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“Yeah, Tee, but these mutha fuckas are ballers and gangsters. That’s why they got paper. They out there takin’ theirs,” Jackie said as she finished her drink. “My glass is empty. Can I at least get a waitress over here?” she asked and flagged one down.

“So, what you got in mind, Tee?” Ronnie asked.

“What’s rule number three?”

“Nigga, get off your ass if you plan to be rich,” both Jackie and Ronnie said in unison.

“That’s right. We’ve been sittin’ on our asses waitin’ for shit to get better. That shit ain’t happening. We got to go out and take ours,” Travis said.

“So, I say again,” Ronnie questioned, “what you got in mind, Tee? You talkin’ about us rollin’?”

“Hell no! You know everybody and his pops tryin’ to sling rocks.”

“Then what you talkin about?” Jackie asked.

“Let’s get outta here,” Travis said as he stood up. Jackie and Ronnie got up and followed Travis toward the door.

“Yo, Tee, there go your boy Freeze,” Ronnie said.

“Where?”

“Over there, at that table in the corner.”

“I need to holla at him real quick. I’ll meet y’all outside.” Travis stepped toward Freeze. “What’s up, Freeze?”

“What’s up, Travis?”

Freeze had been a captain in Mike Black’s organization for years. But with Black gone to the Bahamas and Bobby Ray being semi-retired, Freeze ran the day-to-day operations. He had known Freeze since junior high school, when Travis used to do Freeze’s homework for him. Freeze liked Travis and respected him for what he had accomplished.

“I need to holla at you for a second.”

“Have a seat,” Freeze instructed. Travis sat down. “So, what’s up?”

“I need to get some guns.”

Freeze stared at him. He was little disappointed to know that Travis didn’t make it legit. But at the same time, Freeze saw a valuable opportunity in having somebody like Travis on the team. “What you lookin’ for and how many?”

“Six. Nine millers.”

“I can do that,” Freeze said. “Clean, no serial number.”

“How much?

“What you need them for?”

“How much?” Travis laughed and asked again.

“Look, Travis, I can get you the guns you need, any kind you need and as many as you want. That’s not a problem. I know you got your people waitin’ for you, but answer my question and then listen to what I got to say.”

“I’ve been lookin’ at a little spot I wanna hit.”

“Thought so. Now listen. Here’s the deal. I give you the guns and whatever else you need, you give me a cut of the job.” Travis sat back and didn’t answer. “I know what you’re thinkin’. Why don’t I just buy the guns myself and keep all the money?” Freeze said with a smile.

“The thought had occurred to me.”

“’Cause if you do it my way, you work for me. You have my protection, and the protection and services of this entire organization. If you need something, you come to me. You have a problem, you come to me. You get caught, you call me. You keep your mouth shut and I take care of you. You tell me what you’re gonna hit, I tell you first if it’s gonna be more of a problem than it’s worth, if you dig what I mean. Then, if it’s worth your time- ”

Travis thought about what Freeze was saying. It sounded appealing, but he wasn’t sure it was something he wanted to get involved in. He had known Freeze for years and knew how he rolled.

Travis remembered seeing Freeze and Mike Black one night when they were involved in a running gunfight through the streets. They had shot one man on the run; the other had run out of bullets. Black ran him down and pistol-whipped him while a crowd formed. A woman ran up on them and tried to shoot Black in the back. She missed, though, and hit him in the arm. Before she could get off another shot, Freeze shot her. Black yelled, “That bitch shot me! Hey, muthafucka, your bitch shot me!” Black made the beaten man get on his knees and shot him once in the head.

“I don’t know, Freeze,” Travis said quietly.

“I don’t make this offer to just anybody, but I know you. You a smart, schemin’-ass nigga. Always was. I know you got this job, whatever it is, planned out to the very last detail. And I know you plannin’ on hittin’ someplace that’s gonna be worthwhile for you. If you wasn’t that type o’ muthafucka, I wouldn’t fuck with you.”

“How much you want?”

“Ten percent. But don’t answer me now. Think about it. Talk it over. I know you ain’t talkin’ bout rollin’ up in nowhere by yourself. I know they down with you. Six hands, six nines.”

That was two years ago, and since that time, Travis planned and the trio executed four robberies each year. The days and times would vary depending on the particular job. They robbed banks, grocery stores, jewelry stores, and anything else that they could hit quick and come away with a large return for their investment of time. They were organized, prepared, and over all else, disciplined.

They created names for themselves so they would never make the mistake of calling their real names during a job. Travis, whose last name was Burns, became Mr. Blue. Ronnie Grier became known as Mr. Green. There was a lot of discussion about whether Jackie should be Miss White, Ms. White, or Mr. White, but it was Jackie who had the final say. “I think it’s more important for us to be uniform and consistent than politically correct. And besides, Miss White sound too soft for a robber, and Ms. sound lame.” So, despite the fact that she was a woman with a model’s good looks, Jackie Washington became Mr. White.

Jackie pulled the Lexus up in front of the home of Murray Sewell, a fence that Freeze had put Travis onto. Freeze had done business with Sewell for years. He was a dirty, low-down, cutthroat, back-stabbin’ muthafucka, but he paid, and he paid well.

When they arrived, Murray was standing outside the house talking with another man. Once the other man looked up and saw Travis coming toward the house, he dropped his head, turned and walked away quickly. Murray looked at Travis and frowned, but just as quickly, he posted a big shit-eating grin and raised his arms as if Travis were his best friend.

“Travis, good to see you. Come inside. Best you’re not seen. You know how the old ladies like to talk in this neighborhood.”

Travis and Ronnie walked in the house past Murray. When Jackie entered the house, she handed Murray the keys to the Lexus. “What year?” Murray asked as he looked at the car parked in front of his house.

“Two thousand four,” Jackie replied.

“And the keys? Where did these come from, may I ask?”

“Key box. Under the car, beneath the driver’s side door,” Jackie advised.

“Very obvious, but good for you for thinking to look there,” Murray said as he walked out to the car and took a look at it. He unlocked the car and got in, started the engine and checked the mileage, then drove the car in back of his house to park it in the garage.

Once he came in the house, he picked up the phone. When the party answered, Murray spoke about the Lexus and agreed on a price. “Eight thousand, minus my fee?” Travis nodded his head.

Murray hung up the phone and turned his attention to the bag that Travis was carrying. “So, Travis, what else have you got for me?”

“I have the items we discussed,” Travis said. He handed the bag to Murray.

“Come into the dining room, Travis,” Murray made a point of saying. “You two sit. Make yourself comfortable. We won’t be long.” Murray waved his hand at Ronnie and Jackie. “What am I saying? You know we’ll be a long time. So sit.”

Ronnie and Jackie looked at each other. Travis nodded his head to let them know that everything was cool. Jackie grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch. Ronnie shook his head slowly.

“Can I get you anything?” Murray asked before he disappeared into the dining room, followed closely by Travis.

“Just our money,” Ronnie said as he sat down in a chair.