You owe me a lot of money


Holding one of the highest populations on planet Earth, Brooklyn is home to a very diverse group of people. Everything from Hispanics, to Blacks, to Italians, to Polish, to whatever resides here. The income brackets vary so much here that it makes Brooklyn the perfect city to turn a hustler into a millionaire without leaving the block.
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Dragan Raznatovic
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You owe me a lot of money

Post by Dragan Raznatovic » April 10th, 2017, 11:13 pm

"Everyone always pays, one way or another."

The voice on the other end of the cell phone call is calm when he utters those words and the Serb can follow hidden meaning of that remark. It was the Serb's job to collect the money but if he didn't and he returned empty handed back the man would die as an example of what happens when you refuse to pay to those you owe. This message was close to a year ago and as word stopped coming from the Poles in Greenpoint the Serb got bold.

He sets up his usual collection at a local coffee shop where he will blend in with many of the other Eastern European ex pats who filtered into the Brooklyn area. The man arriving also doesn't stick out considering the numerous black enclaves located throughout the Borough. The Serbs eyes flicker as Gavin Suggs strolls inside wearing his light khakis and white Kangol cap backwards which looked like it was just pulled out of the box before he got there.

The Serb watches him like a Lion in a cage eyeballing a nice rotund wildebeest just out of reach. His face is stoic as the African American takes a seat across from. He looks down as the aged Record executive who then kicks the bag gently under the table over to Dragan who smirks in response.

"Seems heavier," laughs the Serb as Gavin nods, "Yeah, I figured your good getting your hands dirty. I put some extra money in there for you to do something for me.

"Didn't think I worked for you," smirks the Serbian, "But I am always interested in more money. What is it you were expecting me to do for the extra money?"

"I am hemorrhaging money and," Gavin stutters.

"Not sure what that has to do with me," Dragan interupts.

"I can't sustain to pay you off if I don't have money," Gavin states frankly.

Dragan laughs, "I see. So?"

Gavin gets quieter when he practically whispers, "I need someone," he gestures with his fingers in the sign of a gun, using his thumb as a hammer. The Serb glances over to his partner who seemed already salivating at the chance to make money and kill which were his two favorite tasks. Dragan unfortunately wasn't as simple.

"Chance Rocca was a rapper who was under my label. Unfortunately the assholes at Death Money Records managed to get his contract for all his new work. I still own the record contracts for all his old music so I get the royalties to everything bought from his old work. Now he's working in the studio and looking to pop out more singles and eventually an Album. I need money now to breath new life into my label and I can't risk him releasing new stuff."

The Porsche pulls up across the street from the rows of massive hedges blocking the front of the house giving them cover from the neighbors view point and of course the viewpoint of the house they were getting ready to visit. Dragan finishes his cigarette and outs it inside of the ash tray of the Porsche, smoke spewing from his nostrils and mouth like a fire breathing denizen of hell. Leather gloved fingers toy with their weapons. Bullets loaded the night before into magazines using latex covered hands and wiped down with rubbing alcohol to ensure no DNA or evidence of sort could be left behind.

The slide clinks back on the M&P when Srdjan brass checks his piece out of nervous habit. Ski masks go down and cold blue piercing eyes meet briefly before Dragan gives a nod and the pair step out. Doors on the Porsche lock behind as they approach up the non gated drive way of Chance's driveway.

Inside the studio in the back was Chance and the girl of the night along with his longtime friend and bodyguard, Ricky Williams. It wasn't a typical studio night, tonight was just for fun to see what type of creativity he could come up with for the CD he planned to release next year. He's kicking out beats while he freestyles some verses and sings others.

Jacky sips her Ciroq and Coke unaware of what was coming. Unaware the politics at play when all she wanted was to fun night with a celebrity. Chance finishes his last line and gestures over as the door bell rings.

Chance's eyes dart up, "Nigga you orda a pizza?"

Ricky laughs, "Nah man, I don't know who that is. You invite more people over?"

Chance shrugs, "Don't remember, just go see who it is."

Ricky heads upstairs to answer the door. The Serbs had split up allowing Dragan to come in through the back yard. The light flicks on while he comes through the back to the French doors. They aren't difficult for him to pick. Ricky's attention is to the front door and doesn't notice the backdoor light come on. He walks over and peeps through the hole only to see a ski mask wearing figure staring back at him.

He manages to mumble, "What the fuck," before the blade of Dragan's SOG Seal knife carves into his wind pipe and slices across his carotid. Blood sprays out across the white front door as he violently swings about knocking over the lamp nearest to the Air Conditioning vent and crashing to the floor. The Serb glances for a second to make sure he's dead before he unlocks and opens the front door for Srdjan to come inside. Together the ski mask figures scatter amongst the house.

Chance steps out of the booth and heads over to Jacky who is more than happy to give him the attention he was looking for. She rushes over to his lap and plays with his face abandoning her Rum and Coke without an after thought. Oh it's clear she has her priorities straight he thinks to himself as he leans back in the studio chair.

"What you think baby girl," he says with a smirk.

"Bad ass Boo," her eyes smitten with what she was staring out. Ironically not his face but the gold Rolex adorning his left wrist. He didn't notice though.

He moves and she gets the picture and gets up to allow him out of the chair. He's about to head into the studio booth again for round two when he hears the crash. He wouldn't have heard it if he was in the booth. His eyes shoot up towards the sound and realizes it came from upstairs.

Srdjan heads upstairs to the bedrooms while Dragan creeps downstairs into the studio. Chance hears the noise of someone coming down the steps and yells for Ricky.

"Is that you Nigga?"

No answer comes back as the Serb continues down the steps. Chance panicking now immediately turns the lights off and jumps behind the couch. Jacky rushes to the other side of the room to hide behind series of standing shelves holding awards, records, and other memorabilia commemorating Chance's career. The ski mask wearing Serb strolls in, lights off and takes a minute for his eyes to adjust.

When he's comfortable he continues into the room and peers around before flicking the lights back on. Jackie's heart is racing, he breath getting increasingly harder for her to catch and slow down as death creeps closer to her. He's right on top of her practically when he hears Chance move and he hears the distinct click of the hammer of a firearm.

Dragan jumps and Chance lets off a blind and wild volley of single shots from the Beretta he took off the table. The rounds have a rising trajectory hitting the ceiling and high walls. The bullets hit everything and anything mid to high range, one hops and tears through the wood shelving and caught Jacky in the face. Dragan pulls his Mk 25, hammer already cocked back and puts two rounds through the desk hitting Chance center mass in his chest. Srdjan comes rushing down the steps after the shooting and he sees Dragan on the ground and Chance now groaning and dragging himself.

The Serb casually stands up decocking the hammer on his pistol as he puts it back into his waistband. He pulls the SOG Knife from his lateral sheath and walks over to the struggling Chance. He puts his knee on his back and runs the business end of his knife across Chance's throat. Blood sprays down into the carpet. The Serb cleans his blade off on Chance's shirt and walks out with Srdjan. Once they reach the front door they rush back out to the Porsche and drive off.

Gavin's sittings at breakfast. Watching the news of last night. The broadcaster is shocked by the brutality of the scene.

"Blood Everywhere. Murder of Chance Rocca, his bodyguard Ricky Williams and present fling Jackie Rodriguez. Police don't currently have any leads but speculation seems to be on his long history of problems with rival record artists who represent local gangs in the area."

Gavin sips his coffee again and then turns the television off.


Hired by Gavin Suggs to kill local Rapper Chance Rocca
$125,000 - Cash ($75,000 for the murder, $50,000 owed by Gavin to the Chlebek Gang pocketed by Dragan.)

(Contact) Gavin Suggs - "A small-time executive for the label Bored2Def Records. Gavin’s been in the music industry for most of his adult life, and in the past managed a number of blues, jazz, and rock bands. Lately his financial troubles and inability to bet on the right records have relegated him to a position as chairman of a rapidly sinking brand. He is uncharacteristically out of place with the gangsta rappers he now represents, as well as the towering big-money labels that stand behind the competition. His only leg-up in the business is his connection to a variety of organized crime figures in his native New York. " Owes a lot of money and favors to the Chlebek Gang who was having the Serbs collect from him in return for a small cut. Times have changed and the Serbs without Gavin's knowledge are still bleeding him without kicking up to the Polish gang.

Murder of Chance Rocca, Jackie Rodriguez, and Ricky Williams.

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Re: You owe me a lot of money

Post by Magnus » April 18th, 2017, 3:02 pm

Great detail... really enjoyed the read. Sometimes it felt a bit rushed especially between scenes. Overall I really got a good picture of what was going on and it had a bit of excitement to it that kept me interested. I look forward to seeing what more may come of this contact...

Hired by Gavin Suggs to kill local Rapper Chance Rocca
$125,000 - Cash ($75,000 for the murder, $50,000 owed by Gavin to the Chlebek Gang pocketed by Dragan.) Granted.

(Contact) Gavin Suggs Granted.

Murder of Chance Rocca, Jackie Rodriguez, and Ricky Williams Granted.


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