CHAPTER EIGHT
The next night
Tyson was dressed in all black from head to toe standing over the dining room table, screwing silencers on the ends of his .45 automatics. Scattered upon the table top was a box of bullets, a couple of grenades, and a blueprint of The Sheridan complex that he procured himself the night before. Malakai was a hot boy in them streets, so it was easy for him to get the information he required on his whereabouts. He paid the right people, and they gave him exactly what he wanted. He took what he was given and decided to make a move. Tyson had gotten dressed up like a crack head and made it down inside of the basement of The Sheridan where he stole the blueprint of the building. He was surprised at how easy he was able to slip in and slip out undetected. Not only w
