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They headed toward the Bronx, moving through the neighborhoods of Washington Heights and Inwood, and crossing over the Broadway Bridge.
Two
Kip Kane climbed out of the Expedition on West 225th Street in the Bronx. He told his crew to wait there and walked alone into the Marble Hill Housing Projects. With the shopping center and Applebee’s right across the street, the road was swamped with afternoon traffic and pedestrians. Kip wasn’t worried entering an unfamiliar housing project. Leaving his pistol in the truck, he showed no trepidation as he walked toward his destination with his head held high. The area was flooded with local goons and police. Kip couldn’t risk having a stop-and-frisk implemented on him. NYPD patrolled the area heavily because it was close to a shopping area and a few eateries.
He entered the building lobby, stepped into the pissy elevator, and pushed for the eighth floor. He ascended alone. The bell soon chimed, and the doors opened. Kip stepped out into the narrow hallway and made his way toward apartment 8E. He knocked twice and waited coolly. Soon, the apartment door opened, and a woman appeared. She was in her early forties with tan skin and blonde dreadlocks. She was dressed conservatively for the spring weather, wearing a vibrant, printed maxi-dress and some embellished thong sandals. Stepping to the side, she invited Kip inside.
Kip entered the large, neatly furnished apartment. The woman was living large in the projects, with a 90-inch TV, Italian furniture, and high-end stereo system. Kip removed a bulging white envelope filled with hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and handed it to her. In return, she handed him an envelope, but it was thinner than his.
Kip checked the contents and was satisfied. He had three tickets to the Nets against the Hawks that night. The seats were only a few rows behind the floor seats at the Barclays Center, Section 24. It was a costly area. She came correct for him.
“We okay?” she asked him.
“Oh, we good. These will do,” he said.
His business completed, Kip turned and marched out of the woman’s apartment.
He soon climbed back into the truck with his boys and said, “We’re good tonight. We in the house.” He showed them the tickets, and each man smiled. The game started at 8:30, and they wanted to get there early.
To kill some time, the men went to eat at Junior’s on Flatbush Avenue and went over the
ir plan for the night. Kip had gotten good intel that a lot of NBA players were going to frequent a certain nightclub in the city. He wanted to know the name of the club. The trio ate and enjoyed themselves at Junior’s and ordered their famous cheesecake.
While dining on dessert, Papa John suddenly said, “Yo, you remember when Puffy made them fools from Making the Band walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn for some fuckin’ cheesecake?”
“I ain’t watch that stupid shit,” Devon said quickly.
“Yeah, fuckin’ idiots! And for that faggot! Yo, Puffy would have gotten got for that stunt, fo’ real,” Kip said. “He got too much money to keep it all for himself.”
Papa John added, “They probably sucked his dick for a record deal.”
They all laughed.
Soon, it was going to be time for them to get down to business.
***
It was the second quarter of the game, and the Barclays Center was erupting in cheers and boos as the Nets battled it out with the Hawks in a fast-paced game. The crowd at the Barclays Center was loud and fierce. Almost everyone was standing from their seats, their attention held by the game. The Nets were down by four, but it was a good game and a close game. Jason Miller was in control and dominating Lamar Patterson on the court, and the arena was screaming out his name. He was worth the millions he was being paid. The spectators watched as the Nets applied full-court pressure on the Hawks.
Seated in Section 24, only a few rows behind the floor seats, were Kip, Devon, and Papa John. They watched the game and cheered for the Nets, but they were really watching certain players intently. It was amazing—nothing but millionaires dribbling a basketball up and down the court and entertaining the large crowd.
Kip thought about these players’ endorsement deals, million-dollar contracts, and the exotic cars they drove. He wanted that same wealth for himself. He wasn’t born with talent and towering height like most of these players. He had to rely on his wits and bravado to get paid. The boys politicked with a few people in the crowd, especially the moneymakers, and pretended to be like them—sheep—when they were really wolves lurking for their next big score.
The arena erupted in a thunderous roar as Jason Miller executed a 360-degree dunk over a lone Hawks player, tying the game before halftime.
Kip and his cronies lifted themselves from their seats and followed the crowd toward the concession stands. It would be fifteen minutes before the next half started. After spending a small fortune on hot dogs, chips, and sodas, they returned to their seats and were ready for the next half to start. Kip had what he needed: information on tonight’s after-party and the location where most of the NBA players were going to be partying. Club Revolt in midtown Manhattan was the place to be after the game.
The fourth quarter was winding down, the Nets trailing by four points again. The Nets had possession with twenty seconds left on the playing clock. Their point guard Donald Sloan brought the ball up court and attempted a three-pointer but missed. Jason Miller grabbed the rebound and followed up with a slam dunk.
The crowd went wild.
There was now ten seconds left in the game, and Atlanta had the ball. Jeff Teague threw a chest pass to Kyle Korver, but Jason Miller came out of nowhere and intercepted the pass and threw up a hasty three-pointer, sinking it just before the buzzer sounded.
Barclays Center erupted with deafening cheers. The Nets had won, and the team went berserk, and so did every fan in the building. It was a great game and a needed win for the Nets to keep their playoff hopes alive.
Kip and his crew didn’t stick around for the celebration. They left right after the final seconds and headed toward the Expedition. Kip wanted to get to the club early. He didn’t want his victims to see him coming.
***
