Happy Hump Day, crime humpsters! It's that time again ... time to take a trip to the dark side, where your most hardboiled fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.
In chapter 8 from THE HEISTERS, we flash back to before the robbery, where Kelsey and the gang continue to plan the heist. On tap today, transportation ...
EXT. DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES - WAREHOUSE DISTRICT - NIGHT
A giant abandoned brick warehouse in the shitty part of East Los Angeles.
Barren. Desolate. Not a soul to be seen.
Even the rats have split.
The dry run had gone well.
It was just as Ronan said it would be.
The job was starting to shape up nicely.
INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
Kenny, DeLuca, Aber, Garza and Jones sit around
a crude table built with planks on saw horses.
Kelsey sits at the head of the table.
Lights a cigarette. Thinking. Watching them.
We had found the drivers
through Ronan’s connections.
We wanted new blood.
Guys who didn’t have that much of a rap sheet,
but who had good reps. Solid. Reliable.
But not the usual wheelmen the cops
would round up after the job was done.
And I wanted guys who could jack clean vehicles in a hurry --
I still don’t get why we have to stay here.
The joint is filthy --
there’s all kinds of cockroaches and rats and shit.
It’s just for a couple of days until we do the job.
Yeah, but this place is --
If you want out, now is the time to say so.
We’ll need to find a replacement.
Don’t be such a fucking pussy.
We got tents and sleeping bags.
Think of it like summer camp.
You want to save your fucking restaurant or what?
Alright, alright --
Then it’s settled. Enough kibitzing.
It’s time to talk transportation.
We’re gonna need four vehicles --
Yeah. How come?
First we need an ambulance.
And then a car small enough to fit into it.
And the other two vehicles?
We need a small truck,
and then another car we can fit in it --
Nice, huh? We do the job with the two smaller cars,
then hide them immediately in the bigger vehicles.
Fucking cool. I like it.
Yeah. It’s like outta some movie or some shit.
Why do you think I brought her on board?
She’s the master at this shit.
Kelsey nods. A smile flies across her lips. Then disappears.
But we’ve got our work cut out for ourselves.
It’s Wednesday night,
and we have two days to get our shit together.
Not a problem. I can get BOTH cars tomorrow.
You know where to get some clean plates?
Does my man Tiger got wood?
Too much information.
Can you get us the truck and the ambulance?
Does a crack whore shit in The Hood?
We gotta couple more comedians.
Keep this up, and we can go on tour.
(to Kasper and Jefty)
If you can get the vehicles by tomorrow,
that would be great.
Be nice to have some extra time
to outfit the insides and make adjustments.
I’ve learned the hard way
it’s best not to wait until the last minute.
If you rush, the job turns to mush.
So how did you get in the business?
Hot dame like you --
That’s none of your fucking business.
She’s just like us, a pro, on a job.
Leave the personal shit out of it, okay?
It’s okay. I’m used to it --
She stands. Starts walking around the table. Smoking.
Looking at each of them. Eyes on fire.
My parents jacked banks.
When I was thirteen, they got killed on a job.
(shakes her head)
They tried to take out a downtown
Wells Fargo all by themselves.
My dad’s brother took me under his wing.
As luck would have it,
he was the one of the best heisters on the west coast.
Taught me everything I know.
I like to think it’s oddly poetic
that I continued the family business.
But I don’t do banks. Ever.
That shit will get you killed.