Once the minivan was loaded up, Honey tapped the side, “Go! Go! Go!” and Cinnamon peeled out of the lot.
***
Chief and Delano was almost to the front door when a second set of armed guards came running from the back of the casino. Neither one of these guards was prepared to stand down. Nor did they seem to care that their boss was being used as a shield.
“Freeze! Don’t move, muthafuckas!” one guard yelled.
“Wait! N-n-n-noooo!” Javier yelled.
Delano put one in Javier’s temple. He needed agility if he was going to make it out of there alive.
Immediately Chief pulled out his second gat and began firing both pistols at the army of guards’ bullet for bullet. Though Chief and Delano were outnumbered and outgunned two to seventeen, they weren’t going out without a good fight.
***
Hotel security had made its way to the back of the Bellagio Casino the instant the cameras picked up the heist in progress. Just as the back doors burst open, Honey spun around first and sprayed the walkway with a barrage of bullets from her TEC-9, backing them all up. They all retreated back inside the casino and ran around to the side entrance, which bought Honey and her crew time.
“Tee-Tee, you and Blythe cover the north and south entrances. I’ll remain here and cover the back! You got thirty seconds to get the fuck outta here!” Honey reloaded her clip. Shit was getting thick. She could hear Party telling her through the Bluetooth that she was headed toward the getaway vehicle and would spin around to pickup Tee-Tee and Blythe. Honey ordered Mercedes to bounce.
“But what about you?” Mercedes asked, not wanting to leave Honey alone.
“Don’t worry about me. I need to cover the back until Party picks up Tee-Tee and Blythe. Hurry the fuck up, ladies! The clock is ticking. Y’all got twenty seconds and counting! Mercedes, get your ass outta here! You got two kids, bitch. Move your ass!”
Mercedes hopped on her Ducati, took one last look at her crew, and peeled out. She nearly crashed head-on into a black Range Rover as she sped down Las Vegas Boulevard, her heart palpitating at a hundred beats a second, but she quickly regained control.
***
Once outside Chief realized what Delano already knew—They didn’t have a getaway vehicle. He could hear the faint sound of sirens getting louder. He looked over his shoulder and saw a couple just exiting their vehicle with California plates. They had two teenage girls with them and was unaware that a heist had just taken place. The engine of the shiny Lexus was still running.
“Get the fuck back in the car!” Chief brandished his weapon in the male’s face.
His eyes popped open in horror. “Please don’t hurt us!” he screamed.
“Shut the fuck up!” Chief barked. “Delano, grab the wheel.”
Delano grabbed the wife by the back of her neck and shoved her into the passenger seat, with Chief, the father, and two teenagers crammed in the back.
Before Delano could get behind the wheel of the car, Harrah’s driveway was swarmed with cop cars, SWAT, and now hotel and casino security. It was a scene right out of a movie. Helicopters were hovering over the grounds, and all law enforcement had their weapons drawn.
“Put your faces in the back windows, or I’ll blow your muthafuckin’ brains out!” Chief demanded.
The hostages did as they were told. Immediately, the daughters began crying.
“Shut the fuck up, bitches!” Chief ordered. Beads of perspiration had begun to form around his hairline and randomly drip salty sweat into his eyes. “Y’all better shut up, or I’ll shut you up permanently!”
Instantly the cries turned into soft whimpers.
The father tried to console his girls as best as he could.“Shhhhh! Look at Daddy. It’ll be OK, I promise you. Just be brave.”
With the back window wallpapered with innocent faces, the police chief ordered his men to hold their fire, allowing Delano to get behind the wheel and take off down Las Vegas Boulevard with thirty police vehicles and SWAT tailing, and two helicopters hovering overhead.
***
In the opposite direction of Las Vegas Boulevard, Honey had to make her own getaway. As promised, she held down the back entrance of the casino just waiting for someone to open up the door. She was ready to let off her TEC once again. Checking her peripheral vision, she could see that Party had spun the car around and had safely picked up Blythe, but when she made her way to Tee-Tee, a host of security guards opened fired. Automatic weapons and revolvers let off numerous shots, and Tee-Tee took one for the team.
Doubling over in sheer pain, Tee-Tee clutched her abdomen in an effort to stop the bleeding. Honey ran and jumped on her sleek Ducati and sped over to assist. Blythe jumped out blazing but had to lower her weapon in an effort to drag Tee-Tee in the car.
“Hurry up!” Party yelled, as she opened fired to cover Blythe.
Blythe was moving as fast as she could, but with bullets flying just inches above her head, that task was harder than it looked. Her armpits and hands instantly were drenched in sweat.
Party saw Honey speeding toward them. Honey leaned her bike toward the right and, with the TEC on her left, let out a hail of bullets, injuring several security guards and forcing the others to retreat.
***
Inside, security continued to call for backup.
“Where the fuck is Las Vegas police?” one guard yelled on the walkie-talkie. “We’re getting killed out here!”
There was static and then, “We’ve notified the police, but they’ve been held up over at Harrah’s. There isn’t anyone else on duty. They’re trying to find a car to send over.”
“No cars?” the guard said. “What the fuck you mean? My men are fuckin’ dyin’ out here!”
“Just remain calm. Help is on the way,” the dispatcher said.
***
Finally Honey and her crew were able to make a clean getaway. Honey watched as Party hopped on Interstate 15, while she veered off and took the side streets.
Under an overpass, just minutes from the Bellagio, Honey pulled over, and that’s where she met Luther waiting for her in her vehicle. He’d been listening to the police scanner and was more than thankful when he saw his daughter.
Honey quickly pulled off her motorcycle helmet and stripped out of the one-piece jumpsuit, her Bellagio uniform underneath. Slipping on her heels that were on the passenger’s seat, she said, “Tee-Tee was hit. All others clear. You’re on cleanup patrol. I’ll meet you tonight.”
Luther nodded. He watched Honey make a right and head back to the Bellagio. Within seconds he had torched the bike and went into part three of the plan. Just feet away was a smelly old shopping cart with bottles and cans. He put on the tattered and torn overcoat and simply pushed his cart down E. Flamingo Road and blended in.
***
The streets were now littered with bystanders looking up in the sky. The helicopters were broadcasting live from the Harrah’s heist and had seemingly neglected the Bellagio, just as Honey had planned.
Honey reached the casino at approximately the right time. Two cop cars had finally arrived along with fire trucks and three ambulance vehicles. She slid in just before they began cordoning off the property and not allowing anyone else in. She needed to be seen shortly after the robbery, or her name would’ve been placed on the list of possible suspects.
She ran to her supervisor, Alonzo, “What’s going on?”
“Not now, Honey! The casino’s been fuckin’ hit!” He brushed past her and made his way to the back.
Honey made her way to the back entrance, shoving and pushing her way through pedestrians. There she saw the gruesome scene she’d just taken part in. Three bodies lay dead, cooking in the hot Nevada sun. She looked down at her lover Brian. The married Brian who actually thought he was down with the heist. She w
ondered what his thoughts were once that bullet hit his head. Did he realize that he’d been used, when all along he thought he was using her?
It was Brian who’d approached Honey about the heist last year. She was new to the casino and had mistakenly given herself away when she was at a shooting range and had shot out the mark’s face. When the guy at the range asked how she’d become such a great marksman, she told him she was former ATF.
Only, she didn’t know Brian was in the next booth and had overheard the conversation. The next day, he found her at her blackjack table and began courting her. Right after a night of sweaty sex, he casually brought up the idea. Honey listened. She knew she was only a stepping stone for him. She also knew that, the moment the heist was done, he’d put a bullet in the back of her head and go and spend his dirty money with his wife and kids.
As the coroner pronounced each victim dead on the scene, a white blanket was thrown over each one after their bodies were outlined in chalk. Newscasters and cameras began flooding the area and reporting live from the scene of the crime.
Honey looked around and saw several females crying their eyes out. She wondered if she should cry too. She closed her eyes tight and tried to force out the tears, but nothing came. She then tried to rub her eyes roughly. Still nothing. Finally, she brought out the big guns and thought about her mother, and bingo! A full-on waterfall.
The next thing she knew, she was being comforted by several of her coworkers. Honey had a calculating gaze that convinced people to trust her. A vulnerability mixed with innocence.
“How could something like this happen?” she asked, looking up into several concerned eyes.
“People are so heartless. These men had families,” one coworker said.
“None of us are safe,” Honey replied. “What if we were coming into that back door at the time of the robbery? We could have been killed.”
“You know, Rosie from housekeeping and Jasmine the barmaid said they were there when it all went down.”
“Really?” Honey’s interest was piqued. “What did they say they saw?”
“I don’t know. The police have them now, and they’re being interrogated.”
“I hope they can help the police,” Honey said faintly. “Somebody needs to pay for this.”
***
The chief of police ordered his cars to keep a safe distance of one hundred meters from behind the Lexus filled with hostages until he could speak with the FBI.
Meanwhile, Delano was taking them on a highway chase that would last sixty miles. Inside the vehicle he was chain-smoking the husband’s cigarettes.
“Please just let my children go,” the woman pleaded. “They’re just young girls.” The mother’s anguish could be heard in her voice. “I know you’re a good man. You don’t want to do this.”
Delano pulled his gat from his waist, and with one arm on the steering wheel, he pointed his pistol at one of the daughters in the back. “Say one more muthafuckin’ thing!”
“OK, OK, I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “Please don’t hurt them.”
“You don’t know shit about me, bitch! I will put a bullet in your muthafuckin’ eye and then stick my dick in it!”
Chief couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Delano’s foolishness. But he liked his gangsta. He was letting the couple know that they were ruthless and not to be fucked with.
“New rule,” Chief joined in. “And I’m only gonna say this once—Get it in your heads that we need quiet time to think straight! We got the whole Las Vegas PD on our asses, so if one of y’all muthafuckas opens your mouth to even sneeze, shorty right here”—He pointed toward the youngest daughter—“gets it! I don’t care if you gotta piss. Piss on yourself before you ask some dumb shit like, Can I use the bathroom?”
From that speech Chief knew he’d earned their respect. Now it was time to strategize. “Yo, D, what you thinkin’, man? How we gonna lose those muthafuckas?”
Delano shrugged. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw a procession of law enforcement cars keeping a safe distance. “They ain’t gonna fall back, man. We need a distraction.”
Chief thought quickly and lifted his pistol and blew the father’s brains out. Chaos broke out in the mid-sized car as his brains splattered everywhere.
The husband never saw the hit coming. He’d actually been praying to God for a miracle when Chief had decided to improvise. Chief then leaned over, opened the door, and kicked the father’s body out on the hot pavement. His body bounced a few times and then came to a complete stop, creating a massive collision as each police vehicle tried to avoid running over him.
“One down, three more to go, if y’all don’t stop yelling in my ear!” Chief said.
The daughters hugged each other tight, wishing that this was all a dream.
Delano cut his eyes at the mother. Her body was trembling so violently, it looked like she was going into convulsions. Delano no longer saw the police vehicles following in close proximity, but the helicopters were still hovering. This encouraged him to speed up and really fight to make a getaway. He began weaving in and out of traffic at an unsafe, erratic speed.
“Yo, D, get off this muthafuckin’ highway. Go into the hood where those muthafuckin’ helicopters can’t go!”
“Whatchu mean, Chief? Ain’t no restrictions in the hood. What’s stopping them pilots from following us? Ain’t no stop signs in the sky!”
“Nigga, just do it!”
With nothing to lose and freedom to gain, realizing they were still being followed, Delano found the nearest exit and headed down the ramp. He didn’t know how the day would end, but he knew that he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Chapter 11
The police precinct was deluged with calls regarding the morning’s events. Sergeant David Aponte and first-grade Detective Hernandez had the task of interviewing the two witnesses, while the FBI used one of their conference rooms to look at the video footage from both heists. Never in Las Vegas history had two heists of this magnitude ever been attempted on the same day. The task force was ready to turn the whole zip code upside down if they had to.
“Do you think it’s just a coincidence?” Hernandez asked his boss. “Or could they be the same crew?”
“Right now there’s no need to speculate. Let’s gather facts first and see where that takes us.”
Hernandez nodded, although he didn’t agree. He loved speculation. He could “conspiracy theory” a situation all day and night; it kept his mind sharp.
The officers decided to question Rosie first, in tandem. They could tell that she was still shaken up.
“Would you like some water? Soda? Could we get you anything?” Aponte asked.
“A soda would be nice,” she said weakly. “A Diet Pepsi.”
Both officers looked at the overweight Rosie.
“Sure. Detective Hernandez, could you go and get Ms. Rosie a soda.”
Rosie cleared her throat. “And I am a little hungry. All this violence has given me an appetite.”
Detective Hernandez was slightly annoyed but said nothing.
“What would you like to eat? Would a sandwich be OK? Turkey and cheese or something like that?” Sergeant Aponte asked.
“Didn’t we pass by that Mexican restaurant on our way here? I heard their food is really good. Do you think they deliver?” Rosie suddenly found her voice. Quickly she realized that they had to kiss her ass. They needed her. Usually when her ex-husband or brothers were locked up and she walked into a precinct, she was treated like shit. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, she was going to demand respect.
“Sure. We could do Mexican for you. Anything specific?”
“Al rosso con pollo with rice and bean, plantains, and salad. Make sure you ask for a double serving of chicken. These restaurants give you two small chicken legs that
ain’t enough for a small child,” Rosie stated. “And don’t forget the plantains. I hate when they forget to add the plantains, don’t you?”
No one replied.
“I’ll have that with the—”
“Diet Pepsi,” Hernandez interjected. “Anything else? Would you like a few cakes or a couple pies?”
Rosie couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “Well, a dessert would be nice, but I don’t want to trouble you.”
Hernandez smirked.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Sergeant Aponte added.
While Hernandez was fetching her food, Sergeant Aponte went over the preliminaries and was just about to get into the nitty-gritty when Hernandez came back with the food.
The aroma of the food had Rosie salivating.“I know y’all don’t think I can sit here and answer questions with my food just inches from me. I gotta eat now. I ain’t going nowhere. Y’all can finish asking questions once I’m done.”
Aponte and Hernandez excused themselves from the room while Rosie ate, but they watched her from the other room on video camera.
“I feel like shoving my foot down her greedy-ass throat!” Hernandez stated.
Aponte laughed. “Look at how she’s gobbling down those chicken bones. I’d hate to stand between her and a meal. Boy, oh boy!”
“We got three dead security guards and no leads, and her first thoughts are of food,” Hernandez remarked dryly. “Should we go and question the other witness?”
“Nah, I sent Wells, Anniston and Agent Peterson in with her. Hopefully they’re making more progress.”
***
“Go over the story one more time, Ms. Jasmine, just so we could make sure we understand fully,” officer Wells asked. His tone was soft and encouraging.
“OK,” she said, and exhaled. She was now frustrated. She’d told them the story a million times.
“I get off the bus at approximately eight a.m. as I always do and begin to make my way to the casino. It’s a long walk in the summer heat, so I take my time. I get to the back entrance of the Bellagio, and at first, nothing is out of the ordinary. I see the armored car, and then I heard a gunshot. It was loud. I look up, and I see a guy with a helmet and a gun. Immediately, I spin around and run for my life.”
Dirty Money Honey Page 11
