Episode 4: "New Partnership...New Game"

Each Jenkins brother carried three colossal-size bags from the Mercedes into their motel rooms. Clothes, footwear, toiletries...all from their long shopping day at the Underground. There were big smiles on each of their faces - brand new wardrobe and a fresh cut tends to make you do that. Carlos told Andre and Kareem to get settled, put out their finest gear for their first day of work in the morning, and meet him in his room in an hour. Once he settled in his room, Carlos plugged in his new pre-paid phone to program it, and to charge the batteries. After 30 minutes, he was dialing numbers. The number he dialed went straight to voicemail.

"We're here at the motel. I assume this is just temporary, giving the fact that the cost of a 3-week stay in a motel will cut into our profits. I'll have my brothers get started on setting up the documents and the programs needed to be downloaded." Carlos checked out the window to see if by chance, Andre and Kareem were on their why yet. "First shipment should be coming in 36 hours, giving them time to do what they do to send the goods off for payment within a few days. So things are looking up so much so that we need to finally have that face-to-face about money and percentages."


Carlos ended the call, and checked the notes he had taken during the long trip down. The pages were full of numbers...calculations to be exact. Algebra equations - exponents of numbers and variables...fractions...percentages of numbers rounded to the nearest tenth...To the unassuming eye, it looked like Einstein's rough draft to his theory of relativity. Carlos nodded in agreement with the figures he came up with. He checked the time. He had 20 minutes before his brothers came a visiting. His strong curiosity told him to pay them a visit first. He walked to their room, and stood outside the door...and heard talking coming from within. Carlos stood to the side, and listened.


"...And just imagine the interest rate he collected on his share of $750,000. And, 13 years of it at that?" Andre's bass-toned voice rumbled the room with reverberations of joy. Kareem, with arms folded, just shook his head.


"And how the fuck do you intend to get this money, let alone find it? I mean, we're not exactly Bonnie and Clyde you know," said a sarcastic Kareem. Andre bellowed a laugh.


"You see, Bonnie and Clyde, Baby Face Nelson...Thelma and Louise...they were reckless adventurous. That gung ho type of shit. They weren't very calculating when it came to the choices between life and death," analyzed Andre. "And, they didn't have the luxury of a hot-shot lawyer and a computer whiz kid." Andre let it marinate, and after five seconds he got a smile from Kareem. "We got three weeks down here to get the money. No guns. No masks...just intelligence, and an off-shore bank account. I have another theory on why we're down here. Figure it out. Quiet for 13 years, never ratted out his partners, and his partners never apprehended...?" Andre left it open again for Kareem to catch on.


"So, what? What are you getting at," asked an impatient Kareem.


"Dipshit, Carlos's partners are down here...in the ATL. He brought us to the money." Andre was enjoying the big smile that came across Kareem's face.


Carlos heard it all. His fists automatically clinched. His suspicions were right. What the fuck?! My own brothers scheming on me! Then he used what he learned in prison: restraint. His fists and his shoulders loosened up, and went back to his room...talking to himself.


"Looks like my calculations will need some changing," Carlos said. He wasn't in a good mood as he waited for his brothers. When they finally arrived, he was straight-faced...all business. He told them of their jobs, and what it entailed. How Andre will put his lawyer skills to good use, creating "legal" documents, receipts, and bills of sales of garments. New "brand name" wear, going out to the hip-hop community clothes stores across the southeast. Kareem will be providing his computer talents to generate duplicate designer tags through intricate design programs. They muttered the word knockoffs, but eventually they were on board. Carlos knew they would be, thinking to himself, this was going to be an interesting three weeks.




Later on, at the Forte...


Keith Forbes checked out the crowded club...Rob Base's "It Takes Two" jam was getting the people up and dancing on the dance floor. His good looks and perfect fade with laid back waves was attracting lots of females. They came up to Keith, and asked him to dance. He smiled, showing the whitest teeth, and told them "Maybe next time, babe," and gave them a wink. His "guest" wasn't all that impressed with Keith's smooth ways. In fact, he fell for Keith's smooth ways once before...earning him 13 years in lock up.


Carlos Jenkins was looking sharp...dressed to the nines. His white fedora with the blood-red band, and matching blood-red silk shirt made him look like a true pimp. The Forte was full of pimp-wannabes, but Carlos turned all heads, looking like the pimp daddy...people fully aware of his huge 6'6" muscular frame. He ignored the females, and stared straight at Keith, who seemed intimidated by Carlos's presence.


"Can we get back to the matter at hand...'Keith'," said Carlos, putting emphasis on the name. Keith brought his full attention back to Carlos.


"The matter at hand. Ok, talk to me." Keith couldn't believe how big Carlos had gotten.


"I love the name. 'Forbes', huh? As in Forbes Magazine? And how about Keith-oh I know...from your favorite singer, Keith Sweat, right? Very ingenious, Mr. Randall Williams," Carlos said quietly in Keith's face.


Keith was starting to get furious. "Get to your point."


"Alright, here it is." Carlos saw a little fear in Keith's eyes...knew that this "new" partnership was not going to be like the old one.


"My brothers know about the money. The thing is, they think I'm the one with it. But we know who's holding on to it, don't we?" Carlos paused for effect. "They're scheming to get it, and they seem pretty determined. We need to keep them occupied for the next three weeks so they can work, and bring in the million bucks for us."


"Told you in the first place we didn't need them. How am I suppose to occupy them for three weeks?" Keith shook his head.


"They're good at what they do...that's why we got them here," said Carlos.


Keith continued to shake his head, then stopped. A thought suddenly came to him: Michelle. "Hmm, I think I got a plan." He laughed. "Don't worry Carlos, I'll take care of your bros for you." There was no reaction from Carlos. He moved in closer to speak quietly again to Keith.


"Remember these numbers: 750,000...for the dollars that we stole from those three banks. 13...for the years I served in lock up, and what you didn't serve. 50...for the percentage we will be splitting for the money stolen, and for this new operation...partner. You owe me that much." Carlos was now nose-to-nose with Keith, who sat back and wiped off some of the sweat that was on his forehead.


"Carlos, man...we ain't gotta take it there. This is a new partnership, a new me. I was greedy back then, I learned my lesson. I know I owe you, and that's why I had you sent down here...because you didn't rat me out." Keith ordered a shot of Hennessey for him and for Carlos. "Here's to a new and equal partnership." Keith raised his glass to Carlos, who reluctantly raised his glass. They clinked their shot glasses together and downed the cognac, all the while Carlos noticing beads of sweat forming back onto Keith's forehead.

(“Crimes of Passion in the ATL” will be meeting up with “The Dirty Sexy Chronicles”. Read this series here:)http://dirtysexychronicles.blogspot.com/