American Gan

Chapter 4

Making it to Peru took time, more time than I expected. You never know how much s**t you need until you need to leave the country. Shots, passports, verification. They needed and wanted to know everything but how many hairs were on my head. Colombia was the main producer of illegal cocaine along with Peru, Bolivia, and Chile. All of them provided a significant amount of the drug. It came from the coca plant that grew best in the mountain and jungle areas of these countries. My destination was Peru, flying over South America itself was beautiful. Standing on top of a mountain in Peru was definitely a goal I had never thought of. 

My brother's and I made it to the small laboratories that were scattered throughout the coca-growing areas. The hand-picked leaves were soaked in gasoline and other chemicals to extract the coca base in industrial-sized drums. This was a true process, something I had never seen before. There was no wonder your local drug dealer never made it far because there kitchen based product mixed with Windex and Lysol and who knows what else was a half-assed product. I watched the workers pour the base into brick molds, then the water was pressed out, leaving a hard, easy-to-handle brick containing 50 percent cocaine. 

There it was, sitting right in my hand, a brick worth between 5,000 to 7,000 dollars processed right there in front of me in the jungles of Peru. I know I said South America was beautiful, but this here was gorgeous. The bricks were sent to collection points where they were shipped by boats, the easiest way to get cocaine to the border was the route of the Pacific coast because of a lack of government oversight. You'd think they'd figure out how much product was coming that way but they remained clueless. My cocaine made it to Miami, Florida. Now all I needed to do was get it to the east coast. This was the easiest part. It was a road trip, it was nothing. I was days away from making every dollar I just spent and some.

I had everything set. There was nothing left to do but sell the product. I had already had connections with blue-collar businessmen, and politicians. They couldn't keep it out their nose. Word of mouth took place and I became the go-to guy, there was no other man but me to get this type of product I had. See I didn't water my stuff down, I kept it as pure as I possibly could. And these men could tell, all the different types of drugs they were on the pills they popped in order to keep from going crazy, they knew what was good and what wasn't. We were racking up between 1,000 to 3,000 dollars a day. Not to mention out of town money that was coming in, every other week I was being flown via private jet on their dime just so they could get my product. I was protected by these men. I had half of the Chicago Police Department on payroll. Once I had Chicago in my hands, I took over New York. I already had the government and the Wall Street workers now I just needed the NYPD. 

"I want half." I immediately laughed at the outrageous percentage. I genuinely thought he was joking. But as I came to realize he wasn't. 

"Oh, you're serious!? You're really serious. You want half of the profit that I bring in from MY product. Who the f**k do you think I am? Some nigga of the street. You think I'm peddling bullshit ass cocaine!?" I couldn't believe he had the nerve to ask for half of my earnings. 

"You got some nerve coming in here like you own the place, kid. What are you like 25, you think I'm going to allow you to sell cocaine on MY streets for free. This is America, and ain't s**t free here, get the f**k out my building before I have you arrested." I looked at the chief of the NYPD and frowned he was visibly stressed from a weeks work and I was only making it worse. I paused and took a seat in one of the brown wooden chairs behind me.

He looked up from his paperwork and frowned at me and my lack of following direction, I could tell just how annoyed he was by how hard he clenched his jaw. "I already have half the New York board members with my product up their nose, as well as half of the Wall Street runners. I can have you fired and replaced in 72 hours tops. I don't need your f*****g protection! I'm already protected by much higher people. I just need the rest of your pig pin to know who the f**k I am so they don't bother me while I'm in town making my drops. If you were wise you'll take your 20 precent with a smile and shut the f**k up. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's truly up to you... Sir." I crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair patiently waiting for his response making myself comfortable. I pulled my iPhone from my pocket and placed it on my lap showing him that all I had to do was make one phone call, my gun visibly showing on the side of my hip knowing there was nothing going go to be done.

He paused for longer than he wanted too and let out an angry sigh. He nodded his head in agreement. "Get the hell out my office." 

I smiled and nodded. "I'll be back in town in two weeks with your cut." I slid my phone back into my pocket and stood up smoothing down the front of my black suit. "Good doing business with you, you enjoy your evening, officer... I mean Chief." 

There's was no better feeling than being more powerful than a police officer, backing him into a corner was the highlight of my day. I learned early in life that it was better to be Feared than Loved. I'm sure it's nice to be both, but I know it's very difficult. It's fear that keeps people loyal. Power and money help instill fear. The more people that know you're not the one to mess with the better, being protected by the highest of people was also a plus. Politicians. Politicians were the government, and people feared their government. These were the people I was protected by. I didn't need the police. I was the police. The only thing the pigs could do for me was to not bother me.