CHAPTER EIGHT - THE END DRAWS NEAR

Jamaica – 1990’s

Meanwhile, Mathew Thompson was lying in bed on Ward 5 of the Spanish Town Hospital and was scheduled to go back into surgery at 3 p.m. He was in a pleasant mood as through his father’s connections, he had two of the sexiest nurses in the hospital at his side. For some reason the ugly, foul-mouthed policeman was replaced by a petite, dark skinned corporal who had an ass that made him wish he was a decent law abiding citizen. She was pleasant and greeted him by name and introduced herself as Corporal Brown and for that reason he wanted to make it out of surgery. She was the most pleasant cop he had come across and she chatted with him about everything and it made him feel special. She stroked his arm and looked at his drip bottle and wished him the best of luck and she looked forward to seeing him as soon as he was out of surgery.

Damian Thompson received a call at 5:30 p.m. from the Chief Medical Officer that the surgery went well, but while in recovery his son developed some complications and had expired. The phone fell from his hand and shattered; his only son had died and while he had sent others to their death or caused death himself, the news was devastating. The trouble came in threes as he heard that the two other stooges that clowned with his son had been found in a house in Montego Bay and had resisted the police and had been killed, and two assault rifles were recovered. To make matters worse his construction company was raided by revenue agents demanding to see his books. In one day his family was under attack from all angles.

He was feeling disoriented and discombobulated at the same time and just did not want to hear any other sad news. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and hide under his bed. However, wishes never came through for people with his luck and he got a message from a birdie he had been paying at the police station that a Zone of Special Operation would be declared in his area by 6 p.m. In one swoop his empire was being dismantled around him and in his mind this bad luck started when he cheated on his baby mother 3 weeks ago. He needed to stop the crosses and at least take revenge on the man that started the chain reaction.

Meanwhile back at the McNamara house, all was not well as Daniel McNamara sat on his veranda and watched the vehicles pass by his house. Dusk was fast approaching and none too soon as it was the end of a stressful and dramatic day. Marcus Dean had sent him a text to indicate a green light with a skull emoji beside it. A weight had lifted off his shoulder and it was as if the dark gloomy clouds that had hung around him and his family just started to dissipate. He felt happy and sad at the same time, but he rationalised that he had troubled no one and he was justified in his actions.

The shape and form of his friend ACP Cowass appeared at his gate, butterflies rose in his stomach and gas erupted from his anus. He opened the pedestrian gate with the remote to allow his friend to come in. The click followed by the clunk of the gate closing arose the attention of the dogs and their incessant barking and howling at the back of the house annoyed Daniel. The flash of white teeth from the policeman displayed and then he heard him say,

“Sir Mac, I have great news, your problems seemed to have moved on to meet their maker.”

“What are you talking about?” Daniel asked.

“All three of the boys are dead,” the policeman replied.

Shock crept over Daniel’s face.

“Listen to this, God does not sleep; the Organised Crime Unit got an anonymous tip this morning about two suspicious men in a house in Montego Bay, so a squad was dispatched and they met heavy resistance and when the smoke cleared the two dead men were identified and were from Spanish Town. To add to your fortune, it turns out the Don’s son suffered a stroke after leaving surgery and died at 5:30 p.m. I should not tell you this but, the evidence that was collected on the scene along with your gun is also missing. The worst part about it is that the investigating officer who collected the statements never logged them into evidence and he too has been missing. I was advised that he went fishing over the weekend and has not been heard from since.”

Confused but excited at the news, Daniel could not believe his ears,

“So, what does this mean, Cowwie?”

“Well, for one thing, sleep on the same side of the bed that you have been sleeping because evidently someone up above has been smiling down on you. It seems the evidence and the statements along with the investigator have just vanished. Therefore, your case will die a natural death. Technically, it’s as if the incident never took place and there are only two things we have to deal with now. You remembered that conversation we had the other day, Sir Mac? Well, I am going to need a little contribution for my development. Plus I want to see how we can get back your gun in your possession."

Daniel nearly fell from his chair.

“Contribution! For what? I am already paying for security; we never agreed anything. I only enquired.”

At this point his voice was raised and shouting.

“Calm down, Mr. McNamara. Do you really believe that all this just happened just so? The police man responded in a hushed tone.

"What the hell, I paid someone…"

However, before the rest of the words left his lips he remembered that he was evidently speaking to a corrupt cop and never wanted to implicate himself or Marcus Dean. In dramatic turnaround he whispered,

"How much you want, Boss?

"Two fifty thousand can work for now, Sir Mac," the ACP replied with a broad grin across his oval face with snake like eyes.

He knew instantly why crime could not be eradicated; he thought the ACP was his friend and the disappointment showed on his face. He was no different from the extortionists.

“I don’t have that amount in cash at home, will you take a cheque in your wife’s name?

The policeman shut his eyes for a few seconds and then said,

“No, make it out to my little friend instead, Natasha Brown. You know how the thing set, Sir Mac,” he said with a smirk.

Samantha had heard the initial raised tones and came to the door,

"What are you boys arguing about? I hope it’s not the wretched football again.”

"No, Dear. We just had a little misunderstanding, can you pass a beer for the ACP and my cheque book."

"Cheque book!" she exclaimed.

"No worries, Sweetheart. I’m paying for some bingo tickets," Daniel replied.

In their heated discussions Daniel or the cop noticed two men clad fully in black who had jumped the wall at the front of the house and taken aim with their rifles. Daniel never heard the first shot, but felt as if a hammer had hit him in his chest and the wind was knocked out of him. His feet wobbled and buckled below him. The other two rounds fired from Damian’s M16 hit the policeman in his head and his death was instantaneous. Daniel lay gasping for breath and all on his mind was Samantha and the children; he was struggling to call her name as blood filled his lungs, mouth and nostrils. He looked around to see where the shots were being fired from, but all he could only make out were the silhouettes of two men as he passed out.

Samantha was on her way back with the cheque book and the beer and upon hearing the first shot everything fell from her hands. She screamed out Daniel’s name and attempted to run towards the veranda, but her legs failed and were behaving as if they were made out of gelatine. The two children were locked in their room playing video games and heard the sounds, but thought a car had back fired along the roadway, not knowing that the angels of death had just paid a visit.

Meters away, I was unaware of what had transpired at my home and had been preoccupied with balancing the boxes of pizza and walking toward Rivoli. The three chickens hastily scurried out of my path as I skipped over the pool of stagnant water on Burke Street. It had been a long while since I was visiting this part of Spanish Town and I realised why I had avoided it for so long. The streets were lined with potholes, the houses had become derelict and the zinc fences were toppled over, exposing the contents of some yards. The sky was cloudless, but I could not see the moon and it would have been a perfect night to hold Lisa’s hand and even to kiss her on her lips.

I never even noticed the bike with two men clad in black hoodies with the pillion holding what appeared to be a guitar case riding by.

Looking in his rear view mirror, Damian saw the young man walking with the boxes of pizza and said to his companion,

“You know I would love a slice or two of pizza right now.”

“Boss, can we go put away these two fire sticks before you think about food?” Rambo replied.

“No! Why bother? You never see the boy with pizza up the road, how you so blind, Rambo?”

Damian felt a sense of relief; he had taken the revenge he wanted and he got two for the price of one; the damn policeman was becoming a burden on his pocket anyway. He turned the bike in the road and rode towards the pizza delivery man. As he got closer and the pedestrian walked under the street light, Damian swore under his breath as he identified the face of the person.

“Rambo, nuh the rass bwoy that we a look fah and wi just kill him fadda?”

“Yes to fudge,” replied Rambo, “mi a done him right yah so.”

I was totally oblivious to what was happening around me; all I could think of was the response I would get from Lisa when she saw me. My cell phone began to ring in my pocket, fumbling to balance the two boxes of pizza in my left hand and reach for the phone in my front left pocket with my right hand was awkward.

Damian and Rambo got closer and saw that I was distracted and fumbling in my pocket and smiled at each other, thinking this was too easy.

Finally, I was able to take out the phone and raised it to eye level. I realized it was Mummy and I hissed my teeth; she probably wanted to find out where I was. So, in order to avoid her, I rejected the call and breathed a sigh of relief as I felt as if I had dodged a potential bullet. The bike was almost on top of me by the time I realised what was happening. The first bullet hit the phone from my hand; the moment seemed so surreal and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. My brain was asking my eyes if this was really happening to me, but my body and feet reacted.

“Shit!” Damian shouted, “How the fudge did I miss from such a close range?” but he was so anxious and focusing on the target he had pulled the trigger on the Glock instead of squeezing.

The bike was still rolling forward when I threw the Pizza boxes at his face and with the typical reflex he ducked and twisted the handle bars at the same time into the path of an oncoming traffic. The last thing he saw was the headlights of the armoured truck and the sound of Rambo shouting behind him. “Gustave, I did not stop to see the result of the huge bang behind me; adrenaline poured through my blood stream and I ran and ran until I was breathless only coming to a stop almost a mile from where the incident occurred. I recognised the Bank on Burke Street and hailed a cab. Almost short of breath and trying to hear the breaking news of the shooting of an Assistant Commissioner of Police as well as a senior civil servant in Spanish Town in the upscale community of St. Jago Heights; somehow that was the least of my concerns, although based on my misfortune a short while ago and in my mind I did not know any Assistant Commissioners of Police. All I wanted was to reach my bed and not say a word to a living soul.

As I walked up Cherry Drive, I noticed the pretty blue lights in the distance, the night was cool, but my heart had still not slowed down, but the muscles in my calves felt as if they were about to explode. I thought that those lights seemed awfully close to home, but the police often patrolled my neighbourhood with their lights on with the notion that it scared away criminals. For some unknown reason, the avenue seemed extremely long and the normally pesky dogs were strangely quiet along the road, something big must have happened. My house was immediately around the deep corner and my feet ached as I drew closer, but my steps became more strident as I saw the crowd near my gate. What the hell! I thought when it dawned on me that it was actually my gate that was the centre of attention. The dreaded yellow tape was seen through the crowd when I began to sprint towards the tape.

“Jaden! Jaden !”

I heard and then felt the firm hands of Mr. Brown, my neighbour.

“Everybody has been trying to reach you for the past 30 minutes.”

I wanted to tear myself away from Mr Brown’s grip, but I could not, it was just too strong.

“Something terrible has happened at your home, Son; you mother and brother and sister are fine, but,” and I never heard the rest as I collapsed.

I awoke two days later and struggled to identify my environment for a while; I thought it was a hotel, but the blood pressure monitor, the drapes and the smell of pine action made me realise I was in a hospital. There were nurses buzzing around my room and then I recognised my mother wearing dark glasses that covered her swollen eyes.

“Oh, thank God,” she said “I thought I lost you too, the doctors say you suffered a minor stroke two days ago, but I need to send you overseas for more tests. Your flight leaves later tonight.”

I closed my eyes in an attempt to blot out the thought of what I had just heard, I tried hard to remember what happened yesterday or the last couple of days, but just could not recall. I must have faded off to sleep.

The news of the deaths of Damian and Mathew Thompson travelled fast through the grape vines of the underworld and Antonio Sharpe received the news with glee. All his loose ends had been tied up in one day. It was money well spent in his mind, the deaths of the Assistant Commissioner and Daniel McNamara were being investigated as a corrupt cop and his business partner being killed by their cronies. Jaden McNamara could not stay with such a cloud hanging over him and it meant that Lisa Whitman, the grieving girl who lost a cousin and an uncle on the same day, would fall into his hands. The guns found on the scene of the motor vehicle accident were linked to the Cancel Dem Gang and the double murder in St. Jago Heights.

The way had been made clear for Antonio Sharpe to take over the reins of the Gang and reap the benefits of extortion and the pleasure of having Lisa all to himself now that Jaden McNamara’s cellular phone had also been found at the crime scene. A bounty had been placed on his head by the new mastermind of the criminal network. Antonio wanted to become the don of all dons and straddled the corporate world as the heir to a major trans-national company built by his father. His tentacles knew no boundaries and only one family, the McNamara’s, had the ability to connect the dots, if they got the chance to do so. However, they were now on the run from Jamaica.

Samantha left instructions for the cremation of Daniel’s remains and the lawyers would handle the sale of the house that they had lived in. There was no way she or her family would be setting foot back in Jamaica. Lisa Whitman and her mother moved from the neighbourhood and were provided a house that was owned by the Sharpe family on the outskirts of Spanish Town at a nominal rent. Their future would be secure as long as she stayed close to Antonio Sharpe and all her mother’s dreams would be fulfilled.

Amy, Mathew and I along with my mother Samantha boarded the plane in Montego Bay the next day on a nonstop flight to Gatwick Airport in London. Mummy and Daddy had always been prudent savers and believed in putting away something for a rainy day. The thunderstorm had landed on their doorstep and thankfully there was sufficient money in the bank account to take care of them for a while. Mummy was a qualified radiologist and she knew that work would not be too difficult to acquire in the Motherland. Based on my good performance in university, I was able to finish my studies in England or maybe even on the continent. Dad’s employee accidental death insurance policy as well as the several other policies provided a sizeable nest egg to ensure that the McNamara’s would not struggle to provide a roof over their head or food on the table.

I vowed that one day I would return to the land of my birth and reap my birth right, claim my girl and exact revenge on the person behind it all. I swore on the grave of my father that there was never an ill wind that blew anyone no good, but was sad that the tree of prosperity had to be watered with the blood of family or enemies in order to be fruitful. A sacrifice had to be made in order to seal the covenant and to receive the blessing. My father made the mistake of wanting to see his love interest and got caught making deals with corrupt people and ended up paying with his reputation and his life.