TOMMIE (COMPLETED)

TWENTY-FIVE

SAS was on his way to the spot when Traci called.

"What's up?"

"Nigga, it's almost 12:00 a.m., and you're still not here."

"And?"

"And I thought you were coming over? Where are you?"

"Bitch, first, don't worry about where I am. I told you I'ma be there. I'm handling business."

"SAS, don't play."

"I'll be there in like an hour. Keep your phone on."

"Bye, SAS."

A few minutes later, SAS pulled up to what appeared to be an abandoned concrete building. He walked up to the front door and released the latch to a small fuse box. He entered a twenty digit password onto a keypad that was inside. The front door clicked several times and then slowly opened.

SAS ran up five flights of stairs until he reached another door. He rang the buzzer and stood in front of a small camera.

"Password?" an unidentified voice asked.

"59587452103269587412."

"Who sent you?"

"S. DeLeon," SAS said staring into the camera.

"Your name?"

"SAS King."

"How much you need?"

"Ten bricks."

"Access granted."

The giant double doors swung open revealing the all-white room. On the outside, the building looked like nobody had occupied it in years, but the inside looked like Dexter's Laboratory.

Naked females stood on an assembly line cooking, breaking down, and packaging drugs of all kinds. Bricks flooded the room all day and night. SAS stared at the security cameras that filled the space. Very few people got to come inside. There were armed soldiers inconspicuously placed all over.

The outside of the building was entirely covered in cameras, and there were doors that required a special pin number that changed every week. Plus you had to have prior authorization from Scrapp. It was impossible to get inside unnoticed.

Finally making it into the back room, SAS ran into Tru's nephew Joc. He ran the whole operation. He graduated with a Pharmaceutical Science degree from Stanford, but he used his education to create a drug empire for his uncle.

Joc couldn't allow anything to go wrong because that would cost him his life.

"What's up Joc? You got that for me?"

"How's it going, SAS? I haven't seen you in a minute," he said adjusting his black Gucci glasses.

"A nigga's been trapping."

"You said ten, right?"

"Yep."

"Here you go," Joc said handing him a small black duffle bag.