Free Baltimore Chronicles by Treasure Hernandez

Sticks said, pointing his gun at Trail’s head.
    â€œFuck this shit! Do this shit without me. We ain’t ready yet.” Trail stormed out of the warehouse. He had finally hit his breaking point. There was no way he was going to be a part of something as big as this without a well thought out plan of action.
    â€œGo then, you scared-ass pussy!”
    Sticks started having a bad gut feeling about going through with their plans too, but he couldn’t let the young’uns see him sweat or think he was scared. Deep down he knew Trail was right. There needed to be more planning, but with the thought of a snitch in his crew, and his hunger for power, he couldn’t call it off. He mentally shook off his doubts and made his weapons ready for war.
    â€œFuck anybody who ain’t down!” Sticks growled as he looked around into the faces of the young crew of gunners. All too afraid to reject his ideas, none of them dared to speak or express even a little bit of doubt. “A’ight then. Let’s roll out,” he yelled.
    Â 
    Danielle’s heels clicked against the shiny marble floor of the bank. Dark shades covered her eyes as she stood behind a small counter and acted as if she was filling out a deposit or withdrawal slip. She carefully transcribed the note Sticks had provided to her word for word onto the bank’s withdrawal slip. She looked around, trying not to show her nerves. She had a precise time to act. If she made one false move, everyone would be thrown off their role. She was the point person and everything going as planned depended on her.
    She swallowed hard as Timber walked in, then Sticks, then two more of the crew. They fanned out and got into their rehearsed positions. Now all four corners of the bank were covered and being watched.
    Danielle looked at her watch and exhaled. Ten seconds left . Slide the paper under the glass. Tell the teller, “No funny business,” and show her the gun. Slide the paper under the glass. Tell the teller, “No funny…” She rehearsed her role over and over again in her head. She also thought about the alternate plan, just in case.
    Danielle had been charged with shooting the little old security guard that stood by the customer service tables running his mouth, if something jumped off and he tried to break bad. Timber and the others would then take the counters and snatch as much money as they could get.
    Sticks was there just to ensure everything went according to the time frame. He usually had these things mapped out. Eight minutes was all they had from the time they walked in until the time they reached their getaway car.
    Danielle swallowed hard. She felt sweat dripping down the sides of her face as her stomach did somersaults. The time had finally arrived. She walked slowly to the middle teller, as she was instructed. See, Sticks had found out from an insider at the bank that the middle teller didn’t have the panic button in front of her station. She would either have to lean left or right, which would tell them if she was trying to push it.
    â€œGood morning, ma’am. How can I help you today?” the teller asked, not really paying too much attention to the customer standing in front of her.
    Danielle silently pushed the slip of paper under the small opening in the glass. The teller’s eyes popped open and she looked around nervously as soon as she read the words. Now she was paying attention to the customer standing in front of her.
    The teller immediately looked left and locked eyes with Timber, who smiled at her and patted his waistband to let her know not to try anything funny. Then the teller started to notice the other members of the crew sprinkled around, sticking out like sore thumbs amongst the regular bank customers.
    â€œMa’am, how would you like your bills counted out?” she asked, trying to remain calm.
    â€œI don’t have a preference,” Danielle coolly replied.
    â€œI