Free Cry Revenge by Donald Goines

some good stuff."
    "Hey, my man," William began, "I thought all this crap was taken care of. When you told me to get the money together, and I told you I'd have to bring Tony along, you said cool. You said we could go in and test the dope right there. Now you act as if you want it to go some other kind of way."
    "That ain't goin' be cool at all," Tony stated loudly. "It's got to go like you said earlier, it's too late for changes, not if I'm going to spend my money anyway."
    As Dan got out of the car, he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't going as smoothly as he planned, he reflected, but he had foreseen problems and hoped that he had planned enough ahead to handle it.
    "We will see what we will see," Dan stated and walked toward the apartment building. Now he hoped, as he neared the building, that Emilio would have kept his part of the bargain so that things might still go off smoothly. Emilio Fernandez had been the only Mexican he could find who had the sense to pull this off. His brother Pedro was too hardheaded to work with, but Emilio was a horse of another color. He was chipping with the dope for one thing, so he was ready for anything that came along that might be smooth.

    As soon as he entered the front door of the dwelling, he saw Emilio sitting on the stairway. "Hey, Dan, baby, am I glad to see you." The tall, slim Mexican came toward Dan with his hand out. "Is everything all right? Did the johns show up?"
    Dan smiled at the Mexican. Emilio was boyishly slim, with dark eyes that matched the well-groomed black hair that fell around his ears. His nose was well shaped, as well as the small mouth that made him seem feminine.
    "Everything is all right so far, Emilio, except the mothahuppas want to come in and test the dope," Dan stated, slowly stroking his chin as he tried to figure out a solution for their problem.
    "Oh, shit, man, I knew it was too sweet to work. Shit, five hundred dollars, man! Aw shit, sonofabitch! It was too good." Emilio stopped, thought for a moment, then asked, "Hey, man, why don't we stick the mothafuckers up? I got my knife. Shit, man, if I'd only known, I could have stolen my brother's gun! Goddamn!" He was mumbling to himself.
    "Listen, amigo," Dan said quietly. "Let's try it this way first. You step out on the porch with me. Then I'm going to bring one of the guys up here, just one, and you hand me-naw, better yet, you show us the dummy envelope we made up. Then you step back inside, sayin' you ain't goin' do no business with nobody but one of us. You know how to come down, man. Scream about the other dude sittin' in the car, cap on 'em that it's too many people involved. Next time if he comes alone, you'll do business with him. Now, if he don't go for that," Dan added, "you tell us the hell with it, you don't need the money that bad, you dig? Turn your back like you don't want to waste no more time."

    "I dig," Emilio said. "We goin' bluff this shit out, huh? To the bitter."
    "Yeah," Dan said and opened the door. "Hey, Emilio, I see that Preacher has got his Cadillac sittin' down at the curb, so let's walk down to the car like it's yours, you dig, and you fake like you're going to get in it. That should fake the motherfuckers out of their socks. With a new Caddie sittin' at the curb, it should relieve their minds about gettin' burned for their little bread. After all, they'll figure the car is worth more money than what they're putting up, so as long as they see the car, their minds will be at ease."
    The two men walked down to the four-door Fleetwood. "I would open the door and sit down," Emilio said, "but I think the Preacher has an alarm on the fuckin' thing."
    "Yeah, man, you're right. It is one on it, so don't even shake the mother too hard. If the alarm goes off and we can't cut it off, it will blow our whole thing. Just fake like you're about to get in, then come back around and stand on the sidewalk. I ain't goin' be but a minute, so keep your fingers crossed."
    "Okay, partner,"