The Pleasure of Pain by Shameek Speight Page A

going to kill everyone and anyone that had something to do with my brother’s murder. No one fucks with my family,” Jose yelled into the phone.
    “You know I feel the same way. So what time you want me ready with the men?”
    “ Ten o’clock pm, meet me on 183 Avenue.” Jose ordered.
    “No problem,” Carlos said and hung up.
                  Jose pulled up to the warehouse in his blue Ford Expedition. It was easy for Cash to spot his fat frame all those years living good had fattened Jose’s body up to two hundred and fifty pounds at age thirty seven.  As soon as he got out of his truck, his cell phone rang. “Who,” Jose said out of breath.
    “You know who this is!” the voice said.
    “Yes,” Jose replied.
    “Good, I see you’re alone. Walk to the warehouse now.” Jose did what he was told. “Go inside,” Cash ordered. “I want you to open the suitcase.” Jose opened the suitcase slowly so where ever Cash was at looking at him he wouldn’t think he had a gun. Once the suitcase cover was up you could clearly see the eight million. “Okay leave!” The voice yelled over the phone and I’ll call you back with the information you want when I’m safe with the money.
    “Okay, okay,” Jose answered knowing damn well he would not let this person get away safely with his money or the information about his brother. Jose went outside and jumped back in his car when his phone rang. “Yeah,” he answered.
    “It was Tess and Bless who murdered your brother.” The voice said.
    “What?” Jose yelled. “What?” and he hung up the phone and pulled off.
    Outside of the warehouse, Carlos and his men surrounded the building. Earlier that day he and Jose had hidden a tracking device in one of the bundles of money. He looked at the monitor and watched the screen with the red beeping dot. It showed that the money was still in the warehouse and then it just disappeared. Carlos didn’t buy that signal and no one had made it past them to get out of the building.
    “Move, move, move,” he yelled into the small microphone in his ear giving his men the order to rush into the building. Six gunmen ran into the building with Carlos right behind them with the monitor in his left hand a Glock 10 millimeter in his right. “Shit, shit, where the fuck could he had went,” Carlos yelled. Carlos went over to the last spot where he had seen the money on the monitor and looked around. He found nothing. Then he looked down on the floor and saw a manhole, his brain started to work overtime, and he realized the only place the tracing device wouldn’t work was underground in a tunnel. “He’s in the sewer. Go down there and get him,” Carlos ordered.
    “Yes Boss,” one of t he gunmen opened up the manhole and five of them jumped in. Carlos thought to himself, ‘I’m not jumping down there all those rats, human waste, and sewage. Get the fuck of here.’ “Damn, it’s dark down here,” one of the gunmen said, “and it stinks,” said another one. “I can’t see my own hand in front of my face.”
    “Ssshhh, shut up before you get us killed. Shit this smell is going to kill my ass first.” 
    “ Hey, what’s that green dot on your chest?” BRRRRRR BRRR, shots rang out in the tunnel. Cash thought they would try to follow him so he waited in the dark with an AK 47. The five gunmen never saw it coming. Bullets from the AK 47 ripped through the first gunman’s chest dropping him where he stood. The green dot from the AK 47 moved to the next gunman’s head and sent bullets ripping through the flesh and bones of his face killing him. The last three tried to shoot all crazy in the dark tunnel in hopes of hitting something, but couldn’t see where to aim. The AK 47’s rapid fire hit all three men ripping their bodies apart.
    Cash smiled to himself and started to run with the suitcase full of money in one hand and the AK in the other hand. Then he stopped and left a little surprise for anyone else who