“I guess.”
“I’m Bricks.” He held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Bricks,” Candy replied, shaking his hand. “You from up north, huh?”
“No question, Jerze.”
“One of those your bike over there?” Candy asked.
“Yeah, that’s my baby over there,” he proudly boasted, turning to point to the R1.
“That’s hot. I always wanted to ride one of those. How do they ride?”
“Like a bronco. Might be too much for you.”
“Huh, I can ride anything,” Candy retorted. Something about the way she said the word anything caused the semi-bulge in Bricks’s jeans to throb.
“Anything, huh?” he repeated.
“That’s what I said.”
“How would you like to go for a ride now?” Bricks offered, having more then just a ride on his R1 on his mind.
“I’m game.”
“That’s what it is then. Hold up.”
Bricks pulled out his cell phone. “Yo, can you hear me?” he asked, the chirp breakin’ up. “Yo, if you can hear me, I’m out. Catch y’all back at the spot.”
Bricks placed his phone back in his hip clip. “Where you wanna go?” he asked.
“It don’t matter,” Candy replied.
“Well, let me ask you another question. Where you don’t wanna go?”
“It don’t matter,” she repeated.
“There it is then, follow me.” Bricks glanced at his ice bezel. It was 1:30 in the morning. He would have to catch the club another time, he thought. Tonight he was going straight to the after-party.
“A’ight playboy, I see ya work,” Biggs called out as Bricks hopped on his bike. Bricks threw up the peace sign then peeled off.
Candy started up the Ducati, revved the engine, and followed suit. Bricks made his way back onto Waterside Drive, headed toward the Sheraton. He decided to skip the ride he’d offered to Candy on his R1 for now and take her back to his hotel suite for what he felt would be the ride of her life. Bricks put on his right blinker to turn into the valet parking of the hotel, but Candy flew right pass him, blew her horn, and waved for Bricks to follow. Bricks detoured and took pursuit as Candy flew up the ramp of Exit 9 and merged onto Highway 264.
Bricks’s speedometer read 120 miles per hour as he played catch-up with Candy. He was turned on by how well Candy handled her bike. He was used to females being the backseat passengers, but Candy rode like a pro. Bricks increased his speed, pulling close to her rear tire. His speedometer read 140 miles per hour now as they zoomed through the open highway of 264 East.
Just as Bricks was about to become parallel with Candy, he noticed out of his periphery that another bike had joined them on the highway. Caring less about the unwanted addition, Bricks continued to increase his speed. He and Candy were now riding side by side. Bricks saw that Candy began to break her speed down now that he had caught up to her and he did the same. They were now doing a comfortable 80 miles per hour. Again, Bricks noticed the other rider off to his right, pulling up alongside of him As he pulled up, for a split second something inside of Bricks began to feel uneasy. Despite his panic button going off, Bricks brushed off the notion.
Treacherous pulled off the ramp of Exit 11 seeing the two bikes ride by. He had been waiting for the past hour for them to cross his path. Treacherous gunned his R1 down the highway in an attempt to catch the two powerful motorcycles. Having his R1 upgraded, it was easy for him to catch up. He was a speed demon, so it was nothing for him to push it to 160 miles per hour. He had mastered the art of riding and feared nothing. When Treacherous reached the back of the rider on the R1 he deliberately fell back until he was fully ready to execute his plan. He had been working on this caper ever since he had seen Bricks sorting out his money by his bike in the parking lot of Military Circle Mall. Treacherous had estimated at least 50 to 80 grand in Bricks’s hand. Treacherous had just passed another rider with a knapsack on his bag and assumed the two men had just made a drug transaction. Treacherous was tempted to get Bricks then, but couldn’t risk someone walking by and foiling the whole idea. Seeing the two bikes breaking down their speed, Treacherous reached into his shoulder strap and sped up.
A second too late, Bricks saw the black-nozzled handgun that was now drawn on him by the biker. Though he had two himself in his possession, he knew reaching for one could cost him his life. His other option was to make a run for it and let the chips fall where they may, but that idea was x-ed out when he saw out the corner of his left periphery that the female rider had moved in closer to him. When he looked, he couldn’t believe the chick Candy also had a gun pointed at him.
Teflon was pleased with how easy it was for her to manipulate Bricks to leave with her. She and Treacherous had already discussed the possibility of her having to single-handedly rob Bricks in the vicinity of the club if Treacherous couldn’t infiltrate the area. She knew she was capable of pulling it off, but she preferred the plan to be followed through by the both of them. They were a team, and she was used to doing things as one. Teflon knew Treacherous wanted this last vic badly before they moved on to bigger and better things, and she wanted things to go in accordance. Once Teflon saw Treacherous had joined the scene, she slowed down so he could pull up. She had seen Treacherous draw his weapon even before Bricks knew someone had gotten the drop on him. Teflon also drew her weapon. She sensed that Bricks was contemplating his options so she moved in closer to let him know they were limited. Teflon imagined the look on Bricks’s face underneath his helmet once he realized the fix was in.
The facial expressions of all the men she had put in compromising positions with her beauty always amused her. With the exception of Treacherous, she had never met a man who wasn’t sex driven. She didn’t believe all men were, just the ones she came in contact with who ran the streets. Coming up on another exit, Teflon waved her gun for Bricks to get off. Treacherous was already veering off with his gun focused on Bricks. Teflon pointed hers at his back tire in case he tried to make a mad dash for it. Bricks had no choice but to comply. He was steaming inside. He couldn’t believe he had been caught with his pants down so easily. He wanted so badly to make a run for it, but he was no dummy. He knew the odds of getting away were slim. The deck was stacked against him, and Bricks knew he had to respect the rules and charge this one to the game.
Treacherous was the first one off his bike once they lead Bricks to the secluded area. Teflon hopped off her bike and snatched the keys from Brickss’ bike ignition.
“You got me, bitch,” Bricks mumbled from under his helmet just enough for Teflon to hear as she drew close.
Teflon smiled. “Your mama,” she shot back.
“You know what’s up, chump,” Treacherous announced now, walkin’ up on Bricks.
“A. Empty your pockets, B. Die trying to be a superhero and have your family pull out their best black suits.”
Bricks snickered at the corny robbery speech. Mu’fucka probably rehearsed that shit a million times, Bricks thought. In his younger years he had been robbed by some killers. The ones who did talk let you know they meant business. Bricks didn’t believe the two who had gotten the drop on him were from that same bloodline. The more he thought about it, the more trying them became appealing to him. “Ain’t no C option?” Bricks asked sarcastically.
“Nah, just A and B, clown.” Boom. The thunderous roar echoed in the air as the hot slug tore into Bricks’s chest. He gasped. The shot came out of nowhere and caught him by surprise. He had underestimated the gunman totally, he realized and it had cost him.
“Babe, when I pull him off the bike, go in this fool’s pockets so we can get up out of here. We’ll come back for the bike ’cause where he goin’ he ain’t gonna need it,” Bricks heard Treacherous say. Bricks did not want to believe this was his final fate. Back home many would have tried to murder him in the blink of an eye if they knew he had access to a million- three back home in hopes of obtaining his hood riches. Now here he only h
ad a little over 40,000 dollars and was sitting on his motorcycle bleeding to death. Not because he didn’t want to give up the money he possessed, because he had plenty of it, but because his ego overpowered his intellect and his mouth wrote a check that bounced. Bricks saw Treacherous raise his gun. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for life after death. Treacherous planted two more slugs into Bricks’s chest plate, then snatched him off the bike. “Go ahead, babe. I’ma stash the bike until we come back. We’ll dump the body before we go.”
“Alright.”
Once everything was taken care of Treacherous and Teflon went back underground until the time had come for them to take down what they considered their final job.
Chapter Nineteen
It was officially judgment day that separated the men from the boys, the women from the little girls, the gangstas from the lames, big-timers from the small-timers, those who were ahead of the game from those who were late, and the strong from the weak. This was it, the moment of truth; it was either now or never and for Teflon and Treacherous. They had come too far to turn back now, there was no looking back.
“Boo, you double-checked those other whips?” asked Treacherous, pulling alongside Teflon in the CLS to get the getaway cars they had stashed.
Treacherous had come up with a plan that any notorious bank robber could be proud of. He intended for him and Teflon to drive together until they came across another vehicle that would be useful in their upcoming plan, then separately drive to the bank. Once they succeeded in their attempt to knock off the bank, the plan was to ride off from the job, again separately, taking two different getaway routes, which they had mapped out thoroughly, stashing two additional whips positioned along the route as a means of diversion in case someone spotted the initial vehicles. The Benz Treacherous drove had been obtained that morning right before they reached the bank from two unlucky wannabes who were just at the wrong place at the wrong time, or rather the right time depending on who it came from. Treacherous reflected on the carjacking he and Teflon had just committed nearly an hour ago and felt no remorse about the extent of the results. It was nothing personal because he didn’t even know the two dudes, it was just business. They had something he needed, so he took it and to assure that his major objective wasn’t foiled they had to go, it was just that simple. He and Teflon had far too much blood on their hands to be worrying about two nobodies now. Their only concern was the bank, which sat ten blocks up from where they pulled over to talk. Treacherous knew Teflon had secured all areas because the night before they had gone over everything one last time, including scoping out the bank the whole day. He was only doing a final security check just as an extra precaution, and Teflon knew that.
“Yeah, I left them unlocked, and the keys are in the sun visor. We good on that,” replied Teflon.
“Cool. It’s almost seven-thirty. Yo, I’ma meet you inside, a’ight?” Treacherous said, looking at his watch.
“Um-hmm,” Teflon responded, doing the same, knowing that their watches were synchronized.
“Let’s do this then,” Treacherous said to her right before he began hitting the power-window switch, rolling the CLS window back up.
Chapter Twenty
Like any other normal day, the middle-aged white bank manager proceeded to unlock the front door of the bank for the employees to come in and set up their teller stations before the bank was officially opened at 9;00 a.m. The sixteen employees, which included ten bank tellers, five secretaries, and the assistant manager, all waited until 7:00 to arrive like clockwork for the bank manager to let them inside, each employee anxious to start their Monday morning. As each watch either beeped on the hour or the hands struck seven, everyone noticed the bank manager approaching the door. He disarmed the alarm using his specially made key, which was the actual kill switch.
As the door opened, the employees began entering the establishment. “Good morning,” he greeted his colleagues one by one without looking up as they piled into the bank while he secured the door with the stopper. This was something he ritually did every day. Just as he secured the door the final employee stepped inside. He counted sixteen pairs of shoes while he was bent down. Nine women and seven men, and now it was time to lock the door until opening time. He knew it would have been easier to just hold the door open for everyone, but with him nothing was that simple.
As the bank manager began to rise, he noticed another pair of shoes that stopped directly in front of him, only they weren’t really shoes, they were construction boots. Timberlands, he recognized. Instantly a sense of fear overcame the bank manager as his panic alarm went off inside of him. Seeing the tree symbol on the side of the boots, the bank manager knew that whoever stood over him was not an employee, because in his ten years as a bank manager he never saw any employee wear a pair of Timberland boots to work. He wondered if anybody else had seen the unknown person who stood over him, because he was too afraid to look up. All the other employees were so busy trying to get situated no one even noticed what was taking place by the front door. There was no doubt in the bank manager’s mind that if he looked up he wouldn’t like what he saw. Before he could decide what he was going to do, the decision was made for him.
Treacherous pulled up a few feet away from the line of people he knew were employees standing in front of the bank, waiting to be let in. He had watched and timed the same scenario for weeks so he was already familiar with the drill. It was five minutes to seven when he pulled up. That gave him more than enough time to check his weapons. Treacherous knew the bank manager wouldn’t open the bank door until 7:00; not a minute earlier or a minute later.
By the time Treacherous’s watch reached one minute to seven, he was exiting the CLS. He had timed how long it took for him to get out of the vehicle and walk at a normal pace to the bank, bringing him to the estimated time for the manager to unlock the door. Just as he thought, the employees were all so caught up in getting inside to prepare for the early-morning rush that his presence went unnoticed as he saw the first twelve employees enter the bank. Just as the last one walked through the door, Treacherous was only a foot away. He pretended to be a passerby on his way to work. So far, so good, he thought, seeing as how none of the employees bothered to even look back. Treacherous had seen the bank manager struggle with the door stopper many times and knew that the manager’s struggles would be a key factor and beneficial to him when it came to getting inside the bank. Treacherous saw the manager had finished securing the door, only to have to unsecure it and lock it back. He laughed at the white manager’s daily routine, thinking how easy it would be to just hold the door open himself, but when it came to white people they always made the simplest things seem like such a difficult task, Treacherous thought. Because of that, Treach intended to capitalize off his ridiculous, complicated method.
Treacherous had both of his weapons out as he walked through the door before the manager had time to close it. He stopped directly over the kneeling man, waiting for him to rise as he scanned the bank to see what the rest of the employees were doing. Everyone was off doing their thing, preparing themselves for the 9:00 rush, which was a good thing for Treacherous. He knew he and Teflon would be long gone by then. When Treacherous saw the manager was trying to get up, he sprung into action.
“Don’t be no hero, my man,” he semi-whispered to the bank manager, placing the barrel of one of the cannons he possessed up against the manager’s right temple. Without even looking back he could tell that Teflon had entered the building as well.
Teflon pulled up a few feet away from the stolen CLS Treacherous drove, just as Treacherous had started toward the bank. It was 6:59 with 20 seconds until the hour when she looked at her watch. She checked her .380 and Beretta while she waited for the last of the employees and Treacherous to enter the bank. Once she saw Treacherous enter, she tucked her two burners and exited the Chrysler Crossfire, leaving the doors unlocked. She took a quick glance around as she walked toward the bank. When she reached the front do
or she could see Treacherous standing over the white bank manager with his two pieces out inside the bank’s entry. As she came through the door, she walked right up on Treacherous kicking the man to the floor, causing him to land flat on his back, and she too immediately went into action.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Ohmigod!”
Hearing the young white girl scream caused the rest of the employees to stop in their tracks. When they all looked up they saw Treacherous standing there with two monstrous guns pointed in their direction, one to the right side of the room and the other to the left. Before anyone could really react, Treacherous and Teflon were already on top of things and had all perimeters secured.
“Everyone put their mu’fuckin’ hands up and come out here where I can see you,” Treacherous demanded as Teflon secured the front door of the bank, locking the safety lock, which didn’t require a key. That was something they had noticed while doing their homework on the bank.
Treacherous had counted the bodies as the employees appeared in plain view and began lying on the bank’s floor.
“I know it’s sixteen of you mu’fuckas in here not including your boss, and I only counted fifteen, so whoever is missing better show their face before you be responsible for all the dead bodies out here,” he yelled.
Hearing that, one of the women tellers immediately spoke up.
“He’s in the bathroom. I’ll go get him,” she said through sobs as she attempted to head toward the bathroom.
“Bitch, who told you to move?” barked Teflon, running up on her and throwing her to the ground by her blond hair.
“Babe, go get that nigga the fuck up outta there,” Treacherous instructed.
“Y’all better hope that nigga ain’t got no cell phone up in there, ’cause if he do, y’all some dead asses.”
Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 1: The Story of Treacherous and Teflon Page 14
