CHAPTER 3: LOYALTIES UNDER FIRE
Arturo's nose was bleeding when Berlin threw him to the floor in front of the hostages.
"Everyone listen up!" Berlin shouted, pacing like a wolf before a kill. "This man tried to sabotage the entire operation. He risked your lives. He didn't consult you. He didn't ask what you wanted. He acted like a hero."
He turned to face them all, smiling with teeth.
"I want you to remember this moment. Because this is the difference between you... and him."
He pointed to Arturo.
"You help us, you get rich. You betray us... you bleed."
Arturo, on his knees, looked around for support. But all he got were averted eyes.
From my vantage point, watching through the live loop Rio maintained from the Mint's hacked cameras, I noted every shift in body language. Fear was becoming something more dangerous: doubt.
I keyed into Berlin. "Don't kill him. He's more useful breathing than bleeding. Make him an example. Not a martyr."
Berlin clicked his mic twice. No words. Just acknowledgment.
I turned to Rio.
"Patch me into the Mint's PA system."
One moment later, my voice echoed through every corner of the Royal Mint.
"To all of you listening, this is The Professor.
Some of you are afraid. Some of you are angry. Some of you, right now, are dreaming of what one million euros could do for your families, your debts, your futures.
I want you to understand something very clearly: this is not about stealing. This is about evening the scales.
We are not asking you to take up arms. We are asking you to work. To do the same job you've done every day only now, you'll get paid for it in ways you never imagined.
No blood. No bullets. Just paper and ink.
But understand this: betrayal will not be forgiven. Arturo almost got some of you killed today. We're letting him live. That is a gift. One we won't repeat."
In the printing room, Nairobi cut the feed and faced her crew.
She said nothing.
She didn't have to.
They went back to work.
Outside, Raquel slammed her fist into the table.
"He's controlling the narrative," she said. "He's turning the hostages into employees."
"They're scared," Prieto said. "Fear fades. Loyalty doesn't."
"He's not building loyalty," Raquel replied. "He's buying it."
"And that's worse," said Angel, her second-in-command. "Because now the public's starting to buy it too."
On social media, the statement was trending.
#TheProfessor #MillionEuroRevolution #InsideTheMint
Evening news anchors were asking: "Are the Royal Mint robbers criminals or visionaries?"
The tide was turning.
And tides, once turned, can drown empires.
Flashback.
Berlin and I, seated in an old villa in Portugal, planning the blueprint.
"Fear won't be enough," I told him. "We need belief. We need hope. If they think we're giving them a better deal than the government ever did, they'll fight harder for us than they ever did for their country."
Berlin sipped his wine. "You want to turn a bank robbery into a movement."
"No," I said. "I want to turn it into a revolution."
Back in the Mint, Tokyo walked into the breakroom where Rio was manning the surveillance console. She dropped into the chair beside him, her shoulder grazing his.
"Rough morning?" he asked.
She didn't answer right away. She leaned back, lit a cigarette, blew smoke toward the vent.
"I've seen men like Arturo my whole life. They make messes and expect women to clean them up."
Rio watched her.
"You're not cleaning anything. You're leading."
She turned her head. Their faces were inches apart.
"You really believe in this?" she asked.
"I believe in you."
She kissed him.
Not a soft, romantic kiss.
A kiss full of adrenaline, chaos, danger. The kind of kiss you only give when the world's on fire.
Downstairs, Denver and Moscow were digging the tunnel.
Sweat soaked through their clothes. The drills roared. Moscow's hands were raw.
"You okay, viejo?" Denver asked.
Moscow grunted. "I didn't dig coal for fifteen years to die under a pile of Spanish concrete."
Denver laughed.
"Seriously," Moscow added, pausing. "You sure you're in this for the right reasons? Money's one thing. But feelings? That Tokyo girl... she's a live wire."
Denver shrugged. "We're all burning fuses, Dad. Just depends who lights us up first."
Back upstairs, Arturo was zip-tied to a pipe in the utility closet.
Alone.
He stared at the wall.
And plotted.
Because rats don't die easy.
They adapt.