Black Senate

TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE BLACK SENATE

I: PENITENTIARY CHANCES

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

II: ROAD TO FREEDOM

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

III: DESTINY

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

EPILOGUE

BIO

WAHIDA CLARK PRESENTS

THE BLACK SENATE

BY

ZAID ZA'HID

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Wahida Clark Presents Publishing

60 Evergreen Place

Suite 904A

East Orange, New Jersey 07018

1(866)-910-6920

www.wclarkpublishing.com

Copyright 2017 © by Zaid Zah’id

All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Library of Congress Cataloging-In-Publication Data:

ISBN 13-digit 978-1944992-54-5 (paperback)

ISBN 13-digit 978-1944992569 (ebook)

ISBN 13-digit: 978-1944992552 (Hardback)

LCCN: 2017904233

1. Crime 2. Drug Trafficking- 3. African Americans-Fiction-

4. Urban Fiction- 5. Mafia- 6. Chicago-

Cover design and layout by Nuance Art, LLC

Book design by NuanceArt@aCreativeNuance.com

Edited by Linda Wilson

Printed in USA

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to my family and friends who believed in me. Thank you to Kayenne for mentoring me. This is dedicated to all the hustlers on these ghetto streets. The Black Senate is a fictional tale about a man on a quest to reclaim all that he's lost.

Zaid Za'hid

I

PENITENTIARY CHANCES

CHAPTER TWO

Because Kaleef feared Allah, he felt responsible for the poison he sold to other prisoners and the violence that occurred these last several months. He cringed. Without anyone on the outside looking out for him, he felt he had no choice.

Kaleef was the main distributor of narcotics in the Roosevelt Federal Penitentiary, and he controlled other illegal activities within the penal system. Due to his power and illegal millions, there had been many attempts on his life. Fifty percent of the prison guards were on his payroll. In the penitentiary, it was hard to tell who was the convict and who was leading the free life. Even the warden was getting his share of the money passing hands. Kaleef was the leader of the most notorious, vicious, and murderous organization in the Midwest Federal penitentiary, the Black Warriors.

He glanced up at his second in command, Jerusalem, who was still sleeping and snoring on the top bunk. Kaleef knew the moment he met Jerusalem eight years ago, that the then eighteen year old was a special breed and had come from a royal bloodline. Kaleef was a master at recognizing a young warrior. Jerusalem had entered one of the most vicious federal penitentiaries in America, but he walked in with confidence and showed no fear in his eyes.

Jerusalem, dark-skinned with piercing slanted brown eyes, entered his new cell without saying a word. He immediately began to make up his bunk. Kaleef wondered what the eighteen-year-old young man did to land him in the federal pen. It was a sign of disrespect to ask, so they both remained silent as young Jerusalem finished straightening up his bunk. Jerusalem jumped up on the top bunk, lay down, and stared at the ceiling in silence. Kaleef immediately recognized this as a sign of strength and knew this from his experience of being in the system. Entering these prison walls too friendly was prey for the wolves, because to the dogs, it was a sign of weakness. Formal introductions were not needed.

The clinking of the jail cell bars opening brought Kaleef back to the present and reminded him that it was time for breakfast.

Jerusalem woke up and said, Assalamu Alaikum.

Kaleef responded, Wa Alaikum Assalam. Let’s get ready for chow. Got some important business I want to discuss with you.

A few minutes later, Kaleef’s bodyguard, Malik, walked up to the cell. Malik had been Kaleef’s bodyguard for the last ten years. He loved Kaleef and wouldn’t think twice about giving his life for Kaleef. Now that a war was going on behind the prison walls, Malik stood closer to Kaleef more than ever. Standing in the doorway of the cell, he asked, Y’all ready to head to chow?

You know who we waiting on, Kaleef responded. Jerusalem is slow as a snail when it comes to getting up this early in the morning.

Kaleef, you’ve been getting up before sunrise for twenty years, Jerusalem said. Damn, when do you have time to sleep? You stay up ‘til the middle of the night reading and then turn around and get up with the chickens.

When you have a mission to complete, young king, you don’t sleep, you rest. One day you’re going to be given a mission and you’ll understand.

Jerusalem said, Malik, why you standing up there looking at me with that stupid ass look? As if you love to hear Kaleef school me. You find that amusing?

Malik responded, Somebody needs to school your little young ass.

Nigga, don’t make me get up in your shit this early in the morning, Jerusalem said as he continued to get dressed.

Kaleef interjected, "Check this out, Jerusalem. How many times must I tell you that, that word is not appropriate when speaking to your brothers? We’re kings and warriors. We come from a tribe well respected . . . high intelligent black men and women. A real king teaches family how to act with royalty. You have to get off that mentality, Jerusalem. One day your time is going to come, and you’re going to have to take on leadership. You think you're going to be able to get your people to follow you by calling them niggas and bitches? You got to raise them up so when they look at themselves, they will be proud to be part of this Black Nation."

Malik said, Kaleef, you want me to put him in a death lock.

Try it, big man, if you want to. Jerusalem held up his fists and stood as if he was ready to box. You know how I get down. You have seen me in action before. You know I’m a fuckin’ warrior.

Jerusalem and Malik got into a playful boxing match. Although the two talked shit to one another all the time, they really had love for one another. They were as close as brothers. Malik knew that although he was 5-feet 10-inches and weighed 235 pounds of pure muscle, Jerusalem was a warrior and would be a very good opponent. It wouldn’t be easy to defeat Jerusalem. Jerusalem was taller at 6-feet 1-inch, and his 200 pound frame was cut and muscular. Malik possessed strength, but clearly, Jerusalem possessed power and speed.

Y'all stop that horse playing and let’s roll out, Kaleef said.

The three of them walked down the tier, and at least fifty Black Warriors stood waiting on Kaleef, their leader, and Jerusalem, his second in command, his general. This was their normal protocol as they all walked together to the chow hall.

As Kaleef and his soldiers entered the chow hall, Kaleef bumped into a short and chubby Latino. Jose, the leader over the prison’s most notorious Latin gang, was Kaleef’s arch enemy. Both stopped on opposite ends of the door way and a staring match got underway as their soldiers lined up behind them. One of Jose’s men walked forward and attempted to block the open space beside them.

Jerusalem stepped up and stood right next to Kaleef. Y’all motherfuckers bow down to Black royalty and let real kings and rulers enter this motherfucker.

We run this motherfucker, Jose responded. Y’all niggas are getting too big for y’all jail suits. There’s going to come a time when a person’s going to have to shrink y’all back to size.

Shrink who down to size? You wetback piece of shit, Jerusalem shouted. You motherfuckas are still operating because we allow y’all to still operate. You need to kiss Kaleef’s right hand and thank him for letting y’all still eat. ‘Cause motherfuckas, if it was up to me, I wouldn’t give you dirty motherfuckers a crumb.

Jose’s voice cracked as he laughed. His long, black ponytail shifted as he moved his head. You dumb nigga. You can’t give me shit. I take what I want if I choose to take something. Believe me, it wouldn’t be crumbs.

Kaleef, without flinching, said, Jose, you know like I know that this ain't the time nor place for this. Step to the side. Let me and my men go and enjoy our breakfast.

I choose the time and the place. Who are you, Kaleef? You think you can give orders to me? You think you that motherfucking powerful? Walking around here as if you’re King fuckin’ Tut or somebody. Like this prison is your kingdom. So no, motherfucka, you step to the side and let me and my crew pass.

A baldheaded Latino with a body and face full of tattoos moved forward. Carlos was Jose’s right hand man. He stopped and stood directly in front of Jerusalem, invading his space. They were standing so close they could feel each other's breath. Jerusalem stared down into his eyes and whispered, What, motherfucka? You ready to die?

One of the guards who had been watching from the sidelines the entire time said, Let’s break this little meeting up. If you’re eating, go get in the chow line. If you’re not, get the fuck out of my chow hall.

As Kaleef and his men walked through the door, Jose’s men had no recourse but to move and stand aside. When Jerusalem walked past, Carlos said, We will meet again, my friend. You can bet your life on that.

CHAPTER THREE

The tension in the yard was so tense you could feel it in the air. Every general of every organization seemed to be on alert. Almost every foot soldier stood near their homemade weapons. Kaleef began his five mile run, while his Black Warriors keep a close watch. Jerusalem, Malik, and the other soldiers worked out on the weight benches to ease some of the tension.

Thirty minutes later, Kaleef completed his run. Dripping with sweat, he walked up to Jerusalem, who was still pumping iron. Breathing heavily and trying to control his breathing, Kaleef said, Jerusalem, come take a walk with me.

Jerusalem completed his rep, draped his towel around his head, and walked on the side of Kaleef as they walked through the yard.

The armed guards stood on the tower holding twelve gauge shotguns. The spacious yard separated the races of the prisoners with an invisible line. If you were not part of that particular race, you weren't supposed to cross that invisible line uninvited. Most of the Mexicans stood or sat near the outdoor boxing rings directly across from where the Blacks congregated. Jose and some of his Latin brothers were hitting on the punching bags and jumping rope. Some of the white prisoners were in their small designated area sitting on benches and shooting the breeze.

The neutral zone of the yard was the only place where anybody could come and go as they pleased. Besides it being a neutral zone, what the other prisoners called weaklings, snitches, punks, pedophiles, rapists and outcasts, also occupied it.

What’s going on? Kaleef asked.

We need to make a move on these esés before they make a move on us, Jerusalem replied. You know it's just a matter of time before they feel like they’re powerful enough to come up against us again.

Yeah, I know. However, I’m trying to avoid another war. Because it's bad on our business when blood is shed. The guards are going to crack down on us, and we’re not going to be able to make moves like we normally make. However, I know Jose is not going to want peace right now 'cause he doesn't have anything to lose; especially now that I control all the drug activity that goes in and out of here.

Yeah, ‘cause it’s big business. A lot of money changing hands. A lot of money to be made.

Jerusalem and Kaleef each took a seat on a bench near the track away from everybody, but in plain view of all that was going on in the yard.

Kaleef leaned over and put his hands on his chin. I got something very important to talk to you about. I've always known that when I came here, I wouldn't be leaving a free man. When I leave here, it’s going to be as a dead man because I’m doing natural life.

Jerusalem continued to look around the yard as he listened to Kaleef.

See, this society is ready to see warriors like you and me die before we fulfill our destiny. I was once the most notorious drug lord in Illinois history. I made hundred millions of dollars through drug trade. Twenty years. Since I’ve been incarcerated, a lot of my family has passed away. All I have left now is Khadijah, my twenty-four-year-old daughter and Raheem, my one-year-old grandson. Khadijah doesn't want anything to do with me because of my past life. But she's still my daughter and I love her and my grandson very much. Jerusalem, I still have fifty million that the Feds didn’t get.

Fifty million! Jerusalem said.

Yes, fifty million. That’s not including the money I've made since being here. Most of that money was spent on making sure our organization and their families were taken care of. I realize you have less than a year left. Kaleef smiled. I know you have the capabilities to continue where I left off. Because the mission doesn't stop . . . the baton is passed to the next person to lead the position. Jerusalem, I want you to have that money and continue where I left off by building us a Black nation. Since America won't let us build our own home for our people, we're going to build us a nation for our people—by any means necessary.

Jerusalem was no longer looking around the yard. He stared at Kaleef to make sure he didn't miss any words.

Kaleef said, If it's our fate to complete this mission, let it be. If it's our fate to die as we try to complete this mission, let it be. But we can't be afraid to walk through these flames knowing who we are and what we're here for.

How am I supposed to do that? Jerusalem tapped his foot. All I know is these streets. I learned a lot from you since I’ve been here. You’ve been like a father to me, but now you talking like you not sure if you going to be around much longer. I can’t understand where all of this is coming from. Why you decide to mention all this to me now?

Kaleef dropped his hand from his chin. I got faith in you, Jerusalem. You’ll figure it out, young king, when the time comes. Khadijah still lives in the house that I bought her mama. I hid the money in the walls of the basement. I need you to get that money and continue to build the Black Senate.

With you guiding me every step of the way, I can't fail and I won’t fail, Jerusalem responded, not fully grasping the huge responsibility he had taken on.

I have faith in you, Jerusalem. You’re one of the chosen ones. It’s time for you to recognize your capabilities and start to feel your bloodline. You are a born king, Jerusalem. Your destiny is to rule. It’s your turn to go out and build your kingdom. I love you like my son.

And I love you like my father, Jerusalem replied.

They embraced.

Sounds of prisoners yelling echoed from the other side of the yard. That’s when they noticed the Mexican Mafia attacking Kaleef’s organization of Black Warriors. No words needed to be said. They rushed toward the commotion. From a distance, all they could see was the Mexican Mafia with shanks and other homemade weapons involved in combat with the Black Warriors.

Since they were already expecting another war at any given moment, Kaleef's organization was prepared with homemade weapons and shanks of their own. When they noticed Mexican Mafia soldiers charging them, Kaleef's army attacked, and when they collided, it was like two trains crashing.

Malik was being tripled teamed. He could handle two of the guys with no problem, but the third one posed a problem. Jerusalem noticed one of their enemies' inches away from shanking Malik. He kicked the guy, catching him off guard. The shank dropped from his hand, giving Malik the opening to bum rush him. Malik swung a vicious blow to his face with his iron fist. Jerusalem reached under his jacket and retrieved the shank he had taped to his side and shanked the guy who originally had intentions on killing Malik.

Jerusalem now stood face to face with Carlos, Jose’s right hand man.

Are you ready to die now, motherfutha? Carlos asked as he swung at Jerusalem with his shank.

Jerusalem backed back and said, Oh, you’re going to have to come better than that. ‘Cause you're fucking with a born warrior.

I’m Carlos Sanchez, motherfucka! This time Carlos swung upward, aiming at Jerusalem’s stomach.

Jerusalem tilted his body, giving him enough time to catch Carlos with his shank in his lower side. He drove the shank in with full force as he whispered in his ear, So we meet again. Now die, motherfucka! Jerusalem twisted the shank as the man squealed like a little pig. He yanked the shank out as the dude fell to the ground. He bent down and wiped the shank across his mouth, making Carlos taste his own blood as he choked and died. Jerusalem continued on attack mode in the battle of the Mexicans against the Blacks.

Kaleef, being a born warrior, was destroying some of Jose’s soldiers upon immediate contact with just the power of his hands. One of Jose’s men tried to shank him in the stomach. Kaleef jumped back, grabbed the man’s wrist that held the shank, and with his right hand, hit him in the throat, making direct contact with his windpipe.

The alarm sounded, alerting the guards to the riot. The alarm sounding didn’t stop either camp from going after one another. Instead, the fights got more intense as some soldiers fell to the ground.

No one ever noticed Jose. His eyes remained glued on Kaleef as he crept like an alley cat through the commotion.