringing, King watched as Trey and Vaughn got into Trey’s Chevy Avalanche and left the block. King closed his phone and smiled, then jumped off the porch and called Tippi. When Tippi came back across the street he asked her, “You hungry, boo?”

“‘Baby,’ ‘boo,’ damn, I must really be gettin’ close to gettin’ me some of that dick I’ve yearned for all of my life, huh?” she asked with a smile on her face.

He laughed and said, “Maybe. Come on, let’s go get our eat on. We got some shit to talk ’bout.”

Her smile quickly faded as she asked, “Am I needed?”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’m not knowin’ yet. Come on, let’s go talk about it.” Tippi followed King as he led her toward his black Dodge Magnum.

Trey and Vaughn stopped at 7-Eleven right outside of the neighborhood called North Highlands. Trey needed a pack of cigarettes and Vaughn wanted a bottled water. When they walked inside of the store, three Bloods from North Highland were inside, harassing the store’s cashier. When they saw Trey and Vaughn they walked over to them and spoke. Trey stuck out his chest as if he was the big man and asked, “Y’all good over there in y’all hood, or do we need to hook y’all up?”

B-lo, one of the main go-getters in the Highlands, said, “Yeah, we need to holla. When can we get down?”

“Check it, let me make a few calls then I’ll meet you on Eighty-third over at Pimpin’ Steve’s niece’s house,” Trey said as he grabbed a pack of Newports.

“That’s straight,” B-lo replied as he led the other two Bloods out of the store, much to the cashier’s relief.

After paying for their purchases, Trey and Vaughn stepped out of the store and saw two white men standing next to Trey’s SUV. Fear gripped them both instantly. Ain’t no cracka got enough nerve to be around my shit unless he’s the Ones, thought Trey as he stared at the two white men.

“Excuse me, is there a problem, Officer?” Trey asked sarcastically.

“No, as a matter of fact, there isn’t, Trey,” answered one of the white men.

Before they could say a word, the other white man pulled out a badge and showed it to them and said, “FBI. We need to ask the both of you some questions.”

“Are we under arrest?” asked Vaughn.

“Not at the moment, Vaughn, but if you don’t hurry up and get into Trey’s truck you might soon be,” said the FBI agent who had spoken first.

“What?” asked Trey.

“The both of you need to get inside of your truck and follow us. If you don’t follow us and we have to come find you, neither of you will be seeing the streets for a very long time. Now move it!” the agent said with authority.

They did as they were told and climbed back into Trey’s truck. They watched as the white men got into a navy blue Tahoe that they hadn’t paid any attention to previously. The FBI agents pulled out of the parking lot, followed by Trey and Vaughn. B-lo, who had forgotten to ask Trey if he could get fronted some sherm, had decided to come back real quick and ask him, but stopped short when he saw Trey and Vaughn talking to some white dudes. Once he saw one of the white men flash a badge, he quickly turned and got the fuck away from that 7-Eleven. Hope them niggas ain’t dirty, B-lo thought as he headed back into his hood.

The FBI agents led Trey and Vaughn to a Motel 6 right off of I-35. Once there one said, “My name is Agent Bullock and this here is my partner, Agent Van Horne.”

“Man, what the fuck is this shit about? We ain’t done shit!” said a nervous and frustrated Trey.

Agent Bullock smiled and said, “Now, Trey, you know as well as we do that the both of you work for King.”

Vaughn’s eyes grew wide as saucers when he heard the agent mention King’s name. “What . . . what do y’all want from us?” Vaughn asked nervously.

Agent Van Horne smiled and mockingly said, “You ain’t know? We know you two are small fish. We want the shark. We don’t have any time for negotiations so let me tell you how it’s going to be. Either you help us get King, or you remain loyal to him by doing a minimum of twenty in Leavenworth.”

“For what? You ain’t got us with shit!” yelled Trey.

“We’re the FBI, son. Haven’t you ever heard of conspiracy? Or, better yet, we can get the both of you for distribution.”

“Distribution of what?” asked Vaughn.

Both of the agents laughed, then Agent Van Horne said, “Of anything we want to put on ya, son. Cocaine, weed, sherm, X. Hell, we could even hook you up with some crank. So, what’s it going to be, guys? Are you going to help yourselves or are you going to remain loyal to King?”

Trey was sitting on the edge of the bed slowly shaking his head from side to side. “I ain’t doin’ no dub for no nigga. What up with you, Vaughn?”

Vaughn shook his head and said, “This shit ain’t cool, Trey.”

“What other choice we got?”

“Nigga, do you know what King’s goin’ to do to us if he ever finds, no, when he finds out we got down on him? Better yet, what he gon’ have Tippi do to us? I ain’t wit’ it, my nigga. I’d rather take my chances in the pen.”

“Did you hear what this cracka told us, fool? They talkin’ ’bout giving us a dub, nigga! I can’t do no number like that there. Fuck that shit!”

Vaughn sighed heavily as he stared at his closest homeboy. “Are you positive you want to go out like this, dog?”

“Like I said, what other choice do we got, Vee?”

“This is some real fucked-up shit.” Vaughn turned toward the two FBI agents and asked, “What y’all wanna know?”

King and Tippi were enjoying their meal of catfish and French fries when King’s cell rang. He wiped his mouth and answered the phone. “What it do?” He shook his head in dismay as he listened to whoever was speaking to him on the other line. “A’ight, I’ll get at y’all in a li’l bit. Good lookin’ out,” King said as he ended the call.

“Was that the call?” Tippi asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Your services are needed.”

“Good. I never did like ’em niggas,” Tippi said as she started back eating her catfish.

After they finished their meals they left the restaurant and went back to the block. As soon as King’s Magnum came to a stop several members of the squad came over to his car. King and Tippi got out of the car and led the other members of the squad toward the trap. Once King got to the porch he sat down on the top step and said, “I’ve already called Keko. He’s on his way over here now. When he gets here we’re goin’ to take care of some thangs. I already told y’all what was what, but I want y’all to see for yourselves so y’all will know fa’ sho’ what went down and why. I can’t afford to shut down the block so some of y’all are gon’ have to stay here and hold it down. So, who’s it gon’ be?”

There were seven squad members present in all. Three out of the seven chose to stay on the block while Flex, Nutta, Cuddy, and Boleg decided to go with Tippi and King. Ten minutes after that decision was made Keko pulled in front of the trap in his 1970 Impala. His twenty-four-inch chrome rims shined brightly as he climbed out of his old-school Chevy. He stepped quickly to the porch and said, “Let’s do this shit. I’m missin’ mad money on my side of town.”

“What, Spook ain’t takin’ care of shit for you while you gone?” asked Tippi.

“Spook can’t be everywhere the way I can, Tippi,” Keko replied sarcastically.

“Whatever.”

King smiled and said, “Load up and follow your boy.” They all followed as King went and got back into his car with Tippi. The other squad members climbed into Keko’s car.

As Keko followed King he said, “Man, ’em niggas done fucked up!”

“That’s putting it lightly, son. Did you peep the look on Tippi’s face? That broad ’bout to be on some murda shit fa’ real,” said Cuddy.

“Man, I ain’t tryin’ to see none of that crazy-ass shit Tippi be into,” said Nutta, the youngest member of the squad.

“Why the fuck did you wanna come for then?” asked Flex.

Nutta shrugged his slim shoulders and answered, “I dunno.”

“Now that’s some silly shit right there, youngsta,” Keko said as he continued to drive.

King pulled into the parking lot of the Motel 6 and parked his car right next to Trey’s Avalanche. Everyone got out of Keko’s car and came and stood next to King. King pulled out his phone and made a call. When the other line was answered he said, “Yeah, we’re out here now. We’re on our way up, y’all good?”

“Yes, we’re fine, sir,” answered Agent Van Horne, who actually wasn’t really an FBI agent at all. He was a friend of Charlie’s who became a friend of King’s. When King got hit with those goose bumps during his conversation with Trey and Vaughn earlier, he took that as a warning. So he decided to give Trey and Vaughn a little test. He wanted to make sure that they were loyal to him as well as to the squad. If they passed it would be all love. But if they failed then, well, they had to die.

King led the way upstairs to the room where Trey and Vaughn were telling two fake FBI agents everything they knew about King’s illegal operations on the north side of Oklahoma City. When they made it to the room, King knocked on the door lightly and smiled at Tippi. Tippi wasn’t in a smiling mood but she returned his smile anyway; he had that effect on her. Damn, I love this nigga! she thought. The door to the hotel room was opened by Agent Van Horne and King entered the room followed closely by Tippi and the rest of the squad. Trey and Vaughn both looked as if they were about to have a heart attack. Both of the fake FBI agents started laughing as they watched Trey’s and Vaughn’s reactions to King’s entrance.

“Look at them. They’re scared shitless,” said Agent Van Horne, laughing. His name was really Mike Webb. He was a car dealership owner out in the city of Bethany.

“Yeah, that look is priceless, fucking priceless!” Agent Bullock laughed too. His name was actually Ted Johnson, one of Charlie’s many accountants.

“So tell me, guys, did my two friends here have a lot to say about me?” King asked as he stared hard at Trey and Vaughn.

“Let’s just say that we now know everything there is to know about your operation, King,” said Mike.

“That’s right. We even know about your plans to go legitimate in a couple of years,” added Ted.

Boleg, Cuddy, Nutta, Flex, and Keko stared at Trey and Vaughn with looks of disgust and hatred on their faces. Tippi had murder in her eyes but King was as calm as could be. His facial expression showed nothing. Though he was very angry he chose to remain extra calm about this situation. A point was about to be made. A show of sorts was about to be given to his squad members that if they ever chose to cross him, this would also become their fate.

Trey stared nervously at King and said, “King, man, we didn’t—”

“Shut the fuck up, nigga! Say another word and you’re goin’ to die real slow, homie,” Tippi said menacingly.

“You two were a part of some real shit. I was goin’ to let y’all earn all you could make, but I guess that wasn’t good enough, huh? You had to go and try to cross the King. For that y’all gots to pay with your lives.” He turned toward Mike and Ted and said, “Thanks, guys, I really appreciate your help on this, especially with such short notice.”

“No problem, King, you know we hate snitches too.” They both laughed as they left the hotel room.

After the door closed, King turned back toward Trey and Vaughn and said, “If I don’t test those around me whom I deem loyal, how will I ever truly know if their loyalty is true? You two failed my li’l test miserably. I want you both to know I get no pleasure out of hurtin’ someone I considered my own. But y’all aren’t a part of the squad. You never were. Y’all was fakin’ wit’ us.”

“Can you please save all of this drama and let me take these two bitch-ass niggas down?” Tippi said angrily, staring hard at Trey and Vaughn.

King frowned and silently gave himself a reminder that he would have to check Tippi for her fucking slick mouth. With a nod of his head he gave Tippi the go-ahead to do her. Neither Trey nor Vaughn saw it coming, even though they were expecting an assault. Tippi moved with lightning speed. No one inside of the hotel room saw her when she reached down and grabbed both of her stilettos from the holster she had strapped to each of her calves. That’s why everyone was shocked when they saw her damn near decapitate Trey with one swift swing of her right arm. She severed every major artery in his neck. Before a gasp could be made, Tippi, with a backhand motion, stabbed Vaughn directly into his heart. He arched his back hard as his last breath left his body. Tippi pulled her knife out of his heart and smiled as his body fell back onto the bed. Blood was gushing out of Trey’s neck like a fire hydrant. To say things were messy would be putting it mildly; blood was every-fucking-where.

“Daaaaaamnnn, look at that shit!” Nutta said as he stared at the gruesome sight.

“Damn, Tippi, now we gotta have somebody come and clean up this mess. Why didn’t you blast ’em two niggas?” King asked as he stepped away from the bed where blood was slowly spreading all over the carpet.

“I used these because I wanted to make sure your point was made.” She turned so that she faced everyone inside of the room and continued. “You cross the squad or any of its members and this will be your fate. Real talk.” She then calmly stepped into the bathroom and began cleaning her weapons.

King shook his head and said, “Y’all go on and bounce. Me and Tippi will take care of this shit. Get at me later on and let me know what’s what out in ’em streets.”

Keko laughed and said, “You got it, massa. We gon’ make sho’ everything is in order.”

Cuddy, Boleg, and Flex laughed at Keko’s joke but King and Tippi’s point had definitely been made. Do not cross the squad. If you do, death will definitely be yours.

Flamboyant walked inside of his four-bedroom home out on Sky Island, a neighborhood mostly full of white people. With his new connections he was able to acquire his dream home. Now that he was making the type of money he knew he would one day make, he felt it was time for him to live up to his name, so he went all out; brand new expensive Italian furnishings were all over his home. Nothing but the best was inside of every single room. From the kitchen to the backyard, everything was top of the line. He smiled when he saw his lovely wife-to-be sitting at the dining room table, nibbling on some cashews as she read the latest Sister 2 Sister magazine.

“Hey, babe, what’s really good?” he asked as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and joined her at the table.

Shayla smiled at him and said, “Nothing much, bored really. How was your day?”

“You act as if I’ve been at a fuckin’ job or something. All I’ve been doin’ is pickin’ up money, babe.”

Shayla frowned and her extremely cute features showed her displeasure in her man’s answer to her question. “Just because you were out there in the streets doing what you do doesn’t mean that I can’t ask how your day was. You irritate the hell out of me when you act so fucking immature, Marco.”

“Sorry, babe, but you act like you don’t be knowin’ what time it is. You know how I get down and you know I’m no Huxtable-type nigga, so why you trippin’?”

She slid out of her chair, shook her head from side to side, and went into their bedroom without answering his question.

Shit, he thought as he followed her. Once they were inside of the bedroom he said, “Come on, babe, don’t be mad at me. Why don’t you get dressed so we can go out somewhere for dinner. I’ll make some reservations real quick down at that spot you like in Bricktown.”

“I’m not hungry. Why can’t we stay home and cuddle and watch a movie or something? Or is that too Huxtable for your ass?” she asked with much attitude as she went into the bathroom.

“Nah, we can do that. As a matter of fact, we can watch Netflix all night,” he yelled as he sat down on the bed and started to take off his shoes.

Shayla came back into the bedroom and asked, “What do you wanna watch? And please don’t tell me no gangsta, shoot-’em-up stuff, Marco, ’cause I’m not trying to watch any of that shit tonight.”

He reached out and grabbed her around her small waist and pulled her onto his lap. He nuzzled his face in her firm, D-cup breasts and said, “Well, you better choose a movie real quick ’cause you definitely ain’t tryin’ to watch any of the movies I wanna see.”

She laughed and said, “You are too predictable, boy!”

“But you love me, right?” he asked as he stared into her pretty, light brown eyes.

She laughed and said, “Sometimes. Now pick something decent to watch for the evening. While you do that I’ll make you something to eat.”

“You mean to tell me that you’re going to cook for Flam?”

“No. I’m cooking for Marco.”

“You know what I mean,” he said sheepishly as he walked out of the bedroom.

Shayla went into the kitchen and began to make her man a quick meal. While she was preparing a steak with a can of mixed vegetables she was thinking about her life and how things had turned out so different from what she had originally planned. She shook her head and smiled as she thought about her past. “That was then; this is now,” she said aloud as she put the steak into the oven.

Shayla and Flamboyant seemed to be a perfect match. They were both extremely good-looking and that was a definite plus to Flamboyant. He was not only borderline conceited, he was a walking fashion show. No matter where he went or who he was with, he had to shine. When he entered a room with Shayla on his arm he felt as if he owned the world. His six foot frame was solid and he. . .