Roy Glenn - In A Cold Sweat

“That’s fucked up, Mylo, you know that? For some shit that was your fuckin’ idea, for you to stand there now and tell me some shit like that. I oughta shoot you my fuckin’ self.”

“But you won’t,” Mylo said and showed Stark the gun in his hand. “Where’s BB?”

“His boys say he’s ghost. Nigga took all the dope and money and gone.”

Damn, Mylo thought. “Look, let me know where you gonna be and I’ll see if I can’t talk to Freeze, you know, like I said, tell him it was Cash and Kay.”

“Now you talkin’. But you don’t need to know where I’ll be. I’ll get in touch with you. You just get it done,” Stark said and handed Mylo an envelope. “Earn your money. I ain’t exactly sure that I can trust you. Far as you know, I’m at Foxwoods.”

“Whatever, nigga. You ain’t got to trust me.” Mylo held up the envelope that Stark had just given him. “This all the trust I need from your ass,” Mylo told Stark and left the Shrine Bar.

Stark was right not to trust Mylo, because Mylo had a plan. His plan was simple: organize what was left of Birdie’s old crew, kill them off and then take over their markets. It was a plan that he knew would work perfectly, but he knew he couldn’t do it alone. He would need some help.

Just then, Mylo looked up and saw DEA agent Masters come into the diner. Mylo and agent Masters used to work together, cut a few corners together and made a lot of money shaking down the very dealers they were assigned to investigate and bring to justice. This went on until Mylo was reassigned and began working undercover.

When Mylo determined that he couldn’t carry out his plan alone, the person he turned to was Masters. When the two first talked about it, Masters didn’t seem all that interested in Mylo’s plan to take over the drug market, but a week later, Masters called and said he wanted to meet.

Mylo insisted that the meeting take place at a small bar in Stamford, Connecticut, where he could be sure he wouldn’t be recognized meeting with the agent. When Masters arrived at the meeting, he wasn’t alone. DEA agent Pete Vinnelli was with him.

“Who’s this?” Mylo asked as soon as he saw Vinnelli.

“You asked for my help, right? All you need to know is that he is part of the help you want,” Masters said.

“I’m a friend of a friend of yours, Mylo. Or could I call you Clint?” Vinnelli asked.

“What friend?” Mylo needed to know.

“DeFrancisco,” Vinnelli said simply.

At that point, Mylo knew exactly what the deal was, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. Before DeFrancisco went to jail, Mylo had begun working for him. When Mylo was arrested, his first thought was that somebody realized that he was out there without a handler and they were bringing him in. He began to worry when Federal Marshals took him to the airport and flew him to North Carolina and deposited him in some small town jail. After three weeks in that cell, Mylo woke up one morning to find agent DeFrancisco standing in front of him.

DeFrancisco told Mylo that he knew what he’d been doing and showed him a picture to prove it. At first, DeFrancisco gave Mylo a choice, “Turn over all the evidence to me or you’ll be going to jail for a very long time.” For Mylo, the choice was a no brainer. DeFrancisco put him in touch with Birdie’s partner, Albert. But then DeFrancisco went to jail and left Mylo making crazy money with no handler.

Now, Vinnelli’s presence at this meeting meant that he would have to cut him in on the deal. Mylo barely trusted Masters, but at this point, he had no choice. He took a deep breath and laid out his plan for the agents. Masters had plenty of questions to ask Mylo about how this or that would work out, while Vinnelli remained quiet.

Once Mylo was done, Vinnelli finally spoke. “Okay, Clint, we’ll help you, but you gotta do something for us.”

“What's that?” Mylo asked.

“We’ll provide the men to kill the dealers. But only if you convince this Commission that Mike Black is the one responsible for the murders and that they go after Black in response to the murders. That and twenty-five percent.” Vinnelli laughed that night. Naturally, Mylo agreed and The Commission murders began.

“What's up, Mylo?” Masters said as he sat down in the booth.

“Ain’t nothin’,” Mylo said as the waitress came to the table to refresh his coffee.

“What can I get you?” the waitress asked as she poured.

“Just a cup of coffee,” Masters said. “Do you have any pie?”

“Best apple pie in the big apple.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that. Why don’t you bring me a slice of pie, Sweetie.” Once the waitress was gone, Masters turned his attention to Mylo. “You hear anything from Stark or that other clown yet?”

“BB’s in the wind, but he’ll turn up. I just left Stark at the Shrine Bar. He wouldn’t tell me where, but I think he’s hidin’ out somewhere in Harlem. Give me a couple of days and I’ll have them both in place for you.”

Masters leaned back and thought for a second or two. “We’ll worry about them later. We’re moving up the timetable.”

“Why?”

“You ask too many questions, Mylo. What is going to happen now is that you are going to get Mike Black in place.”

“Like I told you, he don’t come into the city much, and when he does, he goes to Cynt’s, picks up that same ho and breaks to that hotel. But I doubt if he goes back there after what happened. You should have sent your own team.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll meet my team soon enough. You just get him in place. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Mylo paused when the waitress returned with pie and coffee for Masters. Masters observed the look on Mylo’s face and asked “What?”

“Stark said that Black and Bobby Ray have been in the city looking for him.”

“Ray always with him?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Mylo said angrily.

“Calm down.”

“Fuck that shit. The deal was for you to kill all four of them, not just two-all fuckin’ four. Now your smug ass wanna sit there and tell me we’re moving up the timetable.”

“Lower your voice,” Masters cautioned and calmly ate his pie.

“Don’t you think I know what’s gonna happen when you get Black?”

“What’s gonna happen, Mylo?”

“You’re gonna leave killin’ Stark and BB to me and you’re still gonna want the cut we agreed on.”

Masters smiled. “That’s pretty much right. But you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What's that?”

“Black and Bobby Ray believe these clowns are the ones tryin’ to kill him. When my team gets Black, what do you think your boy Freeze is gonna do?”

“Blow up the city.”

“Right.” Masters stood up and threw some money on the table. “Call me when you got him in play,” he said and walked toward the door.

Meanwhile out in the car, Monika and Jackie had heard and recorded each word. All Jackie could say was, “Wow.”

“I know, that shit is deep,” Monika agreed as she snapped a picture of agent Masters leaving the diner. “You got to tell Black about this.”

“I know,” Jackie said and then she realized that she had no way of contacting Black. “He doesn’t have a cell and I don’t know Bobby’s.”

Monika snapped off a few shots of Masters getting in his Cadillac. “I could call Nick. He’ll know how to get in touch with him,” Monika said and pulled out her cell phone. She pressed Nick’s speed dial number and the phone rang once before going to voice mail. “Shit! Since that nigga started fuckin’ Wanda, he don’t ever answer his phone.”

“Nick is fuckin’ Wanda?”

“Yup.”

“Oooh, Nick,” Jackie giggled.