Chapter 5: The Heist

Our rendezvous point was Afanja junction. It was a stone throw away from Uzo's house and right on my way to the bank. As soon as I turned the corner I saw Uzo standing by the side of the road with two duffel bags at his feet.

He was dressed in the same fashion as I was, a black suit, black shirt, a ski mask, and a pair of black Air force one sneakers. The outfit was my idea. It was meant to disguise us as bankers as we walked in before we started the operation. Not like the disguise would matter as we would be walking in with AKs.

Beneath our black shirts were white t-shirts. Therefore, by simply pulling off the jacket and the long sleeve shirt, we switched our outfits from corporate to casual.

It was a good idea, practical while also making us look good. Of course, the practicality of the first stage of the disguise relied upon us tucking in our shirt and looking like official drones of the bank we were trying to attack.

Uzo seemed to have missed the point as he had his shirt untucked, with the first three buttons undone and his cuffs loose. Basically he looked drunk and crazy, like lil Wayne in that lollipop video that blew up back in the day.

As I pulled up next to me, I took note of the fact that Uzo was a man with balls of steel. Only Uzo would stand on the roadside with two bags of weapons and dressed like a drunk tout without even flinching or worrying.

"Yooo," Uzo said in exclamation as soon as I stopped right next to me and he realised that I was the man behind the wheel of the sweet ride. "This is one sweat bitch you got here. I guess "no ass" finally turned up. Pop the trunk man."

I snickered before popping the trunk, a bit impressed by the fact that he was jovial and excited rather than a nervous wreck. I wasn't a nervous wreck but that was due to my intense concentration and endless effort at keeping my shit together. Needless to say, I was super close to losing it. I heard Uzo drop the bags into the booth with a thud and slam it shut with a loud bang.

My eyes squinted with suspicion. Something was clearly not right with him. As he opened the door and slipped into the shotgun seat, I got a waft of the source of his confidence and quickly realised that his nerves of steel were in fact nerves of mist. My nigger was fucking high.

"Uzo," I said, angrily.

"What's up my gee?" he said happily, as he turned to look at me with eyes red and glazed.

"You are high."

"No, I'm not," Uzo said, sniffing greedily as he took in a deep breath and let it out. He was clearly trying to get a little bit more, hoping that a few freckles of the powder had remained at the doorway of his nostrils.

"You are sniffing like a police dog and you smell like weed."

"I mean," he replied, head cocked to one side, shoulders raised slightly. Seeing that I wasn't giving him a pass, he tried to comport himself by adjusting his jacket. "Look men, I just needed a little bit of weed, and then I had this small sachet of coke left from a while back. I just needed to knock the edge off. You should try some too. I don't have any more coke but I got a bit of kush in one of my pockets here," Uzo said, beginning to search his pockets.

"You are insufferable," I said, starting the vehicle and beginning the trip to the bank.

Uzo stopped searching for the elusive psychedelic and relaxed. He rested comfortable in the seat of the vehicle and stared blankly ahead while I tried to drive fast but still under the speed limit.

Given the fact that Uzo was high with weed in his pocket and we had guns in the trunk of a stolen car, the last thing I needed was the attention of a cop that took his work seriously. I had to be a model driver.

My carefulness paid off as we arrived at the Imota branch of Blaze bank. I slowly brought the muscle car to a halt a few meters from the entrance to the bank. However, despite the fact that we had arrived at the bank, neither Uzo nor I was eager to get out of the vehicle and start the operation.

A few moments of silence and mental preparation was agreed upon without any words exchanged. As I stared at the entrance to the bank, keycard in my palm, I seriously considered the option of turning back.

I could literally start the vehicle again and zoom off. Driving away was the safe choice, in fact it was arguably the smart choice. I would have to tell my partners that it was off, and then I would have to deal with Uzo who wasn't going to take my decision lightly.

Knowing him, he was going to hop out of the car and try to rob the bank alone. Given the fact that he was high as a kite, his failure was all but certain. In his state, he was a kite flying in the air and I was the string keeping him grounded, his handler with limited control over him.

The more I thought about backing out, the more I realised that I couldn't. Inspector Yemi was the kind of person to hunt me down and arrest me on fabricated charges simply as revenge for dashing his hopes of becoming a millionaire.

Frank might not be a problem but one could never tell the kind of ideas people would come up with when you ruin their shot at millions of naira. The banker could find a way to get my limited funds seized, putting me in the stupid rigmarole of going to the bank every day trying to figure out why my accounts are frozen.

As I stared ahead, my heart thumping with fear, muscles tense with anxiety, I realized that there was no going back. I was way past the point of no return. I wondered when I got past that point, I wondered which moment marked the switch, when it became impossible for me to back out. I failed to zero down on the exact moment I sealed my fate and wrote "armed robber" into my near future. However, one thing was sure, the operation was already written in stone and whether I liked it or not, my very fingers contributed to the writing.

"Let's get this," Uzo said in a maniacal tone that gave me cause to worry as he pushed the door open and stepped out. The ball was already rolling, I had no choice than to roll with it. I got out of the vehicle and met Uzo behind the car. We popped the trunk open, unzipped the bags and geared up. The pistols had come with a holster that fit well on our belts. I simply attached the holster to my belt without pulling it out.

Uzo on the other hand had a different idea. He unbuckled the holster and pulled the handgun out.

"Now, that's some real steel, cold to the touch but spits fire like a dragon."

"Stop fucking around," I said as I reached into my bag of tricks and pulled out an Ak47. As soon as my hand touched the cold metallic surface of the weapon, I began to understand what Uzo was talking about.

Something about carrying the cold, somewhat heavy metal, made me feel good. It was a soothing feeling of power. In my hands was great potential for death and destruction.

In that moment, I understood why cops were sometimes trigger happy. I for one knew that in my state, I was going to take no nonsense from no fucking body. I was feeling on top of the world and I could only imagine how Uzo was feeling. The man probably had his head in the clouds.

When I looked at him, I saw him smiling wildly like a crazy man gone mad, unlocking a new level of lunacy. He kissed the weapon, as he grinned wildly and eager. I picked two duffel bags and Uzo did the same.

"Let's go," I said, shutting the booth before walking towards the bank, head bent low to avoid the cameras. "Don't forget the rules," I said as we made our way to the back of the bank. All indoor cameras within the bank were disabled after the day's work was over as banks didn't want any visual evidence of their books cooking skills.

However, the outdoor cameras were kept on and they kept revolving. Usually, a security guard watches all feeds from a desk. But on this special night of our operation, the security guard on duty was nowhere to be found. He was already at the airport, paid off by our dear friend and his boss, Frank .

We kept our heads low as we circled the bank until we were standing at the back door which was meant as a fire exit and was also used by staff members.

Standing in front of the door, the moment of truth arrived. Before us was the climax of an audacious and yet elegant plan.

"Remember bro, no shots fired. Not a single one," I said, feeling the need to remind Uzo of our rules of engagement as we stood at the precipice of villainy, about to jump and cast ourselves over to the dark side.

Uzo, high on drugs and shallow in spirit, couldn't appreciate the significance of the moment.

"Yeah, yeah. I remember all the boring shit. Let's get this party started."

"We are not firing a single shot, Uzo."

"Who said anything about shooting?"

"Your face did, asshole."

"Nigger, open the damn door and lets get this fucking money. I'm hyped," Uzo said, literally bubbling with excitement as he pulled his mask down.

I shook my head sadly as I followed suit, acutely aware of the high chance of things going south and yet realizing that there was no going back. Uzo had a gun in his hand. He was now more dangerous and also more likely to do crazy things if the train leading to his opulence did not reach its destination.

I pulled the keycard from the inner chest pocket of my suit and swiped it across the digital lock. The lock system responded with a ding and the security door slid open. Taken in a deep breath and letting it out with a heavy sigh, I took one bold and confident step into the bank, beginning the so called party with as much grace as the situation could afford.

Walking into the banking hall and standing in the middle of the space behind the counters, I watched the faces of the bankers as they stared at me, confused. It was a strange experience for them, something that had never happened before. One moment, they were pouring over numbers, the next moment they were staring at two men standing in their midst, armed to the teeth. I wondered for a split second if they knew that the situation was uncomfortable for me just as it was uncomfortable for them.

They looked so relaxed, jackets were off, ties were loose, flip flops rather than shoes disgraced their feet. They weren't bankers putting up a front for their customers, they were ordinary people grinding over numbers for a paycheck.

In their ranks was their Judas, the traitor and our ally, Frank. He was doing an excellent job of acting as surprised and confused as his coworkers. Perhaps he was, he hadn't seen the weapons in our hands before and they were enough to astonish even the fiercest of civilians.

I was busy taking in the few seconds of absolute silence, when the loud harsh voice of Uzo exploded from his lungs, shattering the silence and spreading fear throughout the room.

"Everyone on the fucking floor," he yelled, like a Birmingham gangster. The igbo boy, in his intoxicated mind, had clearly taken on the persona of a Victorian English enforcer.

Everyone under the sound of Uzo's voice, except me of course, threw themselves on to the ground, laying flat and stretching their arms forward. The women shook visibly and I could hear someone whispering words that weren't words, praying in tongues.

I chuckled. Their God, if it exists, might be more powerful than me. But he is high in heaven while I am much closer.

"Now, who the hell runs this joint," Uzo asked, clearly happy to do all the talking.

A second of fearful silence passed before one of the women pointed at Frank with shaky fingers.

"Good girl," Uzo said, grinning from ear to ear. "Alright then, let's go."

Frank, still in character, rose to his feet shaking like a leaf.

"You have something for my friend here, take him to it," Uzo said as he handed his duffel bags to Frank while I retained mine..

Frank nodded, and led the way to the vault while I followed.

Behind the closed door of the corridor leading to the vault, and out of the sight or earshot of our audience, Frank dropped his ruse.

"You guys really geared up," he said, walking briskly. He opened the vault briskly to reveal piles of cash, carefully stacked on all four tables in the middle of the vault. The walls were lined with deposit boxes and at the far right corner of the vault were ten bars of gold.

The first two tables were lined stacked with naira, the right back was for euros and pounds while the left back was for US. dollars.

Frank went for the dollars without speaking even though that wasn't part of the plan. I understood his decision. We needed to get the most out of every note taken out of the bank and dollars were the best option. Easiest to change and way more valuable than the local currency.

He began to load the cash into the bag with enthusiasm that was quite impressive and a few seconds in, I decided to join him. Getting the bags loaded as fast as possible was of utmost importance. I didn't trust Uzo to behave himself for an extended period of time.

We filled the first bag with dollars, then resolved to other local notes for the remaining three bags. We had barely filled up the fourth duffel bag when Uzo proved to be just as volatile as I feared. A bang rang through the bank, a blast that I believed would be heard throughout the entire city, calling all who care for law and justice to rise against our operation.

My eyes widened with shock as I looked to Frank to see his jaw on the floor.

"Uzo," I muttered under my breath, as I zipped the bags and equipped myself with my weapons. I grabbed one bag with my left hand, held my gun with my right and made Frank carry the remaining three bags.

I urged Frank back into the banking hall, allowing him to walk ahead of me. His feet walked even more briskly. Clearly the man was scared for his colleagues. I was scared too. I hoped with all my heart that Uzo had shot into the air.

But that is the thing about hope, she is a demonic whore. There is afterall a reason she was trapped in the pandora's box with all the other evils of the world.

We returned to the banking hall to find a man lying at Uzo's feet, face staring at the ceiling as a pool of blood formed beneath him. A rough circle of red was spreading on his chest, emanating from the entry point of the bullet that Uzo had shot at him. Uzo was standing in front of the body, AK47 slung across his shoulder while his pistol was raised. He swung from one side of the room to another, eager to shoot the next person he saw moving funny.

"What the fuck man?" I yelled.

"He came after me," I swear, Uzo said. Judging by the place where the dying man's body was lying compared to where he was when I left, it seemed Uzo wasn't lying.

However, Uzo was high as fuck. I couldn't help but suspect that his mental state played a role in the situation. Or at the very least, there were other options available such as firing a warning shot or a bullet to the leg. A chest wound was extreme, too extreme.

Judging by the look of bewilderment that switched to anger and then back to bewilderment, as if Uzo wasn't sure which emotional state to focus on, I was somewhat convinced that Uzo didn't mean to kill the man and he regretted his action. But again, I knew better than to trust the look on the face of someone high on drugs.

"We need to call an ambulance," one of the bankers said, a petite woman wearing a nice dress that revealed a good portion of her cleavage. The thought of banging her or letting Frank have his way with her crossed my mind for the shortest second. Even in the worst of situations, my dick still had opinions to share.

Frank, dropping the bags and ignoring the fact that he was meant to be in character, rushed to his phone and began to dial.

"You drop that damn phone now," Uzo yelled, pointing his weapon at Frank. His face was squeezed into a scowl. Clearly, he had abandoned bewilderment and gone with anger, a decision that I had foreseen and therefore didn't surprise me. Drop that damn phone, except you want to end up like the last man who disobeyed my orders.

Frank looked at Uzo, and then at me, as if to say "Really? you are going to let him do this." I said nothing my face gave off no emotions. Slowly, Frank dropped the phone although I was almost certain that the line had connected before he did.

"Get on the floor, you bastard," Uzo said, still scowling like a demon.

"We need to go," I said, picking up one of the bags that Frank had dropped. "Now," I ordered, as I began to leave, not bothering to point any of my weapons as Uzo was dedicated to the business of instilling fear.

"If any of you try anything stupid," Uzo said, still holding up his pistol as he grabbed the last two bags with his left hand and kept his gun trained at the bankers with his right. I didn't bother to check if he was following me as I left the bank. I couldn't care less. I opened the trunk, and threw the bags and the weapons in. Uzo followed suit and I slammed the trunk shut. We got into the vehicle and I peeled off.