War

Living on the West side of Compton had its ups and downs.  Every day someone you knew or loved died.  I was born in 1979.  It was 1993 and Ice Cube had begun his successful solo career.  Eazy and Dre were feuding, and things were tense. 

I rolled the windows down to my 64.  Ty let out a puff of smoke.  We always met Thursday at 10am to make the dropoff.  We had been running guns since I was thirteen years old.  Anything from AK's to Mac 10's, anything to make a mother cry.  Did I feel guilty? Sometimes.  My mother had died when I was 12, a driveby meant for my father.  I had never seen him since, and took over all of my mothers debts and her house.  I assumed a different name as well.
"Alright boy, lets load em up."  The car doors opened, I stepped outside.  The California air is a dirty gritty thing.  They say its the equivalent to smoking a pack a day.  I can vouch for that. The humidity added in even more ruggedness, and the almost tropical climate led to always wearing shorts and a shirt.  We only wore armor if we were going to war, otherwise you could die of a heat stroke.
We had never gone into slanging 'cane or any other type of drugs.  When the heroin explosion started we vowed to stay out of it, but now times were tough.  Ty had been trying to persuade me to jump in on it, but the risks were too high.  We were already gambling with our lives with our gun "trading and borrowing" programs and we had enough heat as it was. Luckily the police were wasting enough resources on homicide detectives and vice.  Gun running had become easier since the dope explosion.  Much easier.  Our profits were lower though, since most of the gang money was going towards drug trade.
However we had a plan.  To start a few things off, a few local gangs were feuding over drug selling territory around the border of East and West side Compton.  Therefore, we thought it altogether fitting to start something.
The plan was this:  start a war, make a war economy, and sell guns.  Our projections had led us to a 1000% sales increase if we could land a deal with them.  I would assume West sides dealer, Ty would have East.  This way they would never know they were using the same guns as each other.
Our guns had no serial numbers-a trick we had learned in the late 80s before our old boss Smack died.  That was a different story.
Therefore we were untraceable, the cops were unable to find out who was selling these guns unless they did fingerprinting, which we were able to avoid as well.
We stacked the garbage bags into our trunks and locked them.  We hopped in our buckets and drove down towards our designated directions.  I headed to West Compton, waiting on Ty to start the war and call me.  My cell phone was in the car, the brick was unable to go anywhere else.  I smoked and waited.
About an hour later my phone rang.  Ty was ready, he had worn Green clothes and opened fire upon the East side territory.  He was on his way back to our hideout to change clothes. 
I rolled up to the known gang hideout, a local bar and other vice selling establishment.  I was wearing white, a peace token, and knocked.  The door swung open and a younger man looked at me. 
He had some charming words and asked my why I was there.  He looked like he was about to go somewhere and I knew I had them.
"Listen, I know what just happened.  I can get you what you need, for half price.  You just have to stay with me for two years, and you can smoke anyone you want to."  We bargained for a few minutes and I made the sale.  We got the bags out of my trunk and shook hands.  I got in my 64 and left.
When I got to the clubhouse there was yellow tape, and numerous cops.  I had no product left in the car so i pulled up.  What I saw would have made a normal man gag, but me...
Ty had been shot multiple times in the head.  He was laying, face down, on the curbside.  He had been executed.  He was still wearing the green clothes still, and had been followed home.  A pool of blood lay beside his body.  The cops obviously had no remorse for him, with so many outstanding warrants it was just another catch.  They asked me about funeral arrangements and I complied.
That night I slept soundly.  I woke up and loaded the guns, and at 10 I met the younger man at a Mcdonald's parking lot.   I lit a smoke.