Dutty Blade

By T.D. Bent

In the deep roots of Kingston Jamaica, violence and drugs roam the streets. A young boy has become a victim of the struggles of the streets after witnessing the murder of his father at the hands of the number one drug lord in Jamaica. After two years, the young boy, Desmond Mcrae, has been training unde

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.D Bent INC
• Release date: Feb 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798218111021

T.D. Bent

company while finalizing Ranshio. His interests include reading various action and drama novels along with watching animated shows during his spare time. What drives Terry to keep writing is the love and support from his family and friends. He wanted to write a story he could share, a story that would make people smile and laugh, a story that can be enjoyed for years to come.

Book preview

Prologue

Jamaica, a tropical island in the Caribbean Sea where most people go to escape the hardships life has to offer. The sound of music filling the atmosphere, the smell of high grade in the morning, some may call this island paradise. However, beneath all the joy and laughter, there’s a side of Jamaica that most people aren’t aware of. War ravages the island as the Jamaican government fails to keep the people safe. My name is Desmond Mcrae, and I am a victim of this ongoing war. Numerous times I have watched gangs roam the streets of Kingston, raping and killing innocents. My father, Lloyd Mcrae, was murdered by a gang lord named Slim Don. I witnessed this at the early age of eleven.

Four years later, I now fight this war alone, trained by the former assassin Chin Yun Wei. I take to the streets of Kingston with my father’s machete in hand. His teachings have aided me in this fight against Slim Don and his men. My father’s blade has guided me to the hearts of those responsible for his death. All that is left is Slim Don. I stared at the picture that was stuck on my wall, calmly as I sheathed my machete and strapped on my utility gloves.

I allowed my braids to fall over my forehead, covering my face slightly as I placed my black hood over my head. The jacket I wore had yellow stripes on the side of both arms and a green zipper in the middle. After my latest rounds of information that I had obtained from Slim Don’s now-deceased men, I’ve finally learned the whereabouts of the main facility where Slim operates. I’ve waited four long years for this moment, tonight must go exactly as planned.

CHAPTER ONE: THE OPERATION

Desmond arrived at the old, abandoned mining facility that was set an hour away from the city. He approached the building with caution as his motorcycle decelerated slowly. He could see the sentries armed with ak-47s patrolling the entrance nonchalantly as he parked his motorcycle by a nearby bush and took cover. Stealth is key to the success of this mission, something that Desmond has come to learn through the many vigorous training methods Mr. Chin offered him. The very thought of the training disturbed him as he quickly shook his head and began focusing on his surroundings. He noticed the concrete wall that enclosed the facility with the gated fence in the center. The wall seemed to be within my ability to scale, I could easily climb over the wall without having to worry about the lookouts. He thought.

Then again, if I take out the lookouts now that will be fewer men I would have to deal with later if I were to be discovered. Screw it. He put on a black face mask that covered his mouth up to the bridge of his nose. His feet began moving swiftly through the bushes while not making a sound. He reached for two shuriken inside his back pouch, and he launched them at the two lookouts while leaping onto the concrete wall. The shuriken flew straight into the throat of the two lookouts as blood spurted out of their necks instantly.

Desmond proceeded towards the facility while sticking to the shadows, launching shuriken after shuriken at the nearby gang members until the coast was clear to enter the main door. Once inside he decided to take the higher ground by climbing up the ceiling pipes. He could hear voices of Jamaicans talking patois with a thick accent. He shifted his gaze downwards and saw bags of cocaine and marijuana being bundled up and placed on top of numerous crates that were scattered throughout the building.

Hurry up with that shit eh, we have to finish packing up the shipment and move them to the boat, said a gang member. He wore a military camo hat, dark shades, a black undershirt, and straight blue jeans. He held the ak-47 closely against his abdomen as he continued to walk around the parameter observing the work of his men. Desmond's eyes shifted back and forth for signs of Slim’s whereabouts to no avail. Damn, he isn’t here, he thought as he observed the movement of the gangsters.

He began pondering an effective strategy for taking out these gang members one by one without drawing any attention to himself. He watched as a member walked behind a large wooden crate to drop off some supplies. He quickly descended from the ceiling with the end of his Kunai pointed downwards.

"Pussy—" the gangster murmured just before Desmond’s blade pierced through his back with blood gushing outward. With haste, Desmond withdrew the blade and made his way toward his next victim. He could see the gangster approaching the wooden crates from his left as he quickly planted his back against the crate.

"Hold on there, ah who that?" The Gangster questioned as he approached the shadows. A severe chop was delivered to the throat of the gangster as Desmond drove his right knee against the bridge of his nose. In quick haste, Desmond watched the life leave the gangster’s body as he shoved his Kunai straight through his chest cavity.

That’s two… he thought while maneuvering from crate to crate. Things were going according to plan for the most part except for one thing. Slim Don was nowhere to be found. It looks like my intel was wrong… Desmond said calmly while continuing to study his surroundings. He noticed what seemed to be a control room a few meters before him. Some men were patrolling the pathway towards the room, but he managed to quickly dispose of them before slipping through the window.

His eyes scanned the tables that had files covering them. He began to search for anything that might lead to Slim Don’s whereabouts. Shit, he thought where could he be? He suddenly caught a glimpse of a terminal that was left open. Someone must’ve been using this terminal recently... Desmond stated while approaching the monitor screen. He began typing away certain keywords that might provide info on Slim Don’s operation.

Multiple screens popped up with a list of names that were connected to some weird project that was coded with an X. A slight smirk appeared on Desmond’s face as he quickly pulled out his flash drive and inserted it into the terminal. Wherever Slim may be hiding I’m sure this intel will help me track him, he said calmly. Once the files had finished downloading, Desmond placed the flash drive back inside the pouch on the side of his pants and began making his way back to the window.

The sudden sound of the front door opening had halted him in his tracks as he quickly reached for the shuriken holstered inside his back pouch and launched it at the upcoming guard who was completely oblivious to what was transpiring. The blades cycled through the guard’s body, hurdling him back towards the steps that led to the control room.

What, the hell… The guard murmured beneath his breath with his eyes left wide open in shock at what had transpired. Desmond watched as the body began ricocheting off the steps causing the surrounding guards to be on high alert.

Well, there goes the stealth part, Master Chin would be displeased, said Desmond while drawing out two Kunai blades from his side pouches.

Get the intruder! The man in the camo hat shouted while pointing in Desmond’s direction. Multiple guards had their sights locked on Desmond’s position as they unleashed gunfire toward him. It didn’t take long before they all emptied their clips. A few of them believed that the deed had been done.

There’s no way he survived that right? A guard questioned as he lowered his gun. Suddenly, a Kunai impaled the guard’s right shoulder blade causing him to cry out in pain as he looked up to see Desmond descending upon him to finish him off.

Oh shit! the guard beside him shouted seconds before receiving a severe elbow to the right cheek.

This boy right here! One of the guards shouted while charging Desmond. He raised the butt of his Ak-47 to slam it against the young assassin’s head, but instead, received a mighty push kick to the sternum.

Another gangster tried to catch Desmond with a right hook but was instantly caught amid his punch and slammed to the ground with a dislocated shoulder. As each gangster fell, the man with the camo hat faltered. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. His men were being beaten, single-handedly by some hooded kid.

"Raus!" The man in the camo hat shouted as he aimed his gun at Desmond and quickly released a barrage of bullets toward him.

Shit… Desmond stated while tossing some smoke bombs toward the ground causing a black cloud of smoke to enshroud and protect him from direct fire. He then quickly launched a wire Kunai to the ceiling, propelling himself up to buy himself some time to plan his next form of attack.

You think I’m afraid of some boy! The guy in the camo hat shouted as he continued to fire into the black smoke along with the rest of his men.

There’s not that many men left, I should take the remaining ones out and confront the boss alone…, said Desmond. He quickly descended behind a gang member who was too busy firing into the smoke to realize his throat was being slit by Desmond’s Kunai. He then launched two shuriken at two other gang members who were standing a few meters to the right of him. The blades of the shuriken impaled their temples as they both collapsed beside the guy in the camo hat.

Fear struck his heart, and his body froze immediately. He turned to face Desmond who was standing amid the black smoke with his Kunai blades held backhanded within the palm of his hands. The man raised his gun once more to squeeze the trigger, but the clip had run empty. "Bumbaclat…"

Where’s Slim Don? Desmond questioned in a demanding tone.

Oh god, look here boss, I’m not even supposed to be here, I’m just filling in for a friend you hear? The Man replied nervously. Desmond shifted his gaze towards the crate of drugs and then back to the man in the camo hat.

So, you don’t know anything about Slim’s whereabouts? Is that right?

I’m telling you boss; I don’t know nothing!

Fine, guess I don’t have any need for you then, Desmond reached for his shuriken in his back pouch and launched it directly at the man’s forehead, piercing his skull with blood spurting outward. The man fell backward with his hat cascading off his head, landing beside his now still body. The warehouse was cleared out, the last remaining shipment was left unfinished.

Desmond opened one of the crates that were not yet stored on the ship. Inside he found bags of marijuana, cocaine, and a black case. The case had piqued his interest as he proceeded in opening it to reveal its contents. Inside were numerous vials containing some unknown substance that was marked with the letter X. X… Desmond stated under his breath.

Suddenly, the sound of sirens approaching the warehouse echoed throughout the warehouse as the cops began to storm the building. Desmond quickly launched his wire kunai up towards the roof and propelled himself upward. He watched as the cops stormed the facility securing the contents inside the crates and checking the pulses of the men down below.

"Looks like rude bwoy struck again," said the Cop as he looked at the disposed bodies around him.

Who would’ve thought, a Jamaican vigilante, his partner stated with a slight shake of his head. A small smirk appeared on Desmond’s face as he made his way out of the facility. It didn’t take long for him to sneak past the cops guarding the warehouse. In less than two minutes he was already on the road heading to his hideout on his motorcycle. He began reflecting on the past as he was driving through the hills. The death of his father enshrouded his mind.

***

It was two years ago but for Desmond, it feels as though it was just yesterday. His father was a well-known fisherman. People would gather to buy his fish as he approaches the market every Wednesday. He would always chop up the fish with his trusty machete, the same machete Desmond carries sheathed on his back. He would often help his father after school with the sales at the market until one day his father noticed some gang members troubling one of his customers.

He couldn’t bear to watch how they tortured the boy accusing him of stealing from them and claiming that he needs to work for them. That’s just not right, said Desmond’s father as he reached for his machete and marched towards the gang member. You better leave that boy alone! He cried out.

What’s this, what kind of foolishness is this? The gang member on the right stated while turning back to face Desmond’s father.

This doesn’t concern you, sir! The gang member on the left retorted.

Yeah mon, why don’t you go back to selling that shit you call food to the people them, Desmond’s father continued to march onward as the gang members quickly drew out their guns. What happened boss, you deaf?

"Guns…you must think you a real badman…" Desmond’s father stated while continuing his walk towards them.

Father, stop! Desmond cried out. He watched as his father walked up to the gang members while placing his forehead against the end of the barrel of the nine-millimeter handgun that was clenched tightly within the gang member’s right hand.

Make your move, said Desmond’s father.

Your funeral, the gang member responded, just as he was about to pull the trigger, Desmond’s father moved his head to the right and instantly chopped off the gang member’s right arm which held the pistol. He then swung his blade low against the knees of the other gang member, dismembering his right leg from the kneecap.

Both gang members cried out in pain as they covered their wounds and fell to the ground. Desmond stared in awe at his father standing over the gang members with a stern gaze weighing down on them. Still, even though he witnessed his father’s victory, he felt a surge of uneasiness hitting the pit of his stomach.

Desmond, Desmond! The sudden voice of his mentor had stripped him away from deep thought. Desmond had already made it back to his base of operations where his mentor, Master Chin Yun Wei, lived. Master Chin was a former assassin trained in the art of Shadousutairu, Shadow Style. He now lives in Jamaica running a local Chinese restaurant in Kingston. Did you listen to a single word I was saying?

Forgive me, master, I was distracted, Desmond replied while brushing his hood back and pulling down his mask. He watched as his master began slapping his forehead with his right hand.

This was supposed to be a stealth mission, get in then get out. Instead, you end up leaving a trail of bodies behind yet again! Master Chin turned towards the TV and pointed you’re even on breaking news! Now my show is interrupted because your shit is all over the television!

I see that you’re a little upset master, but I didn’t leave the warehouse empty-handed, Desmond approached the computer set on top of the desk next to the T.V. and inserted the flash drive inside. Multiple files from before had popped up as he began scanning through them. Take a look at this master, this drive goes into full detail about Slim’s entire operation.

Oh, I see, so that makes up for the mass mayhem, Master Chin mocked causing Desmond to stare back at him blankly.

"My sources were wrong when I went to the warehouse Slim was nowhere to be found. Judging from what’s on the flash drive, it looks like he left the country and moved his operation to a foreign country, in Miami," said Desmond.

Miami…so he’s trying to make it big time, Master Chin stated while peering at the computer screen what is this project X?

This, Desmond lifted the vial before Master Chin which caused his eyes to widen suddenly.

A new drug, he said finally.

"It looks that way, if I’m to have any hope of getting revenge for my father, I will need to make my way to foreign and figure out Slim’s true end game, Desmond began pulling up four different profiles that showed Slim’s top generals these men are going to lead me straight to Slim, each one of them was there when my father was murdered by the so-called badman."

Very well, lucky for you I know some friends that owe me a favor. We’ll get you a student visa and have you catch the next plane out, said Master Chin. He began walking towards a giant ancient chest that had a dragon design embedded at the ridges of it. He opened the chest and reached inside. This should aid you on your journey, he said while drawing out a black bow that he used to wield back when he worked as an assassin. Desmond took hold of the bow, admiring the aesthetic designs and features.

You have your father’s machete, and now, you have your master’s bow. You are now ready young one, said Master Chin. Desmond proceeded to kneel before his master with his right fist planted against the ground.

Thank you, master, I promise I won’t fail you, said Desmond.

CHAPTER TWO: FOREIGN

The flight to the United States was a rather bumpy ride for Desmond. This was the first time he has ever flown or even traveled outside of Jamaica. Most of his equipment was shipped ahead by his master so the only luggage he had was his carry-on and his backpack. It didn’t take long after landing for him to make his way through customs. There were multiple lines with guards standing behind screened glass windows shouting next.

Hey, are you deaf, next! One of the guards shouted towards Desmond. The young boy approaches the guard while handing him over his I.D. that was created by Master Chin. The guard stares down suspiciously at the I.D. and then back at the boy. Desmond felt anxious immediately as he started to laugh awkwardly.

What? He finally questioned. I’m Greg Shields!

All right then Mr. Shields. State your purpose here in America.

School sir,

And you’re not bringing anything foreign with you right, ackee, yam, anything like that?

No sir, just my clothes and some tools,

What kind of tools?

Art tools sir, I like to create art.

I see, the guard quickly placed all the paperwork inside a file then stamped it, you’re free to go, next! Desmond quickly gathered his I.D. and walked towards baggage claim which led to the exit of the airport. He reflected on the words his master had told him just before boarding the plane.

Master Chin had a granddaughter that lived in Miami and was attending Miami University. She was supposed to pick Desmond up at the airport and take him in for the time being. As Desmond was going down the escalator, he began scanning the airport for Master Chin’s daughter. He reached for the picture his master gave him and began studying it while taking slight glances around. Finally, his eyes caught glimpse of a young beautiful Asian woman with long black hair that was caught