Chapter 6

OK, let’s go over the plan one more time,” I said to a hushed crowd of five. We were less than a week away from the heist, and these last days were important. “A heist consists of three parts—the plan, the execution, and the getaway. If for any reason one of these elements aren’t met, then we will be unsuccessful. It’s that simple.

“Cinnamon, at approximately 7:16 a.m., Garda armored truck will pull up to Harrah’s Casino and Hotel’s back entrance on the strip. Two armed armored-car security guards will unload seventeen million dollars worth of casino chips.”

“But, again, I know I keep asking this same question,” Delano said. “What a nigga gonna do with chips?”

I exhaled. Delano had such a thick skull. Going over the plan with all this testosterone was certainly more challenging than when dealing with the ladies. The women listened and took directions easily. With this crew, everything was a struggle.

“The chips are plastic currency, Delano. I keep telling you that. The best thing about a con is that the mark doesn’t know they are being conned. These chips are hiding in plain sight. Think about it,” I said, getting animated, using my hands to make my point. “How many millions of dollars are right in front of you as you play blackjack or roulette? And not one person ever thinks about snatching the pot. Do you know why? Because it’s disguised as something worthless. Put mud over a million-dollar diamond, and no one will see its worth. You feel me?”

“I feel you, Honey,” Big Meech stated. “We hit the tables, and they won’t know what’s coming. All the heat will be protecting the backrooms and the cashiers. Those punk-ass dealers ain’t gonna risk their lives over no chips. It’ll take a matter of seconds to load up and walk out that front door carrying millions.”

I smiled. At least one person was on the same page as I was.

“But that sound all good, Honey, when you say millions, but what if when Meech, Delano, and Chief go in and all they bring back are hundreds of dollar chips. Then what, huh?” Cinnamon liked her question. She’d thought long and hard before speaking, hoping to get everyone’s attention and finally be treated as an equal. She was tired of being overlooked because of her age. She had just turned eighteen, but everyone treated her like she was twelve.

“Why are we even letting this moron be down with our fuckin’ operation?” Big Meech barked.

Big Meech was a large, husky individual with massive biceps and triceps, a dead giveaway of the years he’d spent in Folsom State Prison bench-pressing heavy weights for recreation. At thirty-one, he’d already spent half his life in and out of correctional facilities on both the East Coast and the West. He’d settled down in New York eighteen months back when he followed his right-hand man Malik to do a home invasion. His man was killed on site, and he’d gotten away. He’d only planned to stay long enough to exact revenge for his slain homey, but the flashy city-never-sleeps lifestyle and sexy women kept his interest.

“I already told you why she’s needed, and it’s not for her brains. We need someone who can handle a car and also look inconspicuous sitting parked behind the stolen FedEx minivan.”

After Cinnamon had given birth to Big Meech’s daughter eight weeks earlier, things started going downhill from there between them. She was hoping that they’d actually pull off this heist because, with the money, she planned that her and Big Meech would get far away from Vegas and even farther away from Chief and Delano and their ghetto ways. Cinnamon felt that they were a bad influence on him and the separation would do their relationship some good. When she found out that Honey had sent money for them to come down to Vegas, she demanded she be allowed to come too. She’d even paid her way on the Greyhound bus and left their daughter with her mother.

“Honey, the chips are plastic currency, and they aren’t traceable, like you said. But the thing you have to remember is, each casino has its own chips,” Delano said.

“Don’t you think I know that?” I replied.

“Nah, what I’m getting at is, how the fuck will we cash these chips in? After we hit, Harrah’s Casino will be hot as hell. We’ll have to sit on them chips for a minute before we cash them in.”

Delano was making good points, but he was acting as if I hadn’t thought this shit through. His overthinking was interfering with my master plan. I didn’t bring him in to think. I brought him in to follow orders, which Chief told me his crew would do.

Delano continued, “Honey, all I’m saying is that, let’s say hundred-dollar chips are black and white. What’s to stop the casino from changing the color of hundred-dollar chips and then putting an expiration date on the black-and-white hundred-dollar chips just to flush out the person who’s sitting on the stolen chips?”

“Delano, listen, I got this, OK. It’s already taken care of, and that’s already been considered. We’re good,” I replied. “Trust me. They can’t and won’t put an expiration date on the chips. I’ve read the casino bylaws from the Gaming Commission thoroughly, and we’re good. Now can we get back to business?”

“I told y’all my sister was book-smart,” Chief bragged. “Now, if anyone of y’all muthafuckas read the casino bylaws, raise your hand. If not, shut the fuck up and let her finish.”

No one said a word, so I continued.

“Big Meech, you and Chief will already be in the cut inside the casino. Meech, you’ll be at the high rollers table playing baccarat. Chief, you’ll be at the roulette table. Those tables hold the most chips, at least a million dollars each. Delano will be the lookout for when the guards begin to change shifts. That’s at approximately 7:53a.m.

“When you see Javier, head of security, talk into his wrist, that means he’s just told all his underlings that the floor is secure and that they can make their way to the back. The moment he puts his arm to his waist, you put your Uzi in his spine and tell him not to make a muthafuckin’ move or he’s dead.”

“I can handle that,” Delano said reassuringly.

“I know you can,” I encouraged. “Next, you get on your walkie-talkie and say, ‘Set it off!’”

“And that’s when I can get busy.” Chief jumped up with two pistols, one in each hand. “I’ma say, ‘Nobody move! Nobody gets hurt!’”

Big Meech laughed. “That’s my nigga. While you and Delano are covering me and holding down the floor, I’m loading up our knapsacks with the chips.”

“I feel that we should have some type of explosive or some shit. To really set that muthafucka off.” Chief looked in full contemplation.

“Explosives?”

“Yeah, something like a grenade to toss while we’re making our exit.”

“This ain’t the movies, Chief,” I told him. “You wanna blow all y’all asses up? You’ve never been trained on using explosives, have you?”

“Ain’t nobody train my ass to let my gat go, but a nigga do it, right? There you go thinking you a muthafuckin’ Einstein. I done told you about that shit, Honey.”

“OK, be easy now, Chief,” Luther replied. “Ain’t no need for you to keep taking shit so personally.”

“Luther, you not gonna keep going against me just ’cause she your blood.”

“Like hell, I will!” Luther stood up and towered over the five-foot-six Chief.

Chief would never admit it, but Luther intimated the hell out of him. He always did.“Honey don’t even like your drunk ass!”

“Enough! We’re here to get that money, and all this bickering shit isn’t necessary. You’re worse than a room full of bitches. We all need each other, or else this plan won’t work. Chief, negative on the explosives, OK.”

“I was just trying to enhance the plan, that’s all.”

“And it’s appreciated, but we got lots to get through today.” I refocused my attention on my father. “Luther, you’ll be on the outside listening to the police scanner to see how far five-O is. There’s a four-minute response time from when the call or alarm is initiated to point of arrival. You’ll be in charge of keeping the guys on schedule. They have exactly two minutes from when Delano gives them the signal and make it out the front door, where Cinnamon will be waiting. You’ll also tail behind them in a throwaway car, keeping your distance, just in case the heat gets on them. You’ll be a distraction to hinder and run interference. Any coppers get too close, throw on your emergency brake and spin out.”

“Now that might be a little too risky,” Luther objected.

“If the heat is on our asses, you better do something!” Chief yelled. “If everyone doesn’t do their part, when it comes time to break bread, muthafuckas ain’t getting paid. Family or not, I can promise you that.”

“Word!” Big Meech agreed. “We going buck wild up in that piece, and the only thing you’re expected to do is have a little fender-bender? Get the fuck outta here! And you beefin’? Yet you gonna eat what we eat?”

“Look, I’m an old man. My body can’t take too many bumps and bruises,” Luther explained.

“If you can’t take the heat, get out the kitchen,” Cinnamon stated.

“Shut the fuck up! Would you do us all that favor?” Big Meech snapped.

“No! You shut the fuck up!” Cinnamon said, finding her voice. “You, you, you, big bully!”

Big Meech took his massive hand and, with one slap, leveled Cinnamon. Her head hit the floor so hard, I thought he’d split it open. Everyone gasped at the sound. Seconds later, however, Cinnamon was back on her feet, scratching and clawing at her baby daddy. We all intervened, and the meeting came to an abrupt end, while I stayed back to console the injured Cinnamon.

“Why do you allow him to put his hands on you? You’re better than that.”

“I didn’t,” she said, her face stained with tears and grief. “You see I fought him back.”

“You tried to fight him back. Your little baby punches could hardly penetrate someone as big and muscular as Big Meech. I’m talking about leaving him.”

“And go where? With what? My looks?” She snorted disgust at her own dire situation. “And what about our baby?”

“Well, after we pull off the Harrah’s job, you’ll have your own money to do what you please. You mean to tell me that you’d still stay with him and subject your baby to the dysfunction?”

“That money won’t be mines. I thought I’d be able to get the money and leave him.” She wiped her tearstained face with the back of her hand. “He’s already said that he’s taking my cut.”

“Taking your cut? How you figure?”

“Honey, once we split the money, who’s going to stop him from taking my money?”

I thought for a moment. My brain was already remixing the plan, which was something I tried to shy away from. It was too risky.

“Let me ask you a question, and I want you to answer honestly. If you could choose between having your own money or living life out with your baby daddy, which would you choose?”

Cinnamon lowered her eyes.

“And you can’t have both. So what would your choice be?”

“I’d choose the money. I hate to admit that, but I would choose the money.”

I nodded. “Good answer.”