6. Global “Dice” Jamerson #2
Greg knew nothing about my ability to sling a motorcycle. To his knowledge… I drove a damn Altima. Nothing against it, but I loved me a big boy Jeep, or one of my bikes. This other shit was not for me.
“Where you headed?” he asked.
“I gotta stop by the crash pad and finish packing. I still need to iron my uniform, make sure my luggage is under the weight limit, and grab a couple things from the store. Once I board that plane tomorrow, I’ll be gone for a minute, and you know I hate trying to remember shit at the last minute.”
Now that I knew the truck’s first stop, it was time for me to shake and make sure everyone could get in place within hours. I had to let G.O.R. know exactly where to stage.
“Dang, I’ma miss you, baby. When will you be back in the Big Apple?”
“Is that right?”
“You already know.”
“I don’t know. But I won’t stay away from you long.” I lied. I was over this gig with him, and now that I know his lick game, even the head wasn’t worth it. I would pick a new John before I kept faking it with Greg.
I turned around and looked at him and his beautiful face before leaning over to kiss his cheek. Judging by the way his lips puckered, I was almost certain he thought I was aiming for his mouth.
“See you soon, love.”
I left him standing in the bathroom and walked toward the front of the house to grab my pumps.
“Hol’ up. Let me give you something.”
I turned around and waited. Turning down free money had never been one of my talents.
“Well, ain’t you sweet.”
“You already know I got you.”
“Mm-hmm.”
That was all I could offer because what exactly was I supposed to say? I'd only known this negro for two months, and if his generosity matched the way he'd been treated the kitty. I almost felt bad about what was coming.
Almost.
He grabbed his phone, and it wasn't long before mine chimed.
$200 Received
“I wish I could send more love, but like I told you, I gotta stop by the bank in the morning.”
“It's all good. This is more than enough.”
This was lipstick money, but I’ma let you make it.
I slipped my phone into my purse and smiled one last time… a smile that he would have to file away for memory.
By this time tomorrow, he’d think he was heading to work doing his pick-ups as usual, unaware that a storm was in the forecast.
Let me get the hell out of this man’s house. We had less than twenty-four hours.
“Let me know when you land.”
“Will do. Thank you, Greg.”
Those words held more weight than he could ever imagine as I headed to sit low in this small-ass Altima.
Downtown traffic was thick as hell, which was exactly what I wanted.
Folks were honking, cussing, cutting each other off, and trying to get wherever the hell they were going.
Meanwhile, me and my girls blended right in, cruising these ugly-ass throwaway bikes while staying just far enough behind the armored truck not to raise suspicion.
We’d upgraded our helmets a few months back after one too many jobs went sideways because somebody missed a hand signal or couldn’t hear over the roar of the engines.
Now the three of us could talk to each other clear as day while we rode, which made pulling jobs like this a hell of a lot smoother.
Crow wasn’t patched into our channel, though.
Rebel handled all communication with him through a separate encrypted earpiece tucked beneath her helmet while he worked his tech magic from wherever the hell he decided to hide out.
If Crow had something to say, it came through Rebel first, and that was just how we liked it.
Lord, I missed Badass Bessie. These little bullshit bikes wasn’t doing it for me, and judging by Rebel running her damn mouth through the headset, she felt the same way.
“These ugly ass motors ‘bout to piss me off. I’m a sexy tomboy on my gold, but I look like a damn boy on this smoked-out shit here.”
“Tell me about it. Every time I ride past a building, not seeing my Green Goblin, is making a bitch cringe,” Kash complained.
I laughed.
We’d been stuck riding these throwaway bikes longer than our usual jobs because this mission was different.
Every time we went over the plan, it reminded us exactly why folks didn’t fuck with robbing what black folks called The Money Truck.
There were four armed guards. Two riding in the front and two holding down the back.
Bulletproof truck, bulletproof vests, and all packing heat.
Cash bags were chained to the guard once they exited the bank.
Watching Greg get dressed some morning on FaceTime or listening to him brag about being top-flight security had finally paid off because his ass unknowingly gave me every piece of information we needed.
Armored trucks took different routes so that you wouldn’t know the pattern on any given day.
That’s why, most of the time, if one went down, it was labeled an inside job, but all we needed was the location to start, and keeping an eye on them with three skilled robbers on bikes was a breeze.
“Second bank ladies, keep your eyes on the truck.”
“Got it,” Rebel said.
“In sight,” Kash said with a check-in.
“Rebel, hit Crow. Let him know we will be headed to the third bank. That’s when we will make our move.”
“Copy.”
My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, but no fear was in it. The only thing that crossed my mind was making sure we were safe and no one got hurt. We wouldn’t survive another funeral. Rose was enough. Kash had to make it back to her family, and I had to make it back to Revv.
A secret I wasn’t ready to share.
I knew this was a blow-up I wasn’t looking forward to.
“We moving,” Kash’s voice filled the helmet, pulling me back to the moment.
Showtime.
“Pretty as a flower…” I started.
“Solid as concrete,” Kash and Rebel followed up in unison.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ bout.”
“Gear these muthafuckin’ ugly ass bikes up, ladies, we got this,” Kash spoke.
“Let’s ride,” Rebel said, her wild ass was ready for the action.
The truck pulled up to the third bank. One guard exited the truck, his chain loose at his side.
The other one got out to make sure he made it back to the truck safely.
It wasn’t long before he returned with the bag clipped to the chain, and they both climbed back in the rear, where the bread was.
They had been doing this routine since the first stop. I said a quick prayer.
That was it. It was time to make our move.
Rebel got quiet for a second, listening through the earpiece tucked beneath her helmet before she finally spoke.
“Crow is about to change the lights and cut the cameras for a block, ladies.”
That’s what we were waiting to hear.
That was our cue.
I reached inside my jacket and pulled the magnetic breaching charge from the inside pocket before flipping the timer on. Twenty seconds lit up across the screen, and I couldn't even lie—that little countdown had my adrenaline climbing.
I rolled on the throttle and started weaving through traffic until I was sitting right on the truck's ass. Folks were blowing their horns and hanging halfway out their windows like cussing me out was going to make me hit the brakes. They ain't know I had bigger shit on my mind than road rage.
Just like Crow promised, the light ahead turned red, forcing the truck to come to a stop.
Perfect.
I eased in close enough to reach out and slapped the charge dead center on the rear doors where all that money was locked away.
CLICK.
The magnet grabbed instantly.
I peeled back into traffic before anybody inside even realized I'd been there. The countdown kept ticking while the truck sat boxed in by cars with nowhere to go.
Five...
Four...
Three...
Two...
One...
BOOOOOM!
The blast shook the entire intersection, sending glass flying through the air as smoke engulfed the back of the armored truck.
Car alarms blared, people took off running, and drivers jumped out of their cars, trying to figure out what just happened.
New Yorkers didn’t stick around for long, though.
They either got out of the way...or kept moving.
“We got action.”
Rebel and Kash were already moving before the smoke had a chance to settle, rifles trained on the two guards in the front.
“Open the damn door!” Kash yelled.
That left me to handle the two men in the back until the two in the front were tied together. They worked fast, lightning fast, and Rebel was by my side within seconds.
The AR-15 I had pulled from the backpack we all wore was ready to take all headshots. Greg’s whining ass voice was heard from the front and was slightly throwing me the fuck off.
“Shut that bitch ass nigga up!” I yelled.
“My pleasure,” Kash said.
She was with the shits because she hit his ass across the head with the butt of her gun, and he was knocked out cold.
Ugh! And he wondered why he was only on second base.
“I hope yo’ ass didn’t give that nigga none,” Rebel whispered to me, but we were all connected, so Kash heard it.
“I hope not either,” Kash chimed in.
“Picture that. Now, get yo’ ass back here. Looks like we got some brave soldiers.”
The two men in the back were still holding their guns just as steady as me and Rebel held ours, trained on them.
“Well, ain’t they brave?” Kash teased.
She was by our side within seconds. Police sirens could be heard from a distance. Traffic was still thick, so we had a few more minutes added to our time, but not much.
“You bitch ass niggas ready to die over somebody else’s money?” I asked, ready to paint these crackers so we can cut out.
“You ain’t getting on this truck,” the potbelly spoke.
BANG!
Kash shot him in the knee, and he dropped down, still holding on to his gun.
“Last warning.”
“We can’t let yo…”
BANG!
He was cut off because Rebel drilled him in the shoulder. Gang of Roses rarely, if ever, negotiated, but if I shot, it was going between his eyes. Fuck the dumb shit.
Before anyone could speak, the other guard from the back spoke up.