They were coming for him.
At first, Nicholas Cutter could only see their shadows flitting behind buildings in the distance. Then he could feel their bullets thwacking into the walls around him. Finally, he could see them — men with AKs and rocket-propelled grenades. Dozens of them. Descending like locusts out of the desert.
They crept closer until he could see a man's face, bearded and caked with dust. Then closer still, and he saw the man's eyes.
Dark eyes. Dark as the gun he raised. Dark as death.
"Get down!" Nick shouted. He clawed at the cotton shee... full story >>
The man from California who called himself Old School seemed like a legitimate customer because he actually smoked the crack he purchased. That was Earnest Jones' test to make sure he wasn't selling to an informant. "He made quite a few buys from me," says Jones, who was a street dealer in Terrell in the late '90s, just as the feds were setting their sights on the town.
It wasn't much of a test, as Jones learned later when he found himself in jail in Kaufman County facing U.S. Attorney William McMurrey and Drug Enforcement Administration Special Agent Robert Crawford. They had photo... full story >>
The man eating breakfast certainly looked like Nicholas Cutter. He had the same pale skin. The same shaved head. The same technicolor tattoos peeking from beneath his T-shirt like graffiti on a whitewashed wall.
Yet, from across the kitchen table, his sister Rainy saw a stranger. Once an extroverted older brother, Nick was now buried inside himself. His goofy, jack-o'-lantern grin had hardened into a grimace. His eyes were clouded, as if the former soldier were still lost in an Iraqi sandstorm. He sat shoveling cereal into his mouth, staring into the past — into the perpetual ... full story >>
Lars Ulrich is not a scary man. He is short, Danish, and gabby. He often wears gym shorts onstage. But at the Fillmore that night, Lars Ulrich wasn't the one making threats. He was just delivering them.
"If you fuck with him, he will beat your ass," the short drummer squawked.
This was a guest-filled Metallica 30th anniversary concert, so there were plenty of characters around capable of beating most anyone's ass if they felt fucked with. But everyone in the crowd seemed to pretty much know who Ulrich was talking about. He was coming on next. And even if they were deeply unh... full story >>