Chapter 56 - going back to the hood (Part 13) - a detour

I arrived at the iconic LA Observatory, a popular spot for Hollywood movie shoots. I hid behind a tree, trying to eavesdrop on Damien's conversation. He stood alone, seemingly waiting for someone. I felt like a spy, but I was outgunned and outnumbered. I decided to wait and observe the situation.

As I watched, multiple vehicles pulled up, and men in suits stepped out. They didn't look like ordinary gangsters - they looked like government agents. I recognized one of them - Boulder, aka Kingston, our former member of the 102. He was wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses and a fancy suit, but his cocky demeanor was still the same. At least 20 bodyguards flanked him.

I crept closer to listen in on their conversation. Boulder was talking trash as usual, but his tone suddenly turned serious.

"Hey homie!! What up? You called me out of nowhere in the middle of the day, eh? I got a feelin' somethin' big is goin' down.”

Damien tossed something at him, and Boulder's expression changed from cocky to serious.

"What is this?" Boulder asked, his tone stern.

Damien's response was cold-blooded. "Cat got your tongue? Asshole…"

The tension was palpable, and I knew something big was going down. I needed to stay hidden and keep listening. Boulder sneered, "Hey Damien, homie, you've got a good life, and Darrel's been keeping tabs on us. He paid you well, including that hound dog of his." His words were laced with mockery.

Damien's eyes flashed with anger, his voice low and deadly. "He's Alex, asshole. Our brother, not a traitor like you..." His gaze pierced through Boulder, his tone dripping with venom.

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to intervene. The old me would have taken out Boulder without hesitation, but now I needed to know what was going on between him and Damien.

Boulder continued, his tone dripping with condescension. "Come on, homie...just let it go..." He seemed to think Damien would simply forgive and forget, but I knew better.

Damien's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in anger. "Let it go? You think I can just forget what you did, Boulder?" His voice was low and menacing, and I knew the situation was about to escalate. When Damien slipped his hand into his pocket, I knew it was a red flag - time to be on high alert.

I was faced with a tough choice: let Damien take out Boulder, which would make him a straight-up felon for offing the mayor of LA, or step in and prevent the hit, creating an escape route for Boulder. My mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons. Should I prioritize justice or show mercy? I had to make a quick decision, knowing either way would have major repercussions.

Boulder sneered, "You wanna know the 411 on Darrel?" Damien's hand came outta his pocket, his eyes locked on Boulder like a hawk.

"That's cool, homie..." Boulder taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I had a feelin' he was stallin', tryin' to throw Damien off his game.

Damien snarled, "You got any last words, asshole..." He was gettin' fed up, ready to pounce.

Boulder smirked, "You might wanna hit up the feds, homie..." Damn! He's playin' the federal card! Fuck! I gripped my piece tight, my instincts tellin' me things were about to go sideways, quick.

"Old news, homie...traitor...asshole..." Damien's eyes were fixed on Boulder like a scope on a target. I could tell he was holding back, restraining himself. My gut told me he wasn't solo; he had backup somewhere.

Boulder kept yapping, "Darrel's got no clue about the power he's messin' with...that cash he's rakin' in...someone's got a problem with it…"

Damien's gaze was like a predator sizing up prey. Whatever Boulder was sayin', Damien only saw him as a meal ticket. He was ready to pounce, and I knew things were about to get ugly.

Damien growled in Navajo, "Nahatłah bitsii dah atáádoolá' dóó nahatłah níłjini yíyi' ádóó naalnish dóó adoolt'éígíí t'áá hólǫ́." ("Wealth and power are only temporary, homie.") Shit! Damien then whipped out a grenade, pulled the pin, and chucked it at Boulder's feet. My body went into autopilot, lunging towards the grenade and kicking it away just in the nick of time.

Damien's eyes bugged out in surprise, while Boulder's face turned whiter than a ghost, like he'd just seen a specter. "HOUNDDOG!!! FUCK!!!!!!" Boulder hollered, calling out for his bodyguard like a madman.

I instantly drew my piece on Damien and Boulder. Damien trained his gun on Boulder, while Boulder ordered his goon to point theirs at Damien and me.

Boulder was laughing like a lunatic, saying, "Looks like we're gonna have a good ol' fashioned Mexican standoff, homies!”

"Yo Boulder, still yappin' away like a Chihuahua, right homie?" I said with a sly wink at Damien, who just smirked and threw a side-eye at Boulder. "Yeah, thinks he's a big shot, but he's just a lil' pup, asshole..." Damien eyed Boulder down like a hawk, his hand resting on his holstered gun, while Boulder's goon closed in on us like a vulture.

"Yo, Boulder, still runnin' your trap, homie?" I said, givin' Damien a nod. He peeped Boulder with a screw face, like, "Nah, he think he's all that, but he's just a lil' pup, tryna act big." Damien draw his gun aiming at the Boulder's goon, who was creepin' up on us.

"In an instant, we sprang into action. Damien took down the goon with a swift kick, while I grabbed the gun and pinned him to the ground. We then turned our attention to Boulder, but he was already making a run for it. "Hold up, Boulder, you're not getting away!" I yelled, sprinting after him. We chased him through the alley, guns drawn, until he vanished into the shadows like a ghost. "Damn, that guy's like a specter! Fuck!!”

But when I turned around, Damien was nowhere to be seen. Dammit! What the hell was going on? It seemed like everyone had disappeared into thin air. Suddenly, I heard a gunshot and rushed towards the sound. But I was too late. Boulder was dead. Dammit, I'd lost another lead! However, I found something interesting - he was holding a floppy disk, and in his pocket, a note with a cryptic message: "Your time is up." Did Boulder know his own fate?

The handwriting didn't seem like Damien's style, which was more artistic and elaborate. So, who wrote this? More questions swirled in my head than answers. I was convinced that something sinister was afoot. I needed to make a phone call before I left, but just then, Damien appeared out of nowhere.

"Did you do it?" I asked him, my eyes narrowing.

"What if I did?" Damien replied, his expression unreadable. Was he innocent, or just

feigning ignorance? My mind raced with doubts.

He pointed his gun at me, his eyes narrowing. "Hey homie... Did you take him down, bruh?" he asked, his tone accusatory.

I felt a surge of anger at his sudden assumption. "Even if I did, homie," I replied, my voice laced with sarcasm, "my bullet wouldn't be wasted on that piece of trash. But tell me, Damien, are you the one who pulled the trigger? You seem pretty quick to point fingers... and guns.”

Damien's expression faltered, and he slowly lowered his weapon, his gaze dropping away from mine.

"I've done my job - Boulder's dead. Now we need to figure out the last piece of the puzzle." I pointed my gun at Damien, telling him to back off.

"Stop this, homie. It's not going to end well," Damien warned, but he didn't seem to be listening to me.

"I'm not alone," he hinted, looking past me. I felt a surge of unease - was I walking into a trap?

I lowered my gun, realizing that things were getting too heated. Damien walked away, surrounded by people who looked like professional soldiers. I knew I was in over my head.

“Since when you had the money to hire killers?” I tried to reason him now, now that a dead LA Mayor is behind us.

“Homie…we all surrounded by a dark shadow…don’t trust anyone…even with someone that you cared about….do you think that visit to Malaysia was to meet you…don’t be stupid homie…” Damien is telling me that I’m missed the point? What the hell is that come from.

“What’s your point homie?” Damien then look at skies and suddenly he is adding another mystery to my own.

“About you homie…” suddenly I went blank.