Gun Page #5

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times of deliveries.

When the weapons are going out

and when they're coming in.

F***, man, come on!

You got to give me something!

Where are the weapons being housed?

He ain't talking.

Look, man, don't forget

who you're doing this for.

You got a little girl.

Haven't you put that little girl

through enough?

All right, f*** it.

- What?

- 1448 Griggs.

Now, do you have any new information

about who's supplying Rich?

Whatever is going down,

it's going down soon.

All right, I'll take it.

You can go.

Don't do anything stupid.

That's 1448 Griggs.

We'll need backup at 0500 hours.

Whoa. Whoa, wait. What are you doing?

We already have enough evidence against

Rich to arrest him without his supply.

We need his source.

The Mayor is up your ass

on this investigation,

and we cannot afford any more dead bodies

'cause you're playing possum

with your f***ing C.I.

My f***ing C.I.?

This isn't your call anymore.

- Hey, this is Lisa.

- And Hayley.

We can't get the phone right now,

but if you leave a message,

we'll get back to you.

Hello?

What's up? It's Rich.

Hey, Rich.

Yo, I'm getting ready to

leave the hotel right now.

I need to holla at you for a minute.

All right, what's up?

I just need to talk to you

about this sh*t in person.

Okay.

Yeah, sure.

I need you to come somewhere, man.

Okay. Where?

The warehouse.

I just want to talk to you

about this sh*t face-to-face.

Uh...

yeah, whatever.

- What time?

- 10 pm.

Don't be having me waiting and sh*t.

Okay. I'll see you there.

Angel.

What's up?

Nothing. How you doing?

You look like somebody killed your dog,

you all right?

Yeah. No, just...

I got a cold,

and I'm f***ing tired, you know.

You need to loosen your nuts a little bit.

So, uh...

what'd you want to...

talk to me about?

Walk with me.

Been hearing some things, man.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

Word on the street is

my time is tightening up.

One of my people got a link down

at the department.

Say they trying to put a stop

to my whole operation.

Say they on my ass.

You don't believe that sh*t, do you?

Say information leaking from the inside.

You know anything about that?

No, man, I...

I don't know nothing.

Well, this sh*t is driving me crazy.

Hey.

A lot of people don't know this.

Back when I was a little kid,

about 10 years old,

my pops used to run numbers

for some niggas over on division.

So one night, they came by the house.

Okay, shh.

My mom, she hid me in the closet

when she seen 'em coming,

'cause she knew when my pops

came up light with their money,

they was gonna throw down on his ass.

Yo, what's going on, dawg?

Man, I don't even trying

to hear that sh*t, man.

See, my pops used to carry

this old Browning high-power 9 millimeter.

Where the f*** my money at, man?

But this time that Browning jammed

on his ass.

No!

I sat there and I watched

them blow both of my parents away

right there in front of me.

Can you imagine what that feels like,

to watch the only people you love

die right there in front of you

and you can't do sh*t about it?

If my pops had a revolver,

sh*t would have been different.

Hell, I would have been different.

There's nothing in this world

worse than having your hands tied,

seeing the ones you love die.

The only thing left now

is to get to the top of this thing.

I'm right there, man.

I mean, we right there.

I'm gonna take this sh*t

to a more sophisticated level.

No more selling little pieces to gangbangers

on the side and sh*t like that, man.

I'm thinking bigger and better sh*t.

I need a guy like you by my side.

The people I'm dealing with

would be way more comfortable with you

than Dante and Clinton.

Them niggas is way too unpredictable, man.

I want to make you my number-one guy

with this whole thing.

What do you say?

Uh, sure.

What's wrong?

I don't mean any disrespect,

but why did you bring me here?

I mean, here.

I'm stressed out, man.

It's tough.

I wanted to come in and bust some shots,

get my mind right.

Well...

What, you thought this was

some kind of setup and sh*t?

No, I... I...

Don't start bitchin' out on me, all right?

Come on, man, you're supposed to

be my number-one guy.

After I'm done shooting,

I'm gonna take you to the mall and sh*t,

fix you up and sh*t.

How you be dressing like that, man?

What's wrong with my clothes?

Everything.

What the f*** you doing

with your money, man?

Do you honestly feel

he is ready for this?

You've gone down the road

with these street thugs before.

- It's never ended well.

- He's different.

Trust me.

Hmm.

Cartel wars in Mexico are heating up.

Rising demand for powerful assault rifles,

firearms...

Means big business for us.

And in this economy, nobody on my end

wants to see that money disappear.

My family's been in the gun business

since the Hoover administration,

and we cannot afford to bring in anybody

who could put that at risk.

Sam, I have worked with Rich

for over a year now.

I watch the way he moves.

I watch the way he works.

He's ready to move to the next level.

And no one knows how to handle the streets

better than he does.

That your professional opinion?

Well, there's none other.

You seem more attached to this one.

You do know that I'm not gonna be the one

that takes the fall if this goes wrong.

If anybody takes a hit,

it's going to be you.

You understand?

Do you understand?

There is a Rich in every hood in America.

The n*gger is the expendable part

of this game.

Yes, I understand.

Set the meeting.

But...

First, go take a shower.

I'll be there in a second.

Absolutely.

Let's turn this place upside down!

Okay, Moore, Veton, and Vance,

come with me!

What's up?

You been acting strange all night.

It's nothing.

I just have a lot on my mind.

Chill out.

You said everything went well

with Sam, right?

Everything we've been working hard for

is about to pay off.

It's supposed to be a celebration.

Yeah, it is.

I'm happy. I promise.

Sir, I'm sorry, but the place is clean.

What the f***, Rogers?

We don't have enough here

to shake a limp prick at.

My C.I. couldn't have been wrong.

Either someone tipped Rich off or he's

moving a shitload of product tonight.

Or your C.I. is giving false intel to

keep the heat off somebody he's protecting.

If you don't start to pull together this

investigation, you are as over as your C.I.

- Hey, you got a cigarette?

- Yeah, sure.

- Thanks, man.

- Here you go.

ATF f***ing a**hole!

- What's up?

- What the f*** is the deal, Angel?

Peterson just busted Rich's warehouse.

I guess someone gave Rich the heads-up,

'cause I got no suspect, no weapons,

no blood, no nothing.

Hey, hey, hey, calm the f*** down.

Now, I am on my way to the one guy

who should know where he is.

Guess who that is, a**hole.

Shut the f*** up.

Don't talk to me like that.

You've got five seconds

to tell me where the new den is

or your ass is getting thrown back in jail

before the sun sets!

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