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March 18th, 1997
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"Big Dave, my man, how you doin t-a-day?" The blackman to whom the sentence was addressed went stiff before slowly raising his hands and turning. He was as broad in the shoulders as some men were tall and the golden chain about his neck looked as if it might choke him to death if he put on any more neck muscle.

He regarded the two police officer who stood before him with barely concealed caution. He knew damn well that when the two cops appeared, trouble soon followed for some ganger somewhere. While he might not like cops, the two had never been anything but decent to him save for the one time they'd beat the wheels off him when he resisted arrest.

"Yo Mr. T and the Commandant in the house! How long you in town for?" There were not many cops that "Big Dave" feared but these two were at the top. The Gang Enforcement Unit didn't hire run of the mill boys, they brought in the toughest mother fuckers out there. They needed to be in the 7-7. 

"Long enough." Mr. T replied. His real name was Johnny Mack, so named for the make of the truck he sometimes seemed to resemble. At 6'7 and nearing 300 pounds, he was a promising NFL draft pick when he'd left it all to be a cop. He'd been partnered up with Patrick Chappel four years earlier and the two made a hell of a pair, driving a GMC Suburban just so they didn't bottom out on curbs. "What's the goods down here today?"

Mack did most of the talking, Big Dave had noticed that right away, the white dude, while smaller, was the more dangerous of the two. He always looked at you like you were prey and the stories they'd heard about him from his army days in Africa, well, the dude was fucking scary shit.

"Word is some gangers is lookin to make a play for some turf in the next coupla days." Big Dave was a small time drug mover, running a legitimate video rental business as well. He had even gone to College for a couple of years before dropping out and returning home. His store had an unofficial truce in place between rival gangs, all of whom kept on eye on their boys in order to keep the new flicks rolling in, cheap. Every video in the store was stolen but the boys in blue tended to look the other way if he tossed them the odd tidbit of useful info.

"Big play?" Mack asked. He was standing with his hands on his hips, close to his pistol. The Commandant always stood with his feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped just over his mid-section, eyes never ceasing to move, head on a swivel. Big Dave had heard the stories about how a couple gangers had tried to kill the man by jumping him with knives. He'd fought them both off with his baton and fists. Neither ganger one would ever eat without the help of a straw again. 

"Yea, reckon there will be some dead'uns." Big Dave glanced around the store. It was early afternoon and no one else was around yet. The two cops were in plain clothes and their black unmarked suburban was nowhere to be seen. "Yo, I like the chin fuzz, white boy." 

The Commandant was sporting a beard with two long braids out the bottom. Privately, it reminded Big Dave of a Viking warrior. The white man's face split into a broad smile and Big Dave couldn't help but smile back. The fellow was always polite until you pushed him.

"Aye, cheers bru. Decided to give it a go and I think it 'as ta'ned out aight. You been wo'king out? You look fit my bru." The mans accent always made Big Dave want to chuckle since it just sounded damn strange. But one did not laugh at the Commandant, the man had a long memory. 

"I've been hitting the iron, yea." Big Dave was flattered the cop had noticed. He had been working out hard for the last few years in order to compete in a Mr Olympia competition.  

"I reckon you 'ave got a chance. Good luck." The Commandant flashed another smile even as he snapped his gaze toward the parking lot outside. "Customers. We'll scarper. Thanks Big D."

The two cops nodded and quietly vanished into the rear of the store where Big Dave knew they would let themselves out the backdoor once the coast was clear. It was weird, liking two cops, but they were always decent to him. Maybe he'd invite them for a beer, or a brew as the Commandant put it, one day. He wondered if they'd say yes.