Milan was used to the surge of nerves that rose in her stomach right before she committed a crime. Minor or not, it was a pattern that never failed to appear. From the time she stole a bag of cherry-flavoured candy in her local supermarket to moments before robbing a counter flooding with viridescent bills. Lifting her mask up, her gaze swept over the nine other criminals, searching for the comforting features of her brother. He shot her a tight-lipped smile from the opposite side of the trunk, that she tried to return.

She bit onto the flesh of her bottom lip, reminding herself the Professor knew exactly what he was orchestrating, and why his carefully crafted plan was certain to be a success. He had spent the last five months transmitting his knowledge onto them, and breaking down every step necessary, every possible outcome. But now that it was time to spring to action, heartbeats sped up in a frenzy.

The girl kept her cool, though, arranging the fleeting strands of her hair into a tight ponytail. She guessed the whole interaction would be easier without her vision being blurred by her locks. Her expression didn't waver, didn't let a glint of stress flash over her face. Instead, bemusement trailed over her mouth as she glanced at Tokyo, coating her lips with a striking shade of red.

Rio interrupted the silence that had settled between all of them, yanking off his Salvador Dalí mask with a hint of frustration. He held it up in front of him, mouth twisting into a frown. "Who chose these?" he asked, peering at those around him.

"What's wrong with them?" Moscow inquired, catching on the apparent disapproval lingering on the young boy's features.

"It's not scary. In every single movie, the robbers wear scary masks. Zombies, skeletons, angels of death--" Rio listed.

His mouth shut, though, as Berlin raised his gun to his head without warning. "I assure you, with a gun in hand, a nut job is scarier than a skeleton," he stated, though his way of proving a point failed to appease rising tensions.

"The heist hasn't started yet, Berlin," Milan sighed as she cocked her head towards the man, failing to hide the ghost of a smile past her lips. Milan had grown to know Berlin these past months, and to say the man was a personality would be a cruel understatement. The girl found him interesting, enjoyable at times, but that didn't mean his constant dramatics couldn't tire her down.

"Who's the guy with the moustache?" Denver asked, staring down at his mask as well.

"Dalí, son. A Spanish painter, a really good one," Moscow replied.

"A painter? A painter that... paints?" Denver echoed, equally confused by the choice of mask. "You know what's really scary? Children's cartoons. Those are scary," he voiced, though not everyone seemed to agree.

"What cartoons?"

"Goofy, Pluto, Mickey Mouse... all of those guys," Denver explained. Milan gazed down at her mask once again, scanning every detail printed on the fabric. For some reason, she found that the painter's face could trigger more chills to crawl her spine than some kid's mask.

"The mouse with the big ears is scarier?" Rio mocked.

"Yes. Want to get kicked in the nuts?" Denver spat, causing for Rio to lift his hands up, a chuckle slipping past his lips. "They're scary. Listen to me. If some bastard with a gun comes in some place with a Mickey Mouse mask on, people will think he's a psycho, that he wants to massacre everyone. You know why? Because weapons and children are two things that should never be put together. Yes or no?"

"Well, if you see it that way, it's more dangerous. More twisted," Moscow somewhat agreed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Then a Jesus mask would be terrifying. He's more innocent," Berlin jeered. Milan could feel herself losing progressive interest in the pointless conversation.

At that, the girl felt an arm softly nudge her side, and her eyes landed on Nairobi and Tokyo. The three girls held back smirks as the discussion went on, the piling up of testosterone clear to them. The team lacked women, and that was a fact. Not one of them would have waisted a second arguing over a mask for a heist.

Yet, Milan forced herself back to a state of focus as Moscow jumped out of the van, putting the plan in motion. The car would proceed to drop them off at a spot where they'd stock up on their hidden supplies. As soon as they did, Milan was the first to slip out as she stood at the front, fixing her mask onto her face and throwing her hood over her head. Some satisfaction blossomed inside of her as she held the machete between her two hands, the thrill of the plan beginning to throb inside her bones.

It was strange, how adrenaline pumped through her veins as her eyes caught the figure of two police cars driving close. Just like the Professor had explained, the cars would halt at the barbed wire on the road, and that was their chance. As soon as that happened, Milan wasted no second in striding towards the vehicle.

She yanked the door open, coming face-to-face with the police's man terrified expression as his hands shook with fear. She lifted her weapon up. "Get out. Now!" she exclaimed, her voice as sharp as the edge of a knife. The man proceeded, paralysed by anxiety as Milan slammed him against the cold metal of the car.

Then, they rounded up the police men, Berlin and Denver switching costumes with two of them. Milan aided in filling the truck with supplies, equally keeping an eye on some of the captured police, that now bore the same red jumpsuits on their skin.

Milan then hurried to change her own attire, quickly becoming a presentable lady with obsidian glasses that blurred her identity. Yet, before heading to her assigned car, a smirk spread on her lips at the sight of Denver in his costume.

"Loving the look," she teased, eyes flickering up and down his body.

"You should have told me this was what worked for you, I would have--" Denver replied, his lips twisting into a smirk before Berlin cut in.

"Quit the flirting, and get on with the plan." he scolded, grabbing the boy by the collar and guiding him to the car.

Milan rolled her eyes before joining the rest and heading to the red car along with Nairobi and Tokyo. She slipped off the tie that was holding her hair together and ran her hand along her chestnut strands. Tokyo was the one driving, and she aligned the maroon car with Berlin's truck.

"Don't take your eyes off the girl," he ordered, then switching his gaze to Milan. "There can be no mistakes." She straightened up at the words. He was right. No distractions could come meddle with her mind, as she was to execute her part of the plan with meticulous perfection. "Are we clear?"

"She's seventeen. I think I can handle her," Tokyo nodded, and as soon as she spoke those words, the group drove off.

                Milan tapped her heel lightly against the marbled floor, gaze switching between the two other girls and the majestic building that unfolded in front of her. With its alabastrine columns and impeccable design, it was almost exciting to think that would be their new home for, hopefully, a few days. And in this home would be piles of cash, waiting for their escape.

The roaring of a bus made her switch back though, and she made a small signal as her eyes set on the school bus they were supposed to watch. Where Alison Parker would come out. The key to the height's success. At the sight, Tokyo whispered into her ear piece, keeping the Professor in the loop.

Soon, the Professor would give the green light for the three of them to access the building. Suspense thickened the air around them as the seconds that followed felt dragged out into eternity. A shaky breath of relief slithered out of Milan's lips when the monosyllabic 'Now' rung in her ear piece. Rio had disabled the security system, and the rest of the gang had managed to make their way in the Royal Mint.

She motioned for the two other women to follow her lead as she clinked her way to the entry, confidence lingering every step of the way. Milan was the first in line, lightly putting her bag on the screening table, sharing a grin of success with Nairobi as she did. The thrill of the moment was only heightened as she advanced closer and closer to the metal detectors.

Right on cue, the sound of gun shots bounced off the walls of the building, followed by shrieks of panic. Milan was quick to pull out the gun that rested around her waistbands, under her shirt as well as the machete that lied in her leather bag. As a hurdle of alarmed civilians rushed towards the exit, Milan raised her weapons, urging everyone back in.

She slipped her mask back on, catching on to anyone that attempted to zoom past her and run outside. "Don't even think about it," she seethed as she caught a teenage boy that sprinted towards the door, before she caught his arm and yanked him back in place. She caught sight of her brother, also attempting to stay afloat of the chaos as he took charge.

"You missed this, didn't you?" Amsterdam chuckled as he noticed the presence of his sister.

"Don't tell me you haven't." Milan winked.

Milan felt in control as she rounded up the terrified hostages, the simple sight of her weapon putting them at her mercy. They shook in fear as Milan and Nairobi fixed eye-masks on their faces, stealing their sense of vision. Some clutched each other while others wept against their trembling hands. Tokyo finally reappeared, and Milan smiled in pride as Alison Parker figured next to her, eyes downcast. 

The thieves took off their Dalí masks in unison, peering at each other in triumph. Denver threw Milan a grin, that she was quick to return as she joined him, Rio and Berlin in the tight circle of hostages.

"First of all," Berlin began, letting his gaze sweep over every single one of the people surrounding him. "Good morning." He paused, breathing in and shutting his eyes. "I'm the one in charge now. I'll begin by offering my apologies."

Milan walked forward, following protocol as she made sure each hostage handed in their mobile as Denver asked for their PIN and name.

"I'm aware this isn't a good way to end your week. But now, all of you are here as hostages." Berlin kept his voice calm as he mouthed those words, though sobs and whimpers of fear echoed through the room following the last statement. "Follow our instructions and you'll be safe."

Milan blurred out the rest of his words, though, as her focus landed on a hostage, that failed to give his PIN. "Wh-why do you need my pin?" he stumbled over his words.

"Give me the pin or I'll beat it out of you. You decide." Denver threatened.

"One-two-three-four," the man surrendered, his hands still shaking as he voiced the numbers. At that, all three of them couldn't help but let out a laugh at the answer.

"We've got a creative one on our hands, don't we?" Milan humoured, making Rio's smile grow larger.

"Alright, moron, what's your name?" Denver asked the man.

"Arturo. Arturo Román."

"Arturo Román. Good. Arturito." Denver's adopted nickname couldn't help but trigger an amused smile on Milan's lips, before her head swivelled in Berlin's direction. It wasn't much of a surprise to her that he opted towards the women's side of the circle, trying to comfort them as he locked his hands with another.

"Please, everyone start breathing. Breathe." Berlin told the hostages as he stroked a woman's face softly. Most followed, but Milan took the opportunity of distraction to slip away, catching a red jumpsuit as she walked off.

The girl got changed in the space of a few seconds, and as she peered at her own reflection, Amsterdam walked in. If Milan was somewhere, Amsterdam was never far behind. He wouldn't let his big sister out of his sight, not for more than a few minutes.

"Everything okay?" he quizzed.

Despite no trouble having yet arose, stress still bubbled in everyone's heart. But the simple sight of her brother managed to dial down Milan's consuming thoughts that rung inside her head, reminding her of every negative outcome that could come out of the situation.

"Yeah, for now. Everything seems to be going smoothly, right?" Milan smiled lightly, gazing at her brother through the mirror.

"Berlin's already trying to seduce half the women, but yeah. It's going well." Amsterdam chuckled, though he caught on the slight crinkle of Milan's nose. Something was on her mind.

"Can you believe we're going to be everyone on TV in the following days?" The girl tried to play off on another subject, to distract herself from the echo of a soft voice at the back of her head

"You've always dreamed of fame, Mil," her brother nodded. "You'd always tell Dad how your--" Amsterdam had shifted the root of the conversation back to what was bothering her, without meaning to. The girl's nose scrunched at the phrase, backing away from the mirror.

"Let's go. Can't miss our face-to-face with the police, can we?" she beckoned, motioning for Amsterdam to follow her as she left the bathroom. It was clear his words had struck her, but anyone would be at loss as to why.

Catching on to the family echo of multiple voices, Milan and Amsterdam joined part of the team in an extra room, where every mobile hung on a wall, along with a scribbled PIN and name. Immediately, they followed Berlin's instructions as they grabbed on duffel bags, holdings together large piles of money, that'd they use to trick the police.

Milan felt a hand press softly on the small of her back as she was about to leave the room, and she smiled lightly at the presence of Denver, sending a wave of relief through her body at his touch. "Ready?" he asked.

"Always." She pulled his mask down to his face, shooting him a wink.

Nothing could go wrong, not in the minutes that followed. That was imperative. But the Professor would soon realise not everything would go according to plan, and that not all of his rules had been followed by the crew.