The Take

by L. Brown

  Terry forgot to put the car back in drive and was caught off guard by the car reversing instead of going forward. He lost control of the wheel and slammed into a parked car. After gaining his composure, he threw the car in drive and peeled off. Just as he was doing so, Suave and a load of his men emerged from the doorway, skipping the steps. They were shooting at the car as it tried to escape.

  All Reese, Mar, and Terry could do was duck and say silent prayers that they didn’t get hit by the bullets bursting out the windows and piercing the side of the car. They dropped the guns when the car crashed, so they were defenseless.

  Tough Guy was crotched in the middle of the street, picking up his gun when the car raced dead at him. His screams were no match for the car’s grill as it smacked him. Headlights were the last thing he saw.

  A crunching sound was made, and the car lifted up as they finished Tough Guy off. That didn’t make Terry let up on the gas. They whipped wildly off the block and disappeared into the night.

  Reese felt a burning sensation in his leg. His entire pants leg was covered with blood when he looked down.

  “Yo! I’m hit!”

  Mar looked down, feeling all over his body to see if he was hit. “Me, too!” he said. “I think.” His shirt was covered in blood,but he couldn’t find where he was hit.

  "Me, too, Terry whispered faintly before losing consciousness.

  He car lost control, swerving and gaining a breakout of angry horns. Mar grabbed the wheel from the passenger seat as they sideswiped several cars.

  “Get his foot off the gas!” Reese panicked.

  They tried to bring the car to a stop. A light pole took care of that as they smashed into it. Everything went white. For a second, they thought they were dead, but, luckily, it was the airbags coming out.

  They scattered out of the car.

  “Help me get Terry,” Reese said.

  “He’s dead, man. Let’s go!”

  Reese checked his pulse and found that it was beating lightly. “No, he’s not! Help me!”

  They wanted to get Terry out the car, but sirens were getting closer and closer.

  “Come on. We have to go!” Mar yelled.

  Reluctantly, Reese left him, and they ran from the scene. The plan was a disaster.

  And now they had another enemy.

  CHAPTER 19

  “BOY, DON’T COME BUSTING in here like that!” Lindell snapped. “And why the fuck have y’all got all that blood on y’all?”

  Reese’s mom was on the couch high as a satellite when they came rushing in. She had a rundown three-bedroom brownstone on Devon Street. Although Lindell was a crack head, she was well-respected in the hood. Devon Street was right off of Locust Avenue where she ran a speakeasy, selling liquor and all types of prescription drugs. This was where Ghost used to cop his drug of choice before his beef with Reese.

  The blood Mar and her son were covered in didn’t worry her one bit. They were moving, so as far as she was concerned, they could carry their asses right back where they came from. Lindell had the nerve to be fussing about someone busting in her house unannounced when her door stayed open, inviting the whole hood in.

  Reese and Mar ignored her and ran downstairs to the basement. They were forced to leave Terry at the scene because the law was coming. They hoped he was still alive. They ended up stealing a car from a gas station to get home.

  They stripped out of their bloody clothes. Reese kept seething and wincing at the pain as he took his jeans off. Once they were both out their clothes, they broke out laughing. Reese’s wound was no more than a flesh wound; it was only a graze. Mar checked himself, and, to his surprise, he hadn’t been hit at all. The blood on his shirt had to have come from Tough Guy. He must have gotten hit when the gun went off while they were wrestling for it.

  They had to laugh about the entire situation. But, when they thought about Terry, things weren’t funny any more.

  Everybody was back in Philly after balling out of control down in Miami. After the trip, they were even more determined to get more money. Shareef took the flight back with them.

  It was time to get down to business. However, Schemes wasn’t included in the job, and it was bothering him. Ghost and Reem were off somewhere with Shareef, and Schemes couldn’t believe he wasn’t invited to the meeting. He was taking that personally. Although he didn’t know Shareef too well, he felt like his boys should have told him about whatever they were up to.

  Frog and Feeq were pressing him about doing a bank robbery, but, for more than one reason, he declined. They were family, but, instead of going outside the circle, he had stayed loyal. Feeq wanted him to do a job with a CO, and he wasn’t with that.

  Schemes was even more hurt by the fact that he had held Ghost down while he was in jail, and, in return, Ghost turned his back on him to mess with Shareef. Reem didn’t do anything for Ghost while he was gone, but look who Ghost had by his side. Unbelievable, Schemes thought.

  “Shit! I’m the one who put all of this shit together.” Schemes patted his chest, talking to himself. He’d been pacing back and forth for several minutes in his living room. “And this is how they do me!”

  He snatched his phone from the table and dialed out. “Frog, where you at?”

  “In the crib. Damn! What’s up? What time is it? Why you calling me so early?” His voice crackled.

  “Stop bitching, nigga!” Schemes told him. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “What? You better not!”

  Before Frog could object, the line went dead. Schemes was already out the door.

  Shareef didn’t waste time running the plan down to everyone. Though things were more complicated than the other robberies, the crew was still with it. Initially, they were skeptical because things seemed too good to be true. However, they knew that, at any second, things could go wrong and turn into a blood bath. Still, with the money involved, the risk was outweighed by the reward. Shareef was the mastermind of the job. Though he wouldn’t be getting his hands dirty, he was responsible for putting everything together.

  The day was just right for the job. The clouds captured the sun, and the temperature was perfect. Still, beads of sweat escaped Ghost’s pores, resting on his forehead. The mask he wore hid the nervous expression on his face. He couldn’t help but wonder if the others were as nervous as him.

  The armored truck they were robbing was cruising at a normal pace. It traveled the usual route. The truck’s guards were locked and loaded with itchy fingers waiting for someone to try them. Armored trucks and banks were robbed on a daily basis in Philly, so the guards and police were always alert.

  Ghost and the team were on point. They couldn’t show any signs of nervousness or hesitation because, if so, the robbery could turn into a segment of the movie Heat.

  Reem was fidgeting with the Mossberg shotgun. He didn’t look like his usual self. He had the face of another man. The bulge under his shirt showed he had a vest on.

  The other guy, Trev, who was one of Shareef’s men, was in the front, driving. He was driving like he didn’t have a care in the world. Over objections, Shareef had sent him on the job with them, but they had really wanted Schemes to go with them. They didn’t want to break up the crew, but Shareef insisted on Trev’s involvement. They knew Schemes was hot about them leaving him out, but they intended to break him off.

  The truck turned off Spring Garden Street onto Columbus Boulevard. It was pulling up to the spot where it would make its next drop. This was where it was going down. “It’s time to get this paper,” Ghost said.

  “Fresh outta the Federal Reserve,” Reem added with a nod. The truck slowed before coming to a stop. “Here we go,” Ghost said, looking at Reem. The two of them jumped out with the Mossberg pump shotguns.

  Frog was laying in the bed, half-asleep. He couldn’t get back to sleep after Schemes woke him up. He knew something was wrong because of the early morning call and because his cousin was on his way to his spot so early. He’d, also, heard
the urgency in Schemes’s voice and instantly knew something was up.

  The TV had been on all night. Frog knew The Price is Right was on although he was under the covers. He heard the Showcase Showdown wheel spinning. The door damn near flew open when someone started banging on it like they were the police.

  Frog got up and opened the door for Schemes.

  “Damn, nigga! You banging on the door like the po-po.” Schemes ignored him and barged inside. He was flaming. He plopped down on the bed in Frog’s room and went right into things. Frog had half of a Dutch of weed in the ashtray, and he lit it up.

  “Who told you to light my shit?” Frog barked.

  “Nigga, you’re in here laying around in your damn boxers, watching The Price is Right,” Schemes said, but double looked at the screen to check out one of the show’s models.

  Schemes took a drag of the weed before saying, “Man, these niggas are about to come up on something nice, but they won’t tell me what. They cut me out.” He let the smoke ease out of his mouth and nose.

  “What are you talking about?” Frog was puzzled. He slipped some jeans and a T-shirt on.

  “Ghost and Reem are up to something with Shareef, and they didn’t put me on.”

  “How you know?”

  “They fucking told me. Yeah, these niggas told me they didn’t need me. But they kept bragging about how big it was.”

  “Yeah?” Frog was shocked because they always moved together. “What you think it is?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out.”

  “Cool out. You know they’re going to break us off, so calm down,” Frog said.

  “That’s not the point. I put these niggas on taking money, so how they gonna move without me?”

  “Cuz, you act like you need them to move with or something. I’ve been tryna get you to put me on for a minute now, but you be brushing me off.” Frog knew this was his chance to convince his cousin to do a sting with him.

  “That’s exactly why I came over. I’m gonna put something together, but first we gotta go see Feeq.”

  “Why we gotta see him?” It wasn’t that Frog didn’t want to see his peoples, but he didn’t know what seeing him had to do with taking some money.

  “I’ll explain it on the way up there. Get yourself together, so we can roll.”

  Schemes was hesitant to tell him that he was going to see Feeq to set things up with Smitty. He didn’t want to do a robbery with him, but they needed a third man. He knew Smitty wanted to move because Feeq was bugging him about it, so it was either find someone else or put Smitty on the team. Frog would definitely have something to say, so he was trying to think of a way to tell him.

  The Price is Right went off, and the twelve o’clock news came on afterward. Schemes was reclined on the bed and Frog was getting ready when the news caught their attention.

  “Hi, this is Amy Taylor, reporting live from CBS3 Eyewitness News. I’m here live at an abandoned warehouse on Columbus Boulevard. As you can see here in the background, police and FBI agents are on the scene, investigating what they are calling an armored truck heist.

  “Moments ago, a Lumbar armored truck was discovered in the warehouse behind me. Apparently, an armed guard, who was on duty driving the truck, has been found bound with handcuffs inside the truck. According to police, the guard was uninjured and will be taken to FBI headquarters for questioning.

  “From what we have been told so far, the truck was found after being tracked by a GPS tracking device equipped inside the truck. The truck was idle for over thirty minutes, and police were contacted to investigate the unusual incident.

  “A substantial amount has come up missing from the truck. The amount has yet to be determined, but police are saying the loss is expected to be in the millions.

  “Authorities are in search of two armed guards who are employed by Lumbar Services. Those two men, Darmacus Stoves and Charles Wright, have not yet been labeled suspects, but they are persons of interest and expected of foul play.

  “If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of these individuals or facts surrounding this robbery, the police are asking you to contact them by dialing the 1-800 number on your screen. As details unfold on this matter, we will keep you updated. For more information visit our website at CBS3.com, thank you. I’m Amy Taylor, reporting live form CBS3 Eyewitness News. Mary, back to you.”

  Schemes and Frog sat there, staring at the television in shock. They couldn’t believe their eyes or ears. They looked at one another in silence for a second.

  “You think it was them?” Frog asked.

  “It ain’t no fucking coincidence.”

  CHAPTER 20

  HOURS EARLIER...

  The warehouse smelled like a basement. The air was dank and polluted with a mildew aroma. The walls were brown, covered in dust, giving them a rusty look. A rusted staircase went up to a balcony, which looked like it would collapse at any second. The windows were covered with a dull-green coat of chipped paint and equipment scattered about.

  Shareef, Reem, Ghost, and Trev sat at a table, discussing the plan to take down the armored truck. Spread across the table was a blueprint of the Federal Reserve Bank located in Center City. Next to it was a map displaying the route of one particular truck.

  Surprisingly, Trev was the one who was running the show. He pointed out things on the map to let the others know where everything was located inside the bank. Trev had been employed by Lumbar Services for the last four years. He and Shareef were good friends. They had agreed to take down one of the trucks before recruiting the others.

  A bulletin board was in front of the table with rows of pictures pinned to it. The pictures were of the truck, of the location they would rob, and, most importantly, of the two guards, Damarcus Stoves and Charles Wright.

  The two guards were new to the truck service. There were pictures of them, their families, cars, houses, and a picture of every angle of their faces and bodies. They seemed to be oblivious to the fact that someone was taking pics of them. According to Shareef, he’d captured these shots during what he called fieldwork. The plan was to frame the two guards. They were going to make it appear that the guards were crooked and had pulled off the heist of the truck. In order to make that work, they had to get rid of the guards for good.

  That morning, the guards were kidnapped and murdered, and their bodies were disposed. This way, when they tied Trev up in the truck, the cops would believe him when he told them that the other two guards with him had committed the robbery. They’re families would be questioned, but, just as planned, they would say their husbands left for work normally and never returned. It would appear as if they took the money and left the country. In reality, they would be dead and gone.

  As they stood to execute the plan, Ghost spoke up again, saying, “I still think we should bring Schemes in on this.” Reem nodded his head in agreement. Shareef had expressed his lack of trust in Schemes and didn’t want him involved in the plan.

  He snapped, emphasizing it again. “We don’t need him. I don’t like or trust him.” He patted his chest for emphasis. “I followed these niggas to put this together. I’m the man!”

  Ghost and Reem were dressed just like Trevor. They wore matching armored guard uniforms. Their chests were bulging with the vests they wore. Name tags were pinned to their shirts with the guards’ first initials and last names.

  The most clever part of the robbery were the prosthetic masks Ghost and Reem wore. They were cloned to look exactly like the two guards. They looked so real that a person would think they were actually the real people they were molded to look like. The masks were like the ones worn by Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible and Angelina Jolie in Salt.

  Shareef was behind getting the masks created as well. He was a master of the take. Ghost and Reem’s complexions matched those of the guards as well.

  There was another person involved, a guard named Richard, who was the one who released the money after getting the signatures of
the guards leaving the Reserve. He would let them sign out and take the money as if he saw nothing suspicious, making the job even more possible to pull off.

  “All right, remember what we went over,” Shareef told them. “You guys must make every stop normally before we reach the point where we move. The truck will be on a GPS, so, once you get to the warehouse, we must move quickly to empty the truck and get out there before the law shows up.”

  Everyone understood and was ready to go.

  “All right. Let’s get this paper,” Shareef said.

  Inside the underground floor of the Federal Reserve, the three men strolled down the corridor. They were headed to the garage where the trucks were loaded. The corridor reminded them of a prison cellblock because everything was steel and cement.

  Occasionally, they got a glance at the loads of money in the rooms as they passed by them. Trev was used to walking through the bank, so he remained calm, but Ghost and Reem were nervous as hell.

  They passed a room that looked like it had a three-layer sheet of Plexiglas on it. Inside, they could see the stacks of money being loaded in bags. It looked like too much money to count. Ghost looked at Reem, and, for a second, he thought he was the guard Demarcus. The mask looked that real.

  The Reserve had state-of-the-art security equipment; cameras were mounted overhead throughout the entire building. Instinctively, they kept their heads down as much as possible to avoid them.

  The plan seemed to be converging just as planned. They had the guards’ keycards, which they had taken before murdering them. However, they let Trev do most of the opening of doors.

  They were approaching the garage door up ahead. It was almost over; they’d made it through the bank as stealthily as possible. As they made their way down the last hallway, they heard footsteps behind them. Chatter from walkie talkies erupted as well. At the same time, they passed a security guard posted on the wall. The short, stocky officer was clad in the same uniform as them.