he Short Memoir of Mr. Bojanga
By Michael Lachnicht
The Short Memoir of Mr. Bojanga: A Prelude to The Times of Mr. Bojanga
Dawn 1960- NY City, New York
The letters scrawled down the sign as he stepped from the plane to the ground. It seemed the air shook in his wake. The gates opened barely allowing his frame through them. Andrew
, the NYA (New York Airport) Security officer, watched the wide figure emerge from gate 211. Lutyins hand hesitated on his Browning Automatic in his holster. The figure was an enigma of a
real man. The man was solidly built and his name tag said D. Bojanga. The figure asked what was wrong with Lutyins with a growl for a voice.
“I am afraid of you sir,” Lutyins answered with fear forming in each word. The man faced Lutyins and stared him down with eyes as blue as ice. Those eyes froze Lutyins on the
spot. Just as quick as he looked the man was walking down the hall to the exit.
1:30 P.M.- Urban Trails Bar, NY City, New York
Bojanga stood at the end of the bar looking through the clouds of smoke. Wavering figures filled his view as he spotted Darius, his contact into the New
York Arms Association. The arms dealer sat smoking a Cuban cigar as Bojanga walked toward the empty chair.
“Well Darius, you called me to this little shit of a place for what?” asked Bojanga. Darius took a drag on the cigar. He blew out. Bojanga waited for his contact to
“To discuss this deal about to go down,” Darius paused “these kids from China United Arms Dealers are tough cookies, especially The
Spooks Tyndareus Hoods.” Bojanga cringed at the name Tyndareus Hoods, he use to run guns with Tyndareus and Moka, the leaders of the gang. The door opened and in popped Spider Lonta. Spider walked
towards the pair.
“Eh, what is with these two?” he said in a hoarse voice. In Spider Lonta’s left hand was a beer and in his right was a knife. The three went to the dock bay door out of the
2:45 P.M.- Dock, NY City, New York
The air smelled of salt and dead fish guts. Blackie Tricks and his brother White Moka Chi were sitting in their armed boat. Two NYPD boats floated past. Blackie handed his brother a trigger
stud. The two sat assembling the guns that were for sale. A fish lazily floated near the boat. Blackie stared, annoyed at the fish. He pulled out his .22 Chinese Uzi and fired at the fish. There
was a flash and then the fish was nothing.
“To easy brother,” said Blackie Tricks.
2:55 P.M.- UCH Armament Comp. Warehouse, NY City, New York
When they got to the UCH (United Chair Holders’) Armament Company Warehouse/Division of Assault Weapons it was already 2:55. Bojanga handed over a cell phone to Darius. Darius entered the
number to Gold Maran, owner of the UCH.
“Hello, this is Gold Maran, what do you need?” asked Maran.
“It’s me,” answered Darius “it’s time Maran shall I open the vault?”
“So be it open the damn vault but leave me out of this deal!!” answered Maran. The phone beeped and Darius knew the phone on the other end had been hung up. Darius went to the
graffiti ridden door to the warehouse. He punched in the code and stepped back as the door popped open. The reek of age filled Bojanga and Darius’ noses. The two stepped into the dank blackness of
the warehouse. Darius stumbled forward and found the light switch. He flipped on the light and the gleam of thousands’ of guns blinded them.
3:00 P.M.- Rectors Department Of Registered Weapons, NY City, New York
Captain Herot Dastard sat in the Rectory Department with Chief Rector Dagger Twotone.
“This whole fucking city is corrupt, shit it’s falling apart and no one gives a damn,” said Dagger as the two sat looking out the windows.
“Hell Dagger I tell you the more we dig in the more we lose are minds here,” responded Herot. The two looked at the wind swept city streets of New York.
“Herot, the whole gun sales crime rate is up! What are we gonna do about this?” Dagger asked in a scared voice. Herot just sighed.
3:25 P.M.- Lt. Fangtooths’ Motorboat. NY City Bay, New York
Lt. Fangtooth looked out at the small vessel near the dock. His binoculars spotted Blackie and Moka Tricks on their vessel. Fangtooth knew something was going down with The TRI-Force Triads,
since that’s the only time the two brothers where ever on their boat.
3:30 P.M.- Dock, NY City, New York
The boat bobbed with the wakes of the passing boats. Blackie was sitting hunched over the pieces of a .08 Auto-Rifle. Another wake hit the boat. Moka was
looking off in the distance with his .45 Magnum G7 in his hand. They both knew that the police were watching. They also knew that their contact was on his way with company. A van drove down towards
the dock and parked. A silver haired young man and a beast of a man stepped out. The giant walked towards the two.
“Eh you two done yet?,” he asked in a gruff voice.
“Do we know you?” asked Moka training his G7 at the giant. The white haired man walked closer towards the two.
“Gold sent me, I’m Darius and this is Bojanga,” Darius said. The two crooks in the boat look ashamed to me thought Bojanga.
4:00 P.M.- Country Jail, New Jersey home of Tyndareus leader of Spook Tyndareus Hoods, The Country
of New Jersey Heights, New Jersey
New Jersey as a country wasn’t like it was as a state. It was run by the Chinese Arm Dealers League. On this day Tyndareus was in the Country Penitentiary awaiting arraignment on the charge
of illegally killing a rival. In the country of New Jersey you had to register a hit before you can kill anyone. News played out on the TV. Tyndareus’ cousin Hornback Harris stepped through the
“Word’s spreading out that the UCH is stepping into our turf,” replied Hornback. The two sat silently for a second.
“Who’s backing them?” asked Tyndareus.
“Gold Maran,” answered Hornback.
“Go pay him a visit bring Mopsy and Sudders with you,” Tyndareus answered him. Hornback got up and left the room. Tyndareus got up and went back to his cell to
think of what his cousins said. Outside his cell, the jail was a bustle with news.
4:30 P.M.- Route 21 on the way to Marans’ House, in between Country of New Jersey and New York City
Sudders Stantin sat in the driver’s seat, beside him sat Mopsy Boman and in the back was sitting Hornback with his .45 Auto-Handgun. The car was making good time. They made
it to the office of UCH owner Gold Maran within half an hour. The door pulled up to a brownstone in lower New York. Sudders, Mopsy and Hornback got out of the car. All three men had a gun. Hornback
knocked on the door. The door opened and Gold Maran stood in the door.
“Oh hello there,” Maran said. Sudders pulled out his .50 Cal-Auto Rifle and aimed it at Marans’ chest.
“Hello, Mr. Maran I’m Hornback Harris me and my cousin have words for you, I hear you and your lap dog Bojanga are stepping into our turf and Mr. Maran we don’t like it one
Hornback said in a low voice.
“Now me and my fellow Tyndareus Hoods here would like it if you rode with us and made a few calls,” Hornback finished. Mopsy and Sudders grabbed Maran and shoved him into the
5:00 P.M.- The Dock Beside The UCH Warehouse, New York
The boat that Darius had ordered was a Chinese Lokas Jetstreamer II. It was a fast boat which was good, it was also very spacious, which was also a good thing. Bojanga brought out the rack
full of guns and unloaded them on the boat. The boat rocked with the waves lapping at it. Darius waited inside the cabin. When all the guns were unloaded Bojanga and Darius went into the
“Let’s get these guns to White Moka Chi and his brother Blackie Tricks,” Bojanga said. Bojanga started the boat. A NYPD drop boat stood anchored five feet away watching. Lt.
Fangtooth and his men watched as the Jetboat flashed out of the docking area of the United Chair Holders Armament Company/Division of Assault Weapons warehouse. The boat was going too fast for
anyone to catch. Lt. Fangtooth watched the Holo-T.V. computers image as he sat.
“Call the Rectory Department, Deputy Sandstone we have a problem,” said Lt. Fangtooth.
4:33 P.M.- Rectory Department/Organized Crime Division and Rectory Department of Registered Weapons, New York
Captain Herot Dastard of Registered Weapons, Deputy Lee Sandavault of Organized Crime, Chief Rector Sanford Smant of Organized Crime, and
Chief Rector Dagger Twotone sat in a circular table discussing the matter at hand.
“Lt. Fangtooth seemed most upset about this Jetstreamer outside the UCH Armament Company/Division of Assault Weapons and personally I can’t blame him the man known as Bojanga is
in town, I think the Rectory Department of Intelligence and Spying should send a person undercover as a buyer,” said Deputy Sandavault.
“And I know who it should be,” said Chief Rector Sanford Smant.
“And who might that be?” asked Captain Herot Dastard.
“I suggest Van Gard,” answered Chief Rector Smant.
“You mean the FBI Agent from Quantico I thought he was in Russia watching the Russian Autonary Army and the KLA (Kolimba Liberation
Army),” said Chief Rector Dagger Twotone.
“No, he landed in New York two days ago and he will be with us in a few hours we will have Lt. Fangtooth watch Bojanga and his Contact in the New York Arms Dealers,” answered
Chief Rector Smant.
4:40 P.M.-Somewhere in the Ocean on a Jetstreamer, New York Harbor
“You sure where almost there?” Darius asked. The boat plowed through the ocean heading towards White Moka Chi and Blackie Tricks’ boat.
“Yes I’m sure we’re almost there,” growled Bojanga as he pulled out his .45 Cal-Auto Pistol and aimed it at Darius. They had two miles left to go to meet the TRI-Force
5:00 P.M.- New York Airport, New York
Two NYPD police vehicles flanked the outer doors. Deputy Tomas Van Smithas walked through the door. He had his vest on because you never know what would happen. Tomas spotted his friend
Andrew Luytin of the NYA Security Department, he also spotted the man he was here to pick up, Special Agent Darren Van Gard. Agent Van Gard was a tall,
thinly structured man with a Van Dyke mustache and a goatee, he wore a finely fitted black suit with a blue tie, and at his side was a .22 Russian Uzi. The two men walked towards each other and met
in the middle.
“Good seeing you my dear boy,” said Van Gard. It had been awhile since the two had met. The two men hugged and walked towards the door.
“Hey, Van Gard how have you been?” asked Luytin as the two walked out the door.
“Just peachy, my dear fellow,” Van Gard said as they walked to the two NYPD police vehicles. The vehicles drove out of the airport and onto County Road 7. The barren hills and
smoking ruins of the old towns of New York rolled by. Van Gard hadn’t been their when the Chinese Yang Tea Feh Terrorists had set up a nuclear bomb that took out half of the old towns and
cities. He was away in the Banks of London and The Republic of Russia. It was only two years ago in 1958. The vehicles sped past the Mutant Quarters, where the Mutants who lived in the
radiated section of the old towns of New York. Once a year the Mutants caravanned into the upper half of New York to buy food for the year and to buy ammunition in case some rowdy militia of the
Soldier of Humanity and God came to rid them from earth. The Mutants lived as outcasts in the huddled daub huts in the barren forests of lower New York. The air still reeked of chemicals and death.
The car breached a hill and the color and lights of upper New York hit them.
“’Tis pretty my dear boy,” said Van Gard. The car went down the hill very fast. They stopped at a gray building with Rectory Department of New York emblazoned on it. They parked
the vehicle in a spot marked NYPD Dept. of Correction Spot AA. The two men stepped out and where accompanied by two more police officers. Deputy Tomas Van Smithas led the way towards the entrance.
A trained sniper was on the roof watching the roads for enemies. The four men walked into the door.
5:00 P.M.-The Ocean outside of New York, New York Harbor
The two boats stop within spitting distance from each other. A boarding plank ran across the boats White Moka Chi and Black Tricks walked across the plank onto the boat. They went to the
bottom of the boat to where the weapons were. Bojanga followed the twins’ down to the gun racks. The tiny bulb splashed the 21 Auto-Ferris/Wheeler twin barreled Assault Rifles aligned in the rack. Behind Bojanga was Darius. Darius flicked a golden lighter, adding to the bulbs light. A low whistle escaped Darius’ lips.
Bojanga lifted one of the .45 American Desert Eagle Series W pistols of the stand and tested their weight in his hand. His eyes were alight as he
shuffled through the weapons. He picked up an Arabian Semi-Auto Assault Rifle and aimed it at the wall.
“We well take these weapons,” Bojanga said in a gruff voice. A siren sounded out in the distance.
5:30 P.M.- Somewhere outside of Jersey South, the Country of New Jersey
The Jetstreamer plowed through the water. Bojanga and Darius sat in the front captain seat. Blackie and White Moka Chi sat
behind them watching the waves. The sirens were farther away. A twin Razor Series II floated a few feet away. Two sailors waved as the ship flashed by. A Department of the Rectory/Criminal Seizure
Division helicopter rumbled high above the boat.
“Damn we got a bogie above us,” Darius said as he pulled he pulled out the Macro-Binoculars and looked at the chopper high above. The twin Magnum
.40 Turrets spun and aimed at the ship. White Moka Chi manned the .45 Auto Turrets in the rear of the boat. The gun spun and the bullets flashed across the helicopter. Smoke roiled from the
helicopter. Three men jumped from the helicopter. All the men had on Rectory issued armor and helmets. The men swam towards the boat, but White Moka Chi shot the men dead as they swam towards the
5:30 P.M.- Rectory Department HQ, New York
Dagger Twotone stood in front the Chief of Rectory Department/Management H.M. Smith, Smith was a gaunt, tall thin man, who wore his
pistol on his left side, and he carried himself as a big man.
“Director Smith we have a heli down in the harbor,” said Dagger. The Directors eyes glazed over.“What
has happened out there Dagger?” Director Smith asked. Dagger sat in silence for awhile.
“It seems Bojanga has hooked up with the TRI-Force Triads,” answered Dagger.
6:00 P.M.-Route 21, The Country of New Jersey
“So Maran are you gonna make those calls or are we gonna make this violent,” asked Hornback Harris. Sudders Stantin aimed the .50
Cal-Auto Rifle at him all the while. Behind the wheel Mopsy Boman sneered. They drove on, in the back Maran looked at the two.
“You might as well kill me,” Maran said as the two watched him. Sudders jammed the gun into his
“Don’t tempt me Mr. Maran,” answered Sudders as his finger itched to pull the trigger. Sudders looked at
Hornback with asking.
“Do you want my friend here to pull the trigger?” Hornback asked Maran.
6:15 P.M.- Country Jail, The Country of New Jersey
No news had come to Tyndareus, leader of the Spook Tyndareus Hoods. News was what passed his days. He sat in the celled Holo-TV room watching the Dr. Dave McHills Show.
Today’s topic was how to keep children out of gangs. The guest speaker was Lo Nate of The Two Ten Triads. He was telling Dr. Dave how when he was a kid he killed his first man. It was a stirring
speech. Tyndareus was about to get up and call to the guards when a news bulletin caught his attention. The bulletin said: “Rectory Dept. of NYPD and FBI in search of the man Bojanga and three others.” Finally some news I can use thought Tyndareus as he pondered this.
6:17 P.M.-10 miles away, The Ocean outside the Country of New Jersey
The jetstreamer kept plowing through the water. Bojanga sat in the captain seat watching the sea foam spraying over the side. Beside him sat a .30 Phantom Magnum, near at hand. The Rectory
Department of N.Y. was right behind them. The ship kept moving. Another heli replaced the one that Moka had downed.
© Copyright 2016 Mike Lachnicht . All rights reserved.