Roy Glenn - In A Cold Sweat

“Chill out a minute,” Monika said, and opened her laptop. She handed Jackie an ear piece. “Put that in your ear and tell me if you can hear me.” Jackie put the small device in her ear. “Can you hear me?”

“In my ear,” Jackie replied.

Once Monika was set up, she handed the sunglasses to Jackie. “Put these on.”

Jackie put the glasses on and Monika turned the laptop so she could see it. “Those are photosensitive sunglasses with a micro-miniature camera.”

“Cool. It’s just like I’m looking through sunglasses.”

“What you see is recorded using a standard video recorder that is fed into a video transmitter in the lap. You go in wearin’ those glasses and that ear piece. When I say pan right, you turn your head slowly to the right,” Monika instructed and demonstrated how she wanted Jackie to do it. “When I say pan left, you turn your head slowly to the left. This way I can see the whole place and know where the best places to set your cameras and microphones.”

That night, Monika guided Jackie as she walked through the gambling house. The next night she told her where and how to set the devices. The only one that was difficult was the one in Mylo’s office. Jackie came up with a reason to have to talk to Mylo alone in his office. Halfway through the conversation, Jackie said she wanted a drink. When Mylo went to get it, Jackie quickly did her work and was sitting pretty when he came back.

After a week of watching and listening to nothing even remotely important, both in the house and on his cell phone, Monika caught a break.

“Mylo.”

“Who’s this?” Mylo asked.

“You know who this is.”

“What’s up? Where you at?”

“Where I am ain’t important. We need to talk, man. Shit has got real fucked up. That nigga Black’s been lookin’ all over the city for me.”

“Calm down, nigga, I got you. We can talk, just not over the phone. Where you at?” Mylo asked again.

“Don’t worry about where I am. You just meet me at the Shrine Bar.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

Monika had a feeling that if they were talking about Black, it might be something. She immediately called Jackie. “Fold and get out here,” Monika said in Jackie’s ear. She cursed and folded the king high straight she was working on and joined Monika in the car.

“What’s up?” Jackie asked.

“We need to follow your boy,” Monika said and explained what she heard. “He should be coming out that door right about now.” Just as she spoke the words, Mylo came out of the house and walked quickly to his car. Monika closed the laptop and started the car. “Finally, a little action.”

Mylo got in his car and headed downtown, with Monika trailing him. Since she knew where he was going and had a tracking device on his car, Monika was able to hang back so Mylo wouldn’t notice them. On the way, Monika told Jackie where they were going.

Shrine Bar Restaurant was located in Harlem, on 7th Avenue between 133 rdand 134 thStreets. It was a showcase for live music and boasted of having the best sound system in town. Mylo went inside and Monika waited a while and went in after him. By the time she got inside, Mylo was at the bar talking to a man she had never seen before. Since Monika was wearing her photosensitive glasses, Jackie was able to see what she was seeing. “I’ve never seen him before,” Jackie confirmed.

The music was so loud that Monika knew even if she could get close enough to them, she wouldn’t be able to hear what they were saying. And wouldn’t be able to filter out all the background noise if she could plant a listening device. She was able to get pictures of the two of them talking and went back to the car.

The conversation lasted about fifteen minutes, after which Mylo left the Shrine and walked back to his car. Before long, they picked up Mylo on his cell phone. A male voice answered the call on the second ring. “How long?”

“One hour,” Mylo replied and ended the call.

The ladies followed Mylo back uptown to the Baychester Diner on Boston Road. Once again they waited as Mylo went inside. “Take pictures of everybody who goes in,” Monika told Jackie.

“Where are you goin’?” Jackie asked.

“Inside,” Monika said and got out.

Monika spotted Mylo sitting at a table in the back near the restrooms. She quickly grabbed her mouth and rushed up to the waitress. “Where’s your restroom?”

When the waitress pointed toward the back, Monika walked quickly, still holding her mouth. More so to hide her face at this point. Mylo didn’t look up when Monika passed his table. She brushed up against it and was able to place a listening device under the table.

Monika got back in the car with Jackie. “Are we live?” she asked.

“He just ordered coffee,” Jackie told her and the two made themselves comfortable taking pictures and waited to see who Mylo was meeting.

Exactly one hour after Mylo made his call, a black Cadillac CTS pulled into the parking lot.

Mylo sat in his booth at the Baychester Diner sipping his coffee. He looked at his watch and knew that he wouldn’t have to wait too much longer. He had just left the Shrine Bar where he had met Bruce Stark, the so-called chairman of The Commission. Stark called him, frantically demanding that Mylo meet him to talk about Mike Black.

“’Bout time you got here,” Stark said when Mylo approached him at the bar.

“I’m here now, so what’s the problem?” Mylo asked and marveled at how well his plan was going.

“I told you, fuckin’ Black is the problem. That nigga is out to get me.”

“What you expect, you sent somebody to kill him. What you think he was gonna do; throw you a party? Run out of town?”

“You the one that said he wasn’t untouchable, Mylo. After he killed Cash, you were the one who said he can be got just like any other nigga.”

“Yeah, I did. And I meant it. I told you the best time to get him. I told you where the mutha fucka would be. It ain’t my fault that you fucked ’round and sent a nigga that couldn’t get the job done. Now you come cryin’ to me and say I fucked this up, now do something to help me.”

“So what now?” Stark asked.

“What you mean, what now? You blew your shot to kill him. Now you got two choices,” Mylo told him.

“What's that?”

“Make peace or get out of the city,” Mylo advised, believing that Stark would chose to get out with his life.

“What?”

“You heard me, nigga. Music ain't that loud you can’t hear me. Either you need to leave the city or try to make peace with him, cause that nigga ain’t gonna stop. He will kill you.”

“CeCe said he wanna sit down to work out our problems,” Stark informed Mylo.

“CeCe? What the fuck she got to do with this?” Mylo demanded to know. Black meeting with Stark would ruin everything he had set in motion.

“She said he just walked up on her and told her that shit. Black and Bobby been in the street lookin’ for me. Not Freeze, Black himfuckin’-self.”

“That’s the last fuckin’ thing you should do.”

“But, you just said I could make peace with him. Now you sayin’ I shouldn’t?”

“Can’t you see that shit? Do I have to tell you every-fuckin’-thing?” Mylo asked and Stark didn’t say anything. “Look, if you was to call for a meet, you could walk in there and say that it was all Cash and K and that you had nothing to do with it. But if he lookin’ for you, then he know you was the one that sent that mutha fucka to kill him.”

“Right, right,” Stark agreed.

“But if you meet him now, one, it will make you look like a weak nigga who wanna scream peace after they started shit. He won’t respect you and sure as shit Black will kill you at that meeting.”