Calvin "Cal"
The foot steps of two men seem to bounce off the brick walls of the empty warehouse. The only light was the combination of a construction light, and the natural lighting beaming in softly from the full moon. The large glass windows weren't covered from the inside, but the surrounding area didn't consist of a neighbor for five miles. An ideal location for dirty businessmen to take care of, business.
Their business attires consist of steel toe boots, that matched with their all black sweat suit. Naturally Twan took the lead as he made his way across the space to a large steel door, which was protected by a six digit access code. Taking a second to cover his bases he peered over his shoulder to check the distance between he and Cal.
"Aye, gimme five feet bruh." Twan snarled.
As asked Cal took a few steps back, exhaling a sound of irritation from the pit of his chest.
Twan took the first steps into the pitch black room, illuminating it with the flick of the switch, closely behind was Calvin. Closing the steel door behind him it beeped confirming that it was once again, secure and locked. Taking a walk down a dimly lit hallway, Twan couldn't help but to notice blood smeared across a portion of the brick wall in the hallway. Stopping in his tracks he dug his large hand into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight. Cal grew inquisitive about what it was that grabbed the attention of his right hand man. Stepping closer to the wall his eyes slanted out of confusion, laying his eyes on two long red strands of hair glued to the wall with blood. Twan broke his stare and began to trail the remainder of the wall with his light, looking for more. Once at the end of the hall they were greeted by a flight of steps, the old wooden steps creeked loudly as the large men made it down to the basement of the warehouse. Glancing down at the steps it was obvious that termites were a problem, Cal made a mental note to take care of the pest problem.
Fuzz stood from the metal chair that sat guard outside of another door once he heard the footsteps on the staircase. He carefully placed his hand on his holster awaiting the reveal of the persons behind the sounds he had been hearing from above. A smile spread across his face as he loosened the grip on his glock and extended his arm out to dap Twan. "What's poppin Boss?" Fuzz said through his slanted teeth. A disgruntled look covered Twan's face as he accepted the dap from his longtime friend, Fuzz. Twan had met Fuzz in a juvenile prison once he was convicted of strong arm robbery, and intent to sell. The young fourteen year boys clicked almost immediantly, Fuzz being a regular to the facility took Twan under his wing. Throughout the four years that Twan spent incarcerated he had concocted a number of plans with the help of Fuzz. With their release dates months apart from eachother it was Twan's responsibility to get the ball rolling on the operation once released. Only three months before his release date Fuzz caught a charge, after attempting to get his girlfriend to smuggle contraband inside of the prison. Being eighteen at the time, he was tried as an adult and transported Northern Nevada Prison until he turned twenty three years old.
Calvin and Fuzz exchanged head nods, the two men only exchanged words with one another when it pertained to the business. The men weren't well acquainted with one another at all, accepting that the only thing they had in common was their respect for Twan and their greed.
Fuzz entered an access code in yet another locked door, and swung the steel door open effortlessly. The three men were greeted with the overpowering smell of urine and feces as they entered the dimly lit room. There were six cots and a small t.v that made the room, the lack of air circulation, and natural lighting made for a prison environment. Six naked lifeless bodies of women were tied to the beds with zip ties by their hands and feet. Incoherent to what was going on around them due to the sedation that they are constantly under to make shipping easier.
"Why does this room smell?" Cal quizzed Fuzz as he grabbed a clipboard from the wall aggressively. The clipboard held the information of each woman: location of abduction, date they were branded, and amount of sedative given since their arrival. Being the one that single-handedly scouted this group of girls, Cal was disappointed by the care they were being provided before being sold. He admired each of the women individually, after following his fool proof plan to earn their trust he would get them alone, and arrange for them to be abducted and taken to the warehouse. With each woman he received a scouting fee of five thousand, once sold he also received a small percentage of the profit. Twan had negotiated the entire deal from the men who packed the crates on the planes, to the men waiting on the other side of the world waiting to receive their package.
Cal's eyes scanned the sheet of paper on the board, and shook his head. "Nah this isn't right, why is it that number five has been here for two weeks and she has lost seven pounds? Are you feeding them?" He spoke calmly, making sure not to overstep his boundaries and raise his voice, inciting an argument.
The men referred to the women by numbers in order to keep better track, and dehumanize them. Twan quickly learned within the three years that he had been doing this that disconnection himself from the women was the easiest way to keep the business afloat. The last thing he needed was for a nigga to fall soft to the easily accessible pussy, get beside himself and loose focus. He hated that he was beginning to see that in Fuzz.
The business they were in was high risk, and with clients in Poland, Nicaragua, and Columbia he was looking at a combination of fifty years behind bars. Such a delicate and complicated business didn't have room for a nigga who didn't know how to follow instructions, or loose ends.
Fuzz scoffed cutting his eyes at Cal. "Look man, taking care of all these bitches isn't easy! What am I supposed to do when they don't comply to me demand? If the bitch is refusing to eat, then eat is what she wont be doing." He replied with anger in his voice. Feeling as if Cal had put him on the spot in front of Twan on purpose. There was something off about him that Fuzz just couldn't put his finger on. Ever since he had known Twan he had never been the open arms type of nigga. Since before he even met Cal, he wasn't a fan of his, always being a bit envious of the position he had on the food chain. Feeling as if he should be in the position that Cal was in, especially since he was the one who concocted the master plan in the first place. The only thing that held Fuzz back from being the ring leader of the sex and human trafficking ring, was his release date. Complying by the rules of the hood ensteeled in him, and the loyalty he had to Twan and most importantly the operation, he kept quite.
"Knowbody said it was easy, but its your fucking JOB dickhead, is it not?!" Cal raised his voice stepping towards the man that was equal his height. Soft groans began to come from the rainbow of women in the room, some louder than others.
"Alright, alright you're waking up the women." Twan said sternly kneeling down beside a red headed woman's cot. He examined the natural pout in her lips, running his finger along them slowly. Her natural,fire red hair laid wildly across her face, covering her eyes and nose. Brushing the hair away from her face lightly, the woman gasped and winced in pain. Twan snarled as his eyes met with the swollen, and bruised hazel eyes, her nose displayed evidence of a blow to the face from someone much larger. "Number three, what happened to you?" he whispered as he moved the hair on her head around trying to match the blood on the wall, and hair to the victim. "Cal come give me a hand with her." Rushing over Cal kneeled down at the other side of the bed waiting for instructions. "Lift her head for me while I look for something."
Pulling out his flashlight he waited as Cal slowly and delicately lifted her head up, revealing a blood stain the size of her head. Shooting a look at Fuzz Cal proceeded to get up but realized he couldn't move as fast as he wanted without making her damages worst. "Settle down, terminator." Twan said calmly as he examined the three inch gash on the back of her head. Hair and dirt stuck to the wound proof of negligence.
Fuzz stood at the foot of the bed, even in the dim light you can see the beads of sweat forming on the bald mans head. His nerves were getting the best of him, as he watched the two men get ready to discover just how much he has been taking advantage of his power. "Look Twan I know I fucked up, but then again I don't think this shit is for me. I mean some of these bitches be trippen! Whats wrong with me making an example out of one of them?"
Twan stood up and stepped towards his childhood friend, the two men glared into one another eyes as if they were in a staring contest. "Whats the number one rule of this operation, Fuzz?" He asked smoothly, as he grabbed a pair of gloves from his back pockets. Fuzz watched as he slid the gloves onto his hands and grew rather nervous of what was to come. Puffing his chest out causing his large beer belly to do the same, Fuzz held his head up.
"Don't abuse the product." He replied with confidence in his voice, as if he hadn't broken the rule at all.
"The number one rule. I remember when we debated over what the number one rule would be while we were locked down together. The first rule is always the most important. I consider it the first layer of the foundation. Once you break that, shit starts to crumble." Twan pulled out his chrome Herstal High-Seven, and pointed it at Fuzz's bald head.
"Come on, you really gonna merk me over over some shit like this?! Are you serious? We supposed to be boys!" He pleaded from the other side of the gun. Twan let out two bullets into his friend's head, his large body seemed to move in slow motion as he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
"Damn, big niggas fall hard." He joked seemingly unmoved by the fact that he just murdered the man that helped him create what he called himself king of. Cal didn't so much as flinch as he stood over the lifeless body of Fuzz. His brown eyes rolled to the back of his head bulged out from the impact to his head on the concrete floor, his eye socket was completely exposed. Squatting down beside the body Twan grabbed the left eyeball of his deceased friend and ripped the remainder of it from its socket.
Cal looked at him oddly and wondered what his motives were.
Looking up at Twan and placing the eyeball into a paper cup half full of water that sat at the end of one of the only nightstands in the room. He didn't explain himself as he put the cup down and grabbed both legs of the overweight body. Cal grabbed his arms already knowing where the destination was, the two men hauled the large body down the hall. Making it into a back room where a large incinerator sat idle, flicking it on the flames ignited immediately, causing excitement to both men. Picking up his limbs the men craddled the body between them.
"The honor is yours." Twan said suggesting that they put the body head first into the dancing flames. "Say no more." With that being said Cal pushed his half into the flames, a terrible smell exuded from the incinerator almost immediately. Twan finished the disposal of the body and looked over at Cal who stood mesmerized by the flames as they turned all the evidence into ashes.
"I have the perfect girl to replace number three. I dont think she is going to make it from that ass beating ya boy gave her. We are gonna need a replacement." Cal suggested still staring into the flames.
"Tell me more." Twan intrigued.
"She's an ex girlfriend of mine that owes me a favor." Cal broke his gaze at the flames and looked over at Twan for his reaction.
"This big of a favor?"
"Taking her life wouldn't be suitable, this is the next best thing." Cal said thinking back on his past with Saboara.
"Let me know when you're done scouting." Twan replied turning off the incinerator and making his way out of the room. "The clients bidding is in a month, so you have three weeks to have her in that room Cal."
"Three weeks is more than enough." He mumbled to himself holding back a devious grin. There would be no more running from him, it was time for Saboara to pay her dues.
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