Sabotage by Dale Wiley Read Free Book Online Page A

went down in other places, but he was the only celebrity to be named in the radio broadcasts.
    That seemed strange to him. He was a star, but he wasn’t a household name by any stretch. Most teenagers would know him and every jewelry dealer in California already knew him but most white people and even older black people certainly didn’t. Why would they choose him? Was it just some coincidence? He had to think more big names were coming. Certainly they wouldn’t just tap little old him.
    Joey remembered September 11. He remembered how the nation came to a standstill, how they honored the heroes, and took a couple of days to get together and mourn before returning to business as usual.
    He thought this would be similar. But he was enraged they involved him. That wasn’t his thing. He wasn’t a Muslim; he wasn’t anything really. He occasionally wore a cross, but that was as religious as he got. Why had they used him?
    At this point, everyone seemed to think he was dead. One report from a guy so white he probably pissed milk said he was on stage in the middle of his set when this happened. Dumb fuckin reporters.
    He had missed five calls from Raylon, but he hadn’t even tried to answer any of them. He wasn’t going to pick up the phone, at least not until he knew what he was going to do. This hurt him. He needed Raylon at a time like this, and he sure as hell knew Raylon needed him. But he didn’t know what was up.
    Was this targeted for him, or did he happen to be just another incidental casualty?
    Becky picked up her phone and started to dial.
    Joey grabbed the phone from her and turned it off.
    “What you doin?”
    “Sorry, baby. Give me a minute to think. They may have been after me.”
    “What does that mean?” Her attitude and swagger were completely gone.
    All of that White Diesel he smoked a few minutes ago fucking left him in an instant. He had a plan. No bitch could control him.
    Becky snatched at the phone, but Joey held it tight.
    He kept his voice calm. “Baby. Stop. You may be in danger. I may be in danger. If you give me a headache, I’ll just kick your ass out and my driver and I’ll get my own damn self to safety.”
    Becky looked up at him. This shit was serious. She recognized he meant every word. She recoiled and sulked.
    That was fine with Joey. He preferred silence at the moment. He buried his eyes with his hand.
    Becky used his moment of inattention to steal her phone back.
    Damn bitch wasn’t gonna get away with that. He held his hand out and kept his gaze on her, until she finally gave him her phone.
    Joey rolled down the privacy screen to speak to the driver, who just became his new best friend.
    “Got any more info?”
    “Nothing, boss. Just what you’ve heard on the radio.”
    “That’s some bullshit. Drive north to the 405. How long should that take?”
    “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”
    “That’s it. Do that. And don’t tell no one who you got.”
    “I turned off all our little devices. We rollin’ silent.”
    Joey scratched his chin. “What yo name?”
    “Marvin. Marvin Ellis.”
    “Marvin, I’m glad you my driver. You straight.”
    Marvin knew compliments didn’t come often from this man. He had driven for Joey’s posse for two years and transported Joey himself on half a dozen different occasions. Yet the rapper had no idea who he was. Marvin was pretty sure this duty would stick. Marvin didn’t mind too much. That was part of his job.
    “Thanks. I’ll let you know when I’m getting close.” He put back up the privacy screen and looked for the HOV lane.
    “Let me know. We fixin’ to find a mothafucka.”

 
     
     

     

Eleven
     
     
    G rant Miller fielded a multitude of questions since the world started coming down around them all that day. What did it feel like being in the middle of something like this? They all knew the protocol, but, when it happened, was it different? What did he remember about it all?
    After two solid years of being shunned, the