So far so good, Jeffrey thought. Until an ordinary Nissan Maxima pulled up with three black guys, an older gentleman at the wheel and two younger gentlemen. Jeffrey watched as they all peered down the alley in his direction.
Are they looking at me? he thought. “What are you monkeys looking at?” he said out loud to himself.
The two passengers continually looked around. There seemed to be a lot of commotion going on in the small car so early in the morning. He thought they were about to have some action. Jeffrey was just about to radio for backup when the two passengers exited the vehicle and walked in the opposite direction of his armored car. He figured they were going inside the casino to gamble. When the driver backed his car up and drove off, he knew he had been reaching for straws.
He laughed out loud. “What an idiot I am.”
At approximately 7:50 a.m., Michael and Elizabeth were safely inside the truck and on their way to their next drop-off location. The Wynn Hotel and Casino was just minutes up the strip.
***
Luther peeled away from the side entrance of the casino right on time. He peered down at his watch and knew that soon Honey and her girls would be approaching the Bellagio. They all had strict instructions to not use cell phones. Otherwise, he would have called her to tell her how downright obvious Chief and Delano were. They were the most paranoid criminals he’d ever met. He had to scream on them several times to stop looking at the armored car driver. He was so glad his part of the heist was almost complete.
***
Chief and Delano casually walked into Harrah’s Casino and headed toward separate tables, just as planned. Chief hit the baccarat, and Delano found the craps table. Though they’d walked in at almost eight in the morning, the crowded, noisy atmosphere felt more like eleven at night, with slot machines going off every second and little old ladies dropping quarter after quarter, hoping to win big.
Chief passed by Javier and saw him do a slight head nod. He had almost forgotten that Javier’s wife and kids were held hostage. Not that he felt any sympathy, but it was an issue.
Immediately Chief joined in the action. He peered over at the bank and counted at least a million dollars in chips. You had to buy in at one hundred dollars, and the chips ranged from one hundred to one thousand dollars. Chief concluded it would take him less than thirty seconds to dump those chips in his bag and bounce. He was confident that his Aviator shades, fitted baseball cap, and scruffy mustache and beard he’d grown was enough to shield his identity. But, honestly, he didn’t care. He loved living on the edge. Once this heist made the papers, it would take him a matter of days before he began bragging about it back in Brooklyn. What good was getting away with a crime if no one knew you were the one who’d done it? Part of the glory was the bragging. That’s what legends are made of—the backstory.
***
Delano was getting antsy. He felt they needed Big Meech. He’d never done a heist of this magnitude, and with only Chief and the promise of the backup of Javier, someone he’d never broken bread with, had made him more than just a little paranoid. He’d tried to concentrate on the table and not bring too much suspicion on himself until he needed to pull out his gat, but he ended up doing exactly what Honey had warned them not to do—looking up at the cameras and fidgeting.
As he looked around, it appeared that everyone was watching him. Did they all know? Had Javier dropped dime? He didn’t have a good feeling at all. What if the lady to his right was undercover? Or the man to his left FBI? It was one thing to get knocked for a robbery—he’d be out in three to five—but kidnapping a woman and her two kids held a life sentence. Was he in too deep?
“Sir, it’s your roll,” the dealer stated to Delano.
Everyone stared impatiently because he was holding up their momentum. Delano rolled.
“Snake eyes. You lose.” The dealer swooped up the dice and the chips.
Delano began to get hot under his collar. Snake eyes? Was that an omen? He looked over and Chief looked cooler than a cucumber. They had less than five minutes to strike, but Delano was feeling squeamish.
Chief didn’t see Delano coming, but when he tapped him on the shoulder, he wanted to shit in his pants. His face turned beet-red from aggravation.“Yo, what are you doing?” Chief whispered through clenched teeth.
“Chief, fam, I’m not feeling this. Something ain’t right.”
“You just nervous because Meech ain’t here. Don’t worry, man, I got you. Just play your part, and we gonna make it outta here paid in full.” Chief turned his back on Delano as to not hear anymore nonsense. He thought that gesture, and pep talk would force him to go back to his station and prepare for the inevitable.
Instead, Delano began to backpedal away from Chief then spun around and almost bolted toward the front door. He wanted to get Luther to go in and talk some sense into Chief.
The blazing hot sun immediately snatched Delano’s breath away after leaving the air conditioning in the luxury casino. His eyes scanned the perimeter, and no longer did he see the FedEx getaway van. Where the fuck is Cinnamon? She knew better than to move the vehicle, he thought. The heist was to jump off any second. He wanted to reach into his knapsack and get on his walkie-talkie, but that would’ve drawn too much attention.
Briskly Delano walked to the left of the driveway and then doubled back and walked right. That’s when it dawned on him that Luther was nowhere around either. How the fuck are we supposed to get away from the scene of the crime without a getaway form of transportation?
Delano’s gut couldn’t figure out what was up, but he knew it wasn’t good. One part of him wanted to take off on foot, maybe hitchhike to the nearest bus station, but the hood in him was calling.
Delano turned right back around and marched back into the casino. Fuck it, he thought. I’d rather go out a soldier than run like a bitch.
***
Chief turned around and all he saw was Delano’s backside making a beeline toward the front door.“Look at this punk muthafucka,” he said underneath his breath.
Chief had two minutes to debate what he was going to do. How could he single-handedly rob the casino? That would be virtually impossible. He thought for a second. It would be difficult but not impossible, he reasoned, because Javier was holding him down. There wouldn’t be any security to stop him, and his getaway driver and distraction were out front counting on him. He could only imagine everyone’s face when he burst out the front door solo, carrying his knapsack full of chips. Honey and Luther would no longer be able to call him a dumb criminal.
He knew he had to set it off. He pulled out his gat and let off one shot in the air. “Nobody fuckin’ move, nobody gets hurt!”
The screams and pandemonium could be heard for blocks. Everyone was being trampled, trying to run for cover.
“Not you my friend!” Chief pushed the gun into the dealer’s side. “Load this muthafucka with chips! Now!”
The petrified dealer did as he was told, his hands moving with accuracy. The last thing he wanted was a bullet in the gut, and the threatening look in the robber’s eyes said that he meant business.
In less than forty seconds Chief had a knapsack with nearly one million dollars of casino chips resting on his back.
“Put the gun down, or we’ll shoot!” Javier screamed, his gun aimed directly at Chief’s head. He and six armed security guards surrounded Chief with automatic weapons.
“Yo, Javier, man, this ain’t part of the plan. Whatchu doin’, homie?”
“I ain’t your homie. Now put down your weapon!”
“You know, if I don’t make it out of here alive, neither does your wife and kids.”
Javier looked perplexed. “I’m not married, muthafucka! And I ain’t got no fuckin’ kids! Now put the gun down! I won’t ask you again!”
Alarms began ringing off in Chief’s head. H
e knew he’d just walked into a trap, but what he couldn’t answer was why, and how many people were involved in setting him up to get knocked or possibly worse.
“Either put down your gat, or I’ll let you go without your head!” Delano had snuck up behind the unsuspecting Javier and had gotten the drop on him. He had yoked Javier up and was using his body as a shield from his security team. “Tell your goons to drop their weapons.”
Javier, now with his life at stake, told his men, “Stand down, goddamnit!” he barked when one security guard seemed like he wanted to be a hero.
Javier was five years away from a full pension and he refused to get murdered and let his greedy sister, his next of kin, reap all his benefits while he rotted in a grave. The casino had insurance, which was enough to make his decision easier.
“Boy, I’ve never been happier to see someone in my life!” Chief screamed. He went around gathering up every guard’s gun and then removing each clip.
Delano then tossed him his knapsack, and Chief loaded his up as well.
“You know we got setup, don’t you?” Delano said, with a firm grip on Javier.
“Yeah! I thought you were one of the muthafuckas who set me up. But you ain’t said nothing but a word. We’re gonna kill each and every one of them, starting with Honey.”
An off-duty Las Vegas metro police officer who had been playing craps just minutes earlier was watching everything unfold and was waiting to make a move on Chief and Delano. The officer had been trained just for situations like this. The first thing he did was secretly send out a text message to his entire list of cop friends telling them to send a SWAT team ASAP, and that he was not joking. He then dialed 911,and whispered into the phone.“Harrah’s Casino is being robbed at gun point. Send help.”
After he left that message, Chief was just about finished loading his knapsack. That was when the officer made his move and sprang into action.“LVPD! Drop your weapons!” he ordered, his police-issued 9mm handgun aimed at Chief and Delano.
Chief panicked, but he didn’t hesitate to fire his gun.
Blaow! Blaow! Blaow!
Chief’s three shots at the officer forced him to take cover.
“Bounce! Go, go, go!” Chief ordered Delano to leave with Javier, while he continued to provide cover for him by firing at the officer, who was ducked down behind the huge craps table. There was so much firepower, an exchange of live rounds being fired that the sounds echoed throughout the casino. Harrah’s looked like a kill zone so many people were down.
“Don’t crap out, muthafucka. Police bleed red just like I do. Don’t be a fuckin’ hero.” Chief then fired more shots as Delano and Javier made their way out of the casino.
The officer spoke into his cell phone, “Hello, hello. Yeah, this is off-duty officer Mike Fox. I’m calling from inside Harrah’s Casino. We got a robbery in progress, multiple shots fired, a possible hostage situation. Two armed black male perps both dark-skin and both approximately six feet tall and two hundred pounds wearing dark-colored athletic wear. One has braids, and the other is bald. Send SWAT and send every unit you have. And get a bus over here right away as there may be gunshot victims.”
He then peered around the craps table and saw Delano and Chief making their escape. There was a rising sense of panic, but he had to do what he had to do to stop them. He started to give chase. He had one clear shot at the suspects, but he had to hold his fire because there were too many innocent bystanders in the casino who could have been harmed by his bullets. He also knew that Delano had a hostage, so he really had to be careful.
Once again Chief peered out his peripheral vision and noticed the cop was still in pursuit. “Blaow! Blaow! Blaow!—” Chief let off a succession of gunshots. An innocent bystander took one in the gut. The avid poker player looked down and touched his belly. It felt like a bowl of jelly as his insides spilled out. The sheer terror at the realization of having been shot caused the wounded man to faint. He was a pitiful sight.
In a matter of minutes, if not seconds, every cop in Las Vegas and all of the surroundings counties would be arriving to give him assistance.
***
Las Vegas, Nevada was a busy, crowded city. A perfect storm of distractions to keep authorities baffled while executing the crime of the century. Honey sat listening to the police scanner. It was just six past eight in the morning. So far, nothing. She almost thought that her meticulous plan had a flaw.
Then she heard, “Attention all cars! Attention all cars! We got a possible two-eleven in progress. Multiple shots fired at Harrah’s Casino! We need all units to head to Harrah’s Casino. Two armed black male perps, both dark-skinned and approximately six feet tall and weighing two hundred pounds. One perp has braids, and one is bald. Perps may have one hostage. Be on the lookout for off-duty officer Mike Fox, who is on location and pursuing the two perps.”
“Let’s do it,” Honey demanded.
Honey and Mercedes jumped on separate lime-green and black Ducati motorcycles, while Tee-Tee, Blythe, and Party piled into a late-model Toyota Camry. The girls all jumped on Interstate 15, headed toward the Bellagio Hotel and Casino just as planned.
“How’s everyone feeling this morning?” Honey asked, testing the Bluetooth’s.
Mercedes came in loud and clear. “I’m ready for action.”
“Good to hear. What about you, Tee-Tee? You good?”
“I’m better than ever, Honey. Will be even better in a couple hours.”
“I know that’s right,” Honey replied.
Honey’s heart was pounding as she neared the Bellagio, dressed in an all-black jumpsuit, money colored green bandana tied around her left arm, black gloves, and black helmet. So much was at stake. She was responsible for so many lives, and one false move could cost everyone everything.
***
The Brinks security truck backed into the loading dock of the Bellagio Hotel, the siren sounding a warning for all those in the way to move. Slowly, the skilled driver came to a complete stop. Jamal jumped out of the passenger’s side door and made his way to the back. Today was his second week on the job, and so far, so good. He was working with a skilled team that had taken its time in showing him the ropes.
At twenty-two years old, he wanted to finish college and get a job as an engineer. But when his high school sweetheart had turned up pregnant, he had to drop out of college and grab a job to help make ends meet. His plan was to re-enroll next semester for night classes.
Jamal tapped on the glass. “All clear!” he said.
His partner opened up without trepidation. He was a twenty-year armored car veteran, and he was only forty-one.
As the unsuspecting Jamal began to unload their truck, Mercedes yelled in her thick Mexican accent, “Don’t move, muthafucka!”
Her accent alone is intimidating, Honey thought.
When the veteran guard turned around to face Mercedes with his hands held up high, she immediately recognized his face. Mercedes knew she was supposed to put one in his dome, but this was the same guy she had seen with Honey just a few nights earlier. Was there a mistake? Were her eyes playing tricks on her? So many thoughts were running through her head, leaving her confused. What if she took the shot and wasn’t supposed to? What if something crazy had happened to put this guy in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did Honey know her lover worked for Brinks?
Honey’s TEC-9 exploded. Blaow!
When Mercedes didn’t take the shot, Honey realized that she must’ve recognized Brian from the other night. Honey knew to always go with her gut. She thought that Mercedes had gotten a good look at Brian but tried to tell herself differently.
Both women watched as his body hit the hot, dirty pavement like a sack of potatoes.
“Set it off!” Honey screamed, and each girl began putting in work.
Party instantly took out the driv
er with a deadly shot to the right side of his neck. Blood squirted out the hole, and he let out an agonizing scream. He tried to reach for his pistol, but she put one in his left temple with the accuracy of a skilled marksman.
Mercedes didn’t want to be left out. When the third guard, Jamal, dropped down to his knees in surrender, she didn’t have a choice. She knew they couldn’t leave any witnesses. She put one shot in the back of his head and then looked to Honey, who gave her a quick nod of approval.
The stragglers and employees began scattering and running for cover. Everyone ran away from the casino, hoping to not get hit by any stray bullets.
Honey saw a few familiar faces, but only one lingered longer than necessary. Rosie from housekeeping. For some odd reason she glared in Honey’s direction. Honey had two seconds to react. She adjusted her stiff neck from side to side and then lifted her TEC-9, but Rosie took off, wobbling down the block. Honey could have taken the shot, but inexplicably she didn’t. It was too early in the morning for killing coworkers.
Tee-Tee and Blythe were ordered to hold down the back entrance, while Honey, Mercedes, and Party were moving like robots, unloading the armored car and loading the FedEx minivan that Cinnamon was driving. Simultaneously, they all began grabbing up the heavy bags of dough, each bag weighing at least sixty pounds, and walking them several yards away. The minivan was parked in a blind spot where it wouldn’t be picked up by video surveillance. This process of walking the money to the FedEx minivan cost them valuable time, but it was a necessary maneuver to ensure that the vehicle carrying the dough wouldn’t get tailed.
Cinnamon nervously sat perched behind the helm, her fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight, her pink flesh turned white.
Tee-Tee and Blythe anticipated that at any second a slew of armed guards would come barreling out the back doors. Between the video surveillance cameras, the shots fired, and the screaming bystanders, it was only a matter of moments. All this mayhem had taken a matter of minutes.
Dirty Money Honey Page 10
