10. The Crew
The Crew
“You’re making a mess of it all,” Kevin said, standing in the bathroom doorway.
He looked older than the rest. With tattoos stretching from his chest up to the neck and down his arms, they ranged from abstract to outright bizarre.
Like the one on his chest of a deer smoking a cigar or the lusty woman turning into a snake by the arm.
“Just put the jewels in the bag so we can take them to Lester.”
“I know! I know! It’s just that there’s a lot of stuff here. I’ve been looking for a while, and I can’t find it,” Jason said, holding the bag.
“Where’d you put it, Kevin?” Cameron said, sitting on a chair by the window as he cleaned his gun. “You’ve been doing blow all day in the bathroom instead of helping us out. Cut the shit and put a shirt on. We’re leaving for the meet-up soon; they’re expecting the hard drive we took from APOLLO.”
“Man, shut the hell up. You’re not in charge here.
No one is,” Kevin said, with a hoarseness in his voice.
He’d been celebrating their score all day, drinking and snorting coke like a rockstar; though the trio hadn’t even cashed in the jewelry they'd snatched yet. Cameron had grown weary of Kevin’s antics by now.
The three grew up together as kids, but lately he had been behaving more erratically.
Earlier in the month, he even instigated a shootout, and it was his idea to lock the old man in the safe.
He had become a liability in his eyes. Cameron was the oldest of the three.
And the brains of the operation. A dark contrast to Kevin’s lighter complexion, he was kicked off a college basketball team after an unfortunate incident. His life took a dark turn soon after.
“Did you find it, Jason?” Cameron said to his friend, who was frantically searching through several bags.
“It’s not here!” replied Jason.
“Did you check his jacket? It’s over there on the rack,” Cameron said.
Jason grabbed the jacket and quickly patted all the pockets.
They were all full. Jason reached into one pocket after another and pulled out illicit substances.
Kevin had bought the seller’s entire stock, it seemed.
Finally, Jason reached into an interior pocket and found it.
“Got it!” Jason said, holding onto a blood-red and black hard drive with the word APOLLO written on its side.
“Good. Put it in the bag and get ready; we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” Cameron said.
“We’ll be eating real good soon!” Kevin yelled. “You know what I’m saying, son?”
Cameron shook his head. And Jason let out a laugh.
They all looked happy. But deep-down Cameron could tell something was off; he looked lost, in deep thought, while cleaning his gun.
It needed to be perfect for the coming meet up with a buyer they’d never met before.
A foreigner who offered a mighty sum for their services.
“Want to go over the plan one more time?” Jason said, sheepishly.
Jason was the youngest of the three friends; and perhaps this is why Cameron thought of him like a little brother.
The two had grown really close since the passing of his grandmother, who raised him in a tiny shack of a house just down the street from Cameron’s childhood home.
The two had spent years struggling, working odd jobs, running afoul of the law, but today was different.
They’d finally made it to the big leagues; or so he kept saying.
“Not again! Come on man!” Kevin said, pulling his gun from the waistband. “This shit is simple. We go to the place. Give them the bag. Take the cash. And dip.”
He waved the gun around like a lunatic and took a sip of gin; then turned to Cameron, pointed his gun at him, and said, “and if they don’t. Pow!”
Cameron launched from the chair, his teeth clenched, and his grip tightened. Kevin put the gun back in his waistband and took another sip of gin.
“I’m tired of your shit, Kevin. You need to watch out,” Cameron said, standing behind Jason.
The two had a history of fights going back to their teens, but they always squashed their issues and mended their friendship.
Nothing had changed since then. Kevin always knew how to get under Cameron’s skin like a tick; it drove him crazy.
“I’m good baby. It’s ALL good,” Kevin said, with a laugh. He grabbed an old shirt and put it on. “Let’s go. We got some paper to make boy!”
“Man!” Cameron said, writing him off. Jason quickly began to grab all the jewelry, hundreds of pieces, off the bed and began stuffing it in a bag. “That Arab better have the cash on him.”
“Exactly! Otherwise. Pop!” Kevin said, his laugh trailing off.
“Where do we put this? Where can we hide it?” Jason said, filling up two duffel bags.
“We can’t leave it here. That old maid will come in and snatch it,” Kevin said. “I got a better idea. Put the drive in one and let me handle it.”
“That’s a bad idea,” Cameron said, grabbing one of the bags.
“Trust me, baby. I know what I’m doing,” Kevin said. Jason and Cameron looked at each other with great worry.
“We’ll leave it in the van,” Jason said, grabbing both bags.
“Good idea!” Cameron said, grabbing his gun and tucking it under his shirt.
“You’re both fools!” Kevin said, entering the bathroom. “Go get the van ready then.”
Cameron left the room quietly and cautiously.
He looked around the parking lot for anything that might be amiss.
Ever since the shooting during the last heist, his nerves had been fried; he saw looming shadows everywhere.
Undercover cops trailing him. And cameras suddenly became a poison that made him shrug and whither.
But after today, there would be no need to hide anymore.
No need to steal anymore. He and his friends wouldn’t have to run anymore.
Today would be the day when everything changed for the better.