Power Ch. 03

"Gentlemen," she said, "we are close, so very fucking close, to making a major step to get justice for the Oppressed in the filthy country. We are close to making the White Man pay for his crimes against Blacks, for the stealing of our money and the raping of our women. We don't need to be fighting amongst ourselves or mistrusting each other.

She continued: "T-Square, think about it.. would Big Ice or myself try to kill a lot of Blacks just to kill you?"

"I don't know." said T-Square. "If you were trying to disguise it as an attack by Whitey, you just might. But I'm not accusing anyone here. I'm just saying that I am very aware of what is going on, and so is my Security."

"Good." said Jasmine. "All of our Security needs to be as tight as the Iron Cracker's ass. We're three months away from the album debut, and four months at most from putting it all into action. It'll start here, in the City, and we will burn it to the ground. Then... we go to the Iron Crowbar's County... and we kill him, his family, every one of his cops, and burn that fucking Town to the ground, too."

"You won't do that without a fight." said T-Square. "I've been tryin' to tell ya... the Iron Crowbar don't play. He destroyed the Whitey attack on Providence Springs in his hometown. And he'll fuck us up just as badly, especially if he's fighting for his life... and his children's. I'd rather take on the fucking U.S. Army than the Iron Crowbar protecting his children's lives. He don't fucking play."

"His kids will be as dead as him. All of them." Jasmine said, peering hard at T-Square. Does she know my sister's daughter is the Iron Crowbar's daughter? T-Square wondered silently. Does she know I'm not going to let my family get hurt in all this?

"All right." said Jasmine. "We'll leave the details to our lieutenants. Our friends in Washington are in contact with the right people within the Department of Justice in Washington, people who will take our side, and make sure the Media reports exactly what we want them to."

"Good enough." said T-Square. He got up. "Unless there's something else, I'm going home. I've got two albums to finish cutting." With that, he left, his Security following.

"Ice." Jasmine said. "You need to watch your back, boy. It's T-Square that will cut you, and not even blink. Especially if he finds out what I've told you."

"Don't worry, Jasmine, I got it." said Big Ice. Jasmine had assigned him and his people the duty of making sure Paulina Patterson and her daughter Tasha were exterminated when the riots began. Those two bitches were tainted by the Iron Crowbar, especially Tasha, who was a filthy halfbreed and the Iron Cop's progeny...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Becca Larrington was seating people for the weekend brunch buffet at the Lakeside Inn & Suites restaurant, when a very short man in a suit came up to the desk. Becca had to look down over the table to see him, so she walked around.

"Where would you like to sit, sir?" She asked. "The window seats are full, but there are still some good ones in the middle."

"Anywhere is fine, young lady." said the man, his voice scratchy and whispery. "And also... somewhere I can speak with you, Ms. Larrington."

"Me?" asked Becca.

"Yes." said the man. "My name is George Powers, and I'm a reporter for KSB in the City. I'm doing a follow-up on your sister Kathy... oh, I'm sorry if I've upset you..."

"No, it's all right." said Becca, who had reacted. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"I am so sorry if I've brought up bad memories." said George. "I was just hoping I could get a short interview with you, as background. After all, your sister was never recaptured after escaping State Women's Prison, and I'm sure it's hard on your family. Maybe bringing light to her situation could help her."

"I don't know, it's pretty upsetting." said Becca.

"Tell you what." said George. "Here's my card. Just phone that number if you change your mind and would be willing to talk with me." With that, George Powers turned and left the restaurant, leaving a confused and chilled Becca looking at a crudely printed card...

To be continued.