The Corner III (No Way Out) by Alex Richardson, Lu Ann Wells Page A

“Yeah, nigga, we’re running a little late. We’ll be at the party in less than thirty.”
    Talking in code Feet said, “Fuck that party, it ain’t happening. Some bitches we ain’t cool with might be crashing it. I’ll meet you at that bitch’s crib, and we’ll kick it there.”
    Greg frowned, knowing that Feet was talking about the police may have hit or were about to hit the house. Regardless, Feet alerted them to back off.
    “Fuck,” Greg barked. “Let’s head to your girl’s spot.
    Shaun asked, “We’re not heading to Hyde Park, what’s up?”
    “Feet says the police are in the mix. We gotta lay back and get off the streets with the bricks.”
    “Damn, you think they were on the house out here? Shit, they might be following us,” Shaun said as he glanced in his rearview.
    “If they were going to hit us, they would’ve knocked us by now, I’m thinking. Just in case, let’s go to plan number two,” Greg said as he rubbed his chin, something he did when he was thinking.
    They continued to drive, and within five minutes they saw what they assumed to be an undercover vehicle. The Ford Mustang was a safe distance away, but when Shaun turned a few unnecessary corners and then drove through an alley, he and Greg knew that it was the police following them.
    “Okay, my nigga, that’s five-o on our ass. You know what to do,” Greg told Shaun.
    They were only minutes from a parking garage and Greg knew if they made it there, their chances of getting away were good. The entire time they were being followed, Shaun was driving in the direction of the parking garage.
    Greg dialed his cell. After two rings, a woman answered the phone. Greg told her, “We’re on our way. About three minutes, get the car running and be ready.”
    “Okay,” Teresa said as she started the engine to the Nissan.
    Shaun drove as he repeatedly looked in the rearview mirror. He was nervous and had the right to be. In the trunk of the black Maxima he was driving were ten kilos and one hundred and eighty thousand dollars they received from Elisa for ten kilos. They also knew they should have dropped off the kilos to the stash spot first, like always. If they got knocked, he knew Noonie would be pissed and would relay the loss to Slim who would in turn penalize them for not following protocol.
    About ten car lengths back, Greg saw an unmarked police sedan join the Mustang.
    Greg barked, “There we go!” He handed Shaun a card when he turned into the garage. It was after hours so there was no attendant.
    Shaun slid the key into the slot and the arm rose. He immediately pulled in and they were on their way to the second level, section H, as the detectives came to a halt at the entrance. They had no pass key so one of the detectives fished money out of his wallet, sifting to see if he had enough change.
    Shaun and Greg quickly jumped out of the car and into the one Teresa had waiting for them. It was an identical Maxima—color, year, make and model. Teresa jumped into the one they were driving, backed into the space and laid down as the men sped off. The switch took less than ten seconds and they were off on their way to the exit. Shaun stopped and used the keys as the detective barked for them to stop. They kept going, heading west. The detective backed their car from the entrance and followed the men. They were on the cell with Detective Styles who had a blue light on his dash flashing as he sped to the location of the detectives following Greg and Shaun.
    “Go ahead and stop them,” Styles commanded the detectives.
    The sedan hit its siren and lights in the grill and on the dash illuminated.
    Shaun looked over at Greg who smiled and said, “Pull the car over in that grocery store lot with all those law abiding citizens. Can’t have five-o trying no funny shit.”
    As the sedan and mustang came to a halt, Greg pressed the speed dial as he held the phone low and out of view. Teresa answered and Greg said, “Okay, baby, we’re