IBO by Brian R. Lundin (the best books of all time .txt) 📕

them off. Someway the feds found out about the rip-off and they started setting up stings. Federal agents would act as drug dealers and they built a case on the Pacman and his crew. I went a couple of times to his trial and man those damn feds had video and audio tapes showing Pacman ripping their agents off. I read in the papers that they got life in the joint. Too bad, he was my man.”
“What about Rico?” Malik asked.
“He got fucked up too, he got popped in some fucked up drug deal, I don’t know all the details but I hear it was fucked up. Let’s talk again in a couple of days about the deal with Morressy. I’ve got to let the board know something by the end of the week.”

“Man oh man that some tough shit, Ok, I’ll think about the deal and give you my ideas; let’s meet Sunday in the playground.”
With the gang getting out of the retail end of the drug business, other street gangs were moving west of State Street into the projects; this meant war between the gangs and killings and drive by shootings were everyday occurrences.
Malik thought about the deal with Morressy. It was real risky, the courier had to be trustworthy and recruited, the money had to be gotten out of the country and pass customs and the drugs had to be brought in pass customs, but he had a plan, he met Pops that Sunday in the playground.
“What’s up?” Pops asked.
“This is what I suggest you do, first, select some of your best and most trusted governors to be couriers on the first leg, which we will call the Bangkok leg, second, tell your governors to recruit women with small children for our couriers on that leg, the second leg, which we will call our Paris and Berlin leg, have the governors and women leave Bangkok after they get the goods and fly to Paris and then to Berlin, on the same plane but not together, the third leg, we will call the home leg. Convert small bills into large bills and see if you can find or have made a body money belt or girdle that the women can wear under their clothes.”
”Ok, Harvard, I’m lost.” Pops said.
“On the first leg, our couriers have got to get the money passed customs, let’s say $200,000. When you go through customs you have to declare anything over $10,000, the women will have the money strapped to their bodies, money don’t set off the metal detectors. The governors will go with the women, on the same plane but not together, the governors will be there to protect our money. The governor and the woman will stay at the same hotel in Bangkok, but in different rooms. After the exchange is made, the governor and the woman will take the same plane, but again different seats to Paris and Germany. We will select a city in Germany that has United States military bases. German customs is probably use to seeing black females with babies coming into the country to visit husbands or boyfriends in the military. Again, the courier and our governor will leave Germany on the same plane but have will have separate reservations. We will meet them at O’Hara, not Midway, because O’Hara is larger and the custom guys are probably not as attentive as the customs guys at Midway who have a smaller crowd to deal with.”
“My man, you did learn something at that fancy school,” Pops said smiling.
“I checked with the State Department about how to obtain a passport, it usually takes about ten days, unless when you apply you have an airline ticket, then you can get the passport immediately, I also suggest we take a trip to Bangkok, Paris and Germany to check things out first.”
“That’s sound good, I’ll set it up,” Pops said.
The Board of Governors approved Pops proposal and he arranged for him and Malik to go to Bangkok.
At O’Hare Airport, Malik noticed how the custom agents appeared to carefully inspect the luggage of black Americans arriving from Africa, Central America and the Far East, but as Morressy said it was a cursory search of travelers from Europe or Germany.
Upon their arrival in Bangkok, Morrissey and a strikingly beautiful Eurasian young woman meet them at the airport.
“Welcome to Bangkok, Pops and Malik, my name is Askido Williams and I am Morrissey sister. I have a car waiting.”
Askido was a small woman about five feet tall, but was perfectly proportioned. She was perhaps twenty-two years old and was wearing a multi-colored sarong that came down to the middle of her knees. Her legs were bare and her angles were bound with thin straps of black leather snaking up form delicate sandals. As she came closer, her scent was floral, and smelled like freshly cut flowers a slight breeze, buffeted her sarong and it clung and accentuated her slender body and small breast. She had long black hair that nearly covered her small face in the breeze. Her skin was a deep cinnamon or mahogany color. She had intelligent and piercing slanted jet black eyes with a little cross of light at the center of each, like deep dark holes that seemed to penetrate the soul and a shy smile that seemed friendly and selfless. Her full face possessed an earthy black look that exuded a raw sexuality. Askido dropped Pops and Malik at the Siam City Hotel, which, she told them, was the finest in Asia and an American and Asian conglomerate owned it. As they Malik and Pops entered the hotel, they agreed to meet her for dinner later. When they entered the elegant, plush, floral carpeted lobby, they observed a golden colored live tiger pacing back and forth in a huge glass enclosed cage. They both were mesmerized as the large beast prowled back and forth looking at its audience and baring its large curved fangs. There was a line at the check-in desk; Pops was standing behind a white woman wearing tight denim, and a black turtle neck sweater. Her long blond hair was down to the middle of her back and she was barefooted. A wide leather belt is cinched tight and accentuates her behind. She turns around and looks at Pops with gives him a flirtatious smile. After about ten minutes, it was their turn to register. Malik gave the clerk their names and registration confirmation number.
The clerk looked at her computer screen and told them there was a flag on their reservation and she would have to call her supervisor. A few moments later, an Asian woman wearing a colorful full-length sarong introduced herself as Malee, the day shift supervisor
“Welcome to the Siam City Hotel gentlemen,” she said in perfect English and a big smile, your room is ready and the bill has been taken care of by a Mr. Morrissey.”
The hotel interior was undeniably rich and impeccably furnished, but also warm. It blended various marble stones, friezes, matched woods, and marquetry panels.
From somewhere a young Asian man appeared with a luggage cart. Malik and Pops put their luggage on the cart.
“Suite 1224, Xaon” Malee said and the young man told them to follow him.
As they walked through the lobby Xaon pointed out the health club, pool, barber shop, cocktail lounges, souvenir shops and the restaurants.
“The Japanese food is excellent in there,” he said pointing to a restaurant with the name, Kemon Japanese Restaurant, stenciled on the window and, “that’s a fashionable men’s shop,” he said as they passed an opened door shop with expensively dressed male and female mannequins in the window.
They were led up a doublewide marble staircase where they boarded an elaborately decorated elevator.
“This elevator is only used for the hotel suites,” Xaon said proudly.”
Xaon opened the door to their suite with a key card and gave one to Malik and one to Pops. After putting their luggage on a luggage holder, he prepared to leave.
“Thank you,” Malik said pressing a fifty-dollar bill into his hand. Xaon left the room smiling broadly.
“Man, oh man,” Pops, said looking around the suite.
The suite floors were covered with savonnerie carpeting. There were two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom and 42-inch plasma television and a Sirius radio. Each bedroom contained a large mahogany round bed and lying on top of the beds was a silk multi-colored bathrobe with the monogram SIAM HOTEL. The bathrooms contained an oval light green Jacuzzi, an enclosed sauna and the marble tile was off-white from floor to ceiling. The fixtures were polished brass fixtures and shining. There was a combination living room and sitting room and a 54-inch plasma television was on one wall. After unpacking his overnighter, hanging three shirts and two pair of pants in the large closet and putting his extra underwear and socks on the closet shelf, Malik walked over to the window and looked down, directly below was a large blue bottomed swimming pool. Women wearing thong bikinis were lounging on brightly colored lounge chairs and a few people were in the pool.
Malik was tired and told Pops he was going to take a nap and wake him in a couple of hours. Pops awaken Malik at noon; he was wearing a pair of multi-colored swimming trunks.
Repressing the urge to laugh, Malik asked, “Been swimming?”
“Hell no man, I don’t know how to swim, but I looked down there and saw all that ass parading around the pool and I thought I would join them, bought the duds in the gift shop.”
“Make any new friends? Malik asked smiling.
“Maybe, I met this gorgeous Chinese broad who had an ass like a black woman, but as we were getting acquainted some old Chinese muthafucka came and they left, shit.”
“Want to walk around and see the sights?” Malik asked.
“OK, let me change and take a quick shower.”
Pops and Malik was surprised at how modern and friendly the city was. Skyscrapers doted the city and cars were everywhere. There was a McDonalds and a Kentucky Chicken restaurant in what they figured was the downtown section. The olive complexion people smiled at them as they passed and seemed like everyone who eyes they met bowed. They stopped in a quaint shop and Malik bought Joyce a brightly colored sarong. After a while the sun became scorching and they decided to get some lunch a drink to get out the sun. They stopped at the Woran Restaurant and Lounge that advertised PRIVATE DANCERS and American food. When they entered, they were met by oriental looking women who had a nice shape despite the fact of the encroachment of time standing at the reservation desk.
“Where are the private dancers?” Pops asked.
In broken English she replied, “You want to see the dancers? Very pretty girls all young and beautiful.”
Her nametag read Suelee and they followed her through an arched entrance above which was a red flashing neon sign that blinked NUDE DANCERS. She seated them at a table that contained a red tablecloth and was right in front of the stage.
“A waitress will be with you in a minute, our main