She watched him go, the man she loved, she watched him walk through the door with his shoulders hunched in pain and her heart bled for him. She was shocked too, but she'd always known that this might happen, that not everyone might make it out of this alive. Not Sergio, though. She knew he'd believed – he'd truly believed – that this would be a clean operation, that nobody would suffer any serious consequences. An idealist, both the Inspector and Berlin had called him. Yes, she thought, he was that, and she loved him for it. She realized with a stab of sorrow that he would never be the same again after this.
She moved back to the screens and was just in time to see the team carry Moscow into the break room and put him on the couch. Oh no. She called them, and Nairobi explained he'd collapsed after hearing that Denver had shot the hostage. Of course, she thought. This didn't just impact Sergio, it impacted all of them. She grimaced – she couldn't even imagine how Denver must be feeling, the guy wasn't a killer, and she felt another rush of anger at Berlin for turning him into one. She realized with a sinking feeling that they would all walk away from this different people, with scars and wounds and memories they would have to live with for the rest of their lives. She'd known that – on some level she'd always known that – but it was different now that she was faced with it directly, and she felt a sick sense of dread as she wondered how much worse it was going to get.
The others left the breakroom, and after a while, she watched Denver help up Moscow and take him out of the room again. She assumed that they were going to the bathroom, but as she flipped through the other camera images, she saw Denver collect a group of hostages, and she frowned. Where was he taking them? She followed their progress through the building, mystified, as they went up floor by floor. Then there was only one floor left and she suddenly realized where they were going – but, no, that couldn't be, right? They couldn't be that stupid? Her eyes went wide as she realized that Denver was in fact that stupid, and that he was taking the hostages out on the roof, where they would be open targets for the snipers undoubtedly waiting for them on the buildings across the street.
Firmly suppressing a growing feeling of panic, she quickly picked up the phone and called the breakroom. Nairobi came in and picked up.
"Yes?"
"Denver is taking hostages out on the roof!" Raquel said urgently.
"What? Why?!"
"I don't know, just stop him!"
Nairobi put down the phone and ran out of the room. Raquel could only look on helplessly as she watched the hostages realize, too, where they were going, then one of them started arguing with Denver – Arturo Román, she realized, the director of the Mint, who was probably feeling deeply hostile towards Denver after Mónica's death. Raquel watched the argument with bated breath, afraid that it might get out of hand. A minute later, thankfully, Nairobi came into view, shouting at Denver, and Raquel breathed a sigh of relief: the situation was under control now. Nairobi was gesturing furiously at Denver, and though Denver was arguing back, Raquel trusted that Nairobi wouldn't let them step out onto the roof under any circumstances.
Then a movement from one of the hostages caught her eye and she immediately tensed again: Arturo Román clearly decided to make use of Denver's distraction, and to Raquel's horror, he suddenly made a grab for Denver's gun – her fingernails were digging into her palms – there was a struggle – her breathing stopped – the hostages on the screen were panicking – then suddenly the gun went off and Román fell to the floor and lay horribly still.
Raquel could only stare at the screen, numb. No.
Denver kneeled down next to Román and shook him. No.
Moscow was leaning against the wall, his hand pressed to his chest. No.
There was a ringing in her ears. This couldn't – this couldn't be happening. Not another one, please not another one.
On the screen, other members of the team came running, drawn by the sound of the gunshot. To Raquel's infinite relief, she suddenly saw Román stir, and he was picked up by Oslo and Helsinki and carried into the breakroom, where Nairobi picked up the phone. Raquel scrambled to do the same, connecting her to Nairobi.
"He needs a doctor!" she yelled immediately. "We can't have another dead hostage, goddammit, get us a doctor now!"
"I will", Raquel said, pushing away her fear and shock as she felt a strong sense of purpose come over her, and with it a feeling of focus and calm. She knew what she had to do.
She put down the phone and immediately picked it up again to dial the number of the command center. Inspector González answered at the first ring.
"Hello, Professor."
Raquel didn't correct her – she knew the voice software would conceal her voice completely, making her sound exactly like the Professor, and she thought it better if the police didn't know that the team had two people on the outside. She lost no time.
"A hostage has been shot", she said. "He's alive but hurt. I need a medical team in the Mint immediately."
"You shot a hostage?" Elena said, alarmed.
"It was an accident, he grabbed at a gun. Medical team, now!"
"Send him out", the Inspector demanded. "So we can treat him properly."
Raquel grimaced at the thought of letting one of their most important hostages go if it wasn't absolutely necessary. She'd send him out if she had to, but not without a fight.
"No, it wouldn't be safe to move him", she said.
"Are you a doctor now?" the Inspector snapped. "How could you know that?"
"Are you willing to risk it?" Raquel said heatedly. "My team has no experience in moving injured people, do you want him to die on his way to the ambulance?"
"Then let me send in the paramedics with a stretcher so they can move him safely."
"We're not letting in a bunch of people with equipment that might conceal weapons. Send in a medical team, no more than three people, small bags of equipment only."
"He'd still get much better treatment if you…"
"Inspector!" Raquel said sternly. "Every second you argue, a man is losing blood!"
"Fine", the Inspector said curtly, "Fine, I'll send in a medical team. But what do I get in return?"
Raquel's eyebrows went up. "What you get is a hostage who won't die on your watch!"
"If I'm not mistaken, he's dying on your watch. And I don't think you want that at all – you want a victimless crime, right? Moreover, you want to keep public opinion on your side. Do you think that will happen if he dies?"
Raquel cursed silently at Elena's accurate assessment of the situation.
"So I want something in return for sending in the medical team", the Inspector continued. "There's a woman among your hostages who's eight months pregnant – she shouldn't be in this situation. Let her go."
Raquel hesitated, thinking fast. She'd been feeling uncomfortable about the pregnant woman, and she was tempted to send her out, but a released hostage would be able to give the police important information. She bit her lip – no, she would have to use a different strategy. She knew Sergio had been keeping this a secret so it could be used against the police at some point, but she felt like she had no choice but to play this card now.
"Inspector", she said firmly, "you should know that I'm recording this conversation. If you refuse to send in the medical team, I will leak it to the press and all of Spain will know that you refused to save a hostage."
There was a pause on the other side of the line, and Raquel held her breath. Then…
"The medical team will be there asap."
…
Sergio drew his bike up to the curb beside the hangar, feeling haggard and exhausted and numb. He'd spent much of the drive back to Madrid thinking about Raquel's suggestion to remove his brother from command. Of course she didn't know Berlin was his brother, and he felt like that was a good thing: it meant that her view of the situation was more objective than his own. He feared that his vision on the matter was clouded by feelings of personal loyalty – see, this was why there shouldn't have been any personal relationships between the members of the team. How could he know if he was only keeping Berlin in charge because he was his brother or because he truly felt that he was the most capable person for the job? On the other hand, he still believed that Berlin was the most likely to stay loyal to him if things went wrong, specifically because they had a personal bond. And then there was the plan: he'd never envisioned the possibility that his brother would have to be removed from command, so he had no plan B in place, and the consequences of removing him could be so far-reaching. He couldn't just make an impulsive decision about something so important, he needed to think it through, weigh the pros and cons, maybe sleep on it, because he felt like he wasn't thinking straight anymore.
He hesitated outside the door of the hangar. He didn't want to go back in – he wanted to take Raquel and go back to the house in Toledo, turn back the clock to a simpler time, a time when he'd been hopeful and happy, before he had this atrocity on his conscience, before his brother became a murderer. Things would never be that simple again, he knew, and the thought filled him with a desperate sadness. How could he face Raquel again after this? He'd promised her – right from the beginning he'd promised her – that nobody would suffer because of this heist, that nobody would be harmed, and he'd let her down so horribly. How would she look at him now? What could he find in her eyes except reproach and disappointment?
He took a deep breath and opened the door. The moment he stepped over the threshold, he knew something was wrong.
"What happened?" he asked, hurrying up to her.
She turned to him and the look on her face made him freeze.
"What happened?" he repeated in a whisper.
"It… it will probably be alright, Sergio, but… another hostage has been shot."
The world around him reeled alarmingly, and he had to put a hand on the table to steady himself.
"Dead?"
"No", she hastened to clarify, "but pretty badly wounded."
"I have to call the command center", he said dazedly, reaching for his headset. "We need a medical team."
"I already did that", she said. "The medical team is on its way."
He looked up sharply. "You called the command center?"
"Yes."
He felt a spark of hot, irrational anger strike inside him, igniting all the frustration and pain and panic that was already there.
"I told you you shouldn't talk to the police, Raquel!"
"I know, but the situation…"
"Do you understand the risk you took? If the voice software had malfunctioned for even a second, Angel would have recognized your voice! How could you be so reckless?"
She stood up now, angry. "Sergio, you do understand that a man is bleeding to death in there? I had no choice!"
"You always have a choice!"
"I'm not letting someone die because…"
"Raquel!" he cut her off. "Keeping you safe is more important than anything else!"
"This isn't about keeping me safe!" she yelled. "This is about you not wanting to surrender even an ounce of control to anyone else!"
"That's not true", he said defensively. "I left you in charge just now."
"To keep an eye on the cameras, yes, but I'm not allowed to do anything important. You don't trust me! It can't work that way, Sergio, if I'm here alone I need to be able to act when necessary!"
He glanced at the screens. "The medical team is entering."
They both turned to the camera images, where they saw several members of the team pointing guns at the people who were entering. Suddenly Raquel caught her breath.
"That's Angel!"
Sergio looked up sharply. "Are you sure?"
"Zoom in!"
He did so, and she nodded. "Yes, it's him, I'm sure!"
He straightened slowly, his anger and frustration fading away as he was flooded with a deep feeling of satisfaction.Yes… yes! He was right, he knew it would happen! He punched the air with a fierce sense of triumph. Finally something was going right again! Beside him, Raquel looked decidedly less enthusiastic, but he didn't really notice it as he quickly picked up the phone and called the Mint. Berlin answered.
"There's a police officer entering with the doctors."
"Which one?"
"The one with the glasses. You know what to do. And Berlin, this needs to be handled perfectly."
Berlin nodded and put down the phone, then marched to the entrance hall. Sergio and Raquel watched with bated breath as a mic was placed in the glasses of an unsuspecting Angel. The medical team set up their material as Román was brought out, then they watched as the doctors removed the bullet. Finally, Román was patched up and the medical team left again, including Angel. Sergio felt a surge of excitement as he turned on the radio connected to the mic. For a moment, nothing happened, but then they heard the voice of the Inspector, loud and clear.
"How is the hostage?"
"He'll be fine", Angel said.
Oh, this was amazing, this was fantastic, this was the best thing that could possibly happen to them and the police had no idea. He turned to Raquel with shining eyes and a broad grin, but she was frowning at the radio, and his smile faded.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just…", she said, grimacing. "Well, we assumed at some point someone would try to infiltrate and we might be able to plant a bug on him, I just… I just hadn't thought that it might be Angel."
He felt a stab of annoyance, though the told himself her reaction was understandable. "I know he was your colleague, Raquel, but this is a great thing for us."
"I know", she said. "I know."
"We talked about doing this", he said softly. "You agreed it was a good idea."
She sighed. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
He nodded. "That's true. I respect that."
She gave him an uneasy look. "It's just… Angel could get into real trouble for this. If they start suspecting him, he'll get fired."
"It's a sacrifice we'll have to make. This could be vital for the success of the operation."
"I know", she said, and he could see her shake off her unease. "You're right, this is a great thing for us. And about time, too – we needed a win after today."
He flinched, suddenly reminded of the thing that had been driven out of his mind by the excitement surrounding the medical team. Dead, dead, dead. He took a deep breath – no, no, he couldn't think of that now, he had to push it aside, he had to focus, focus. With an effort of will, he directed his attention entirely to the radio to hear Angel describe what he had seen inside, which wasn't that much, but it served to keep Mónica from his mind. A little later, he went out to get them food, then they spent the evening listening in on what was happening in the command center and keeping an eye on the screens. After a while, most people in the tent went home and Angel and Elena seemed absorbed in reading, because they could only hear background chatter, nothing distinguishable. Sergio relaxed a bit, then glanced guiltily at Raquel.
"I'm sorry for shouting at you earlier. Of course you did the right thing calling the command center to ask for that medical team."
She nodded. "Thank you."
"I'm… I'm not myself today."
"I understand", she said softly. "Sergio…"
He grimaced. "Please don't."
"We have to talk about it."
He shook his head. "Please, not… not right now."
"You can't deal with this alone, you have to…"
He held up his hand. "They're talking again."
On the radio, Angel and Elena were discussing the files they'd read. Raquel and Sergio listened intently, but heard nothing of particular interest. Finally they heard the Inspector say:
"You should go home, Angel, you're tired."
"Yes, you're right."
They heard Angel get up, then he said:
"You should go home too, Elena."
"No", she said, "I'm going to go over these files again, there may be something I've missed."
"Then I should stay too."
"No", she said, "you need to sleep."
"You need to sleep too at some point."
"I'll sleep for a few hours in the other tent."
"A few hours isn't enough. Who knows how much longer this will take?"
"Not that much longer if I can help it."
"Still…"
"Angel", she said firmly, "Go home."
Angel left the tent, meaning they wouldn't hear anything worth hearing anymore, so they turned off the radio.
"She's overworking herself", Sergio said. "Good. The more tired she is, the more likely it is that she'll make a mistake."
Raquel hesitated. "She doesn't seem like the kind of person who makes a lot of mistakes."
"Everyone makes mistakes. She's making a mistake right now by not sleeping."
Raquel threw him a sharp glance. "Does that remind you of someone, by any chance?"
He looked at her, confused. "Who?"
"You, Sergio! You've been awake for 40 hours straight and you criticize her for not sleeping?"
He fidgeted, knowing she was right. His eyes were burning, his head was fuzzy, his body was aching. But if he stopped focusing on the heist, what thoughts would invade his mind instead?
Raquel shot him a soft look. "Go to bed, Sergio."
"I… I don't think I'll be able to sleep."
"At least put on your pajamas and try."
He did as she said. As he undressed, he tried to clear his mind of all thoughts, to focus only on his breathing, but now that the chatter on the radio wasn't filling his head anymore, the events of the day came crashing back to him mercilessly. Her eyes, her frightened eyes. I've killed a hostage, he heard his brother say again, Mónica Gaztambide. As he buttoned up his pajamas his hands started shaking again as he relived that moment. He felt like there was a darkness gathering all around him, obscuring his vision, and no matter where he looked, he could see no way out. She was dead, she would never live again. She would never smile or see the sun again. She'd died, alone and afraid, because twenty years ago, he'd had an idea and he'd allowed it to consume him. He'd been blinded by his own cleverness, unable to see beyond the abstract perfection of his plan to the possible human cost behind it. The darkness around him intensified until he couldn't bear it anymore – he sank down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He'd never felt so lost.
He heard her get up from behind the desk, then she kneeled down before him and gently pulled his hands away from his face.
"Sergio", she said softly, "it wasn't your fault."
"She must have been so scared", he whispered.
For a moment, he saw his own sorrow and anguish reflected in her eyes.
"I know", she said. "I know, my love, and it's horrible, but you can't blame yourself. This was Berlin's doing."
"But who put Berlin in charge?"
"You did that with the best of intentions. You didn't know that he was capable of… of this."
"No", he whispered. "I had no idea."
"So this isn't your fault."
He looked down at his hands. "Raquel. This is my operation. I planned all of this, I put it in motion, I chose to execute it. If I hadn't done that, this woman would still be alive. There's no denying that. An innocent person died, and what for? Not even for money – I don't care about the money. She died because I had a brilliant idea and I wanted to see if it would work. So just because it isn't my fault doesn't mean it isn't my responsibility. Because it is. Ultimately, I'm the one to blame. I killed her."
Tears were burning behind his eyes, tears of guilt and helplessness and exhaustion. She was quiet and he didn't dare look up at her, afraid of what he would see in her eyes, afraid that it would be accusation or horror or disgust. How could she ever look at him the same way again? What would she think of him now? The darkness pressed in, weighing on him like a heavy blanket. Would she – could she still love him after this?
"If you want to leave, I understand", he whispered. It took all the strength he had to say it, but he felt like he owed her that, at least.
"Leave?" she said sharply. "Why would I leave?"
"You never signed up for this", he said, still looking down. "You trusted me when I promised you nobody would get hurt. I failed you, I failed you so badly. I'm not the man you thought I was, I allowed this to happen, and now… now I have blood on my hands. You'd be perfectly within your rights to walk away. You'd be perfectly right to love me less."
She took his face between her hands and made him look up at her. He was struck by the expression in her eyes. He'd never seen her so serious.
"Sergio", she said. "I don't love you less. You're not capable of doing anything that would make me love you less. I see you. I know who you are, and you are not a killer. Questions of guilt and responsibility are so complex, my love. How far back in the chain of events can we go to assign blame? Is the manufacturer of a gun to blame if that gun is used to kill people? This operation was created by you, yes, but the moment we set it into motion it took on a life of its own, and the people involved make autonomous decisions that are beyond your control. To what point, then, are you to blame? As far as I see it, it's our intentions that count more than the unintended consequences of our actions. Nobody can foresee those… not even you."
"But I should have foreseen this, Raquel. The choices I made clearly had the potential of harming others, and I made them anyway. That makes me responsible."
She nodded thoughtfully. "In a way. And yet, so many of our actions have the inherent potential of causing harm. Every time I get into my car, I have the potential of hitting someone with it. It doesn't mean I shouldn't do it."
"It's a question of degree, though. The possibility that someone would get hurt in this operation was very high."
"But that's where this gets so tricky", she said. "How much risk are you allowed to take before something becomes your fault? Where's the line between innocent and guilty? I'm not saying you're entirely blameless, Sergio. But maybe there's a grey area between complete innocence and complete guilt, and I think that's where you're at. So by all means, my love, take part of the responsibility for this, but don't take on more than you deserve. You didn't give that order. You didn't pull that trigger. You didn't kill that woman."
He looked into her eyes and he saw complete conviction there, nothing but trust and acceptance and love. Why was she so good to him? What had he done to deserve her? This stupid heist had obscured his vision, but he suddenly saw her clearly again. His partner, his love. Raquel. She was his beacon, his north star, a brilliant, shining light guiding him back to himself, and he felt the darkness around him retreat in the blaze of her presence. She didn't shrink from him, she didn't walk away – she was right here beside him braving the storm, and he was overcome by an all-consuming gratitude that made him take her hands and kiss them.
"What would I do without you?" he whispered. "What would I do without you, Raquel?"
Tears were beginning to slide down his cheeks. She pulled him close and he finally allowed her to hold him, her warmth and nearness an inexpressible comfort to him as he cried.
"My love", she said softly. "You're so exhausted. You're so, so tired. You have to sleep now, please, you have to."
"I don't know if I can", he said, his voice cracking. "I keep seeing her face."
"Then let me give you something to help you sleep. You can't keep going like this, Sergio, you need rest."
He shook his head. "I can't take a sleeping pill, then you won't be able to wake me if something happens."
"Whatever happens", she said, "I can handle it."
"No, I should…"
"Sergio", she said firmly. "I can handle it."
She got up and came back with a glass of water and a little white tablet, which she held out to him.
"Take it."
He shot an anxious look at the screens.
"It's evening", she said. "The hostages are sleeping, the police have gone home. It will be fine."
When he still hesitated, she sat down next to him on the bed.
"Sergio", she said softly. "You can't do this alone. You can't be in control all of the time. You're going to have to trust me."
He looked into her eyes, so calm, so steady. He'd always faced the world alone, he'd never had anyone but himself to really count on, and he suddenly realized that he hadn't made the mental shift yet to truly comprehend that that was no longer the case. But he felt it now, he felt it so deeply. He wasn't alone anymore – he would never be alone again – she would always be by his side and he would always be by hers, come what may. The realization was so profoundly moving, so world-changing, that he was unable to speak.
She held the tablet out to him again and asked: "Do you trust me?"
"With my life", he whispered, then he took the tablet and swallowed it.
He could clearly see the relief in her eyes. "Thank you."
He pulled her closer to him and leaned his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for several long moments, their eyes closed, just connecting. Then they broke apart and he put his hand against her cheek.
"I love you", he said. "I may not always show it, but it will always be true."
She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. "I love you too. Now and always. No matter what."
He nodded. "No matter what."
"And now you really have to sleep, my love."
He got under the blankets, then looked up in surprise as she kicked off her shoes and joined him.
"No", he protested weakly, "you should go and watch the screens."
She shook her head. "I'm staying with you. Just for a moment. Just until you're asleep."
The next moment, she was in his arms, and he wanted to cry with the sheer, utter bliss of it. Holding her close, feeling her body nestle itself against his, her warmth, her scent – it all soothed him so much more than any sedative ever could, and he finally allowed himself to surrender to his exhaustion as he slowly felt his tension fade away.
"Raquel?" he murmured.
"Yes?"
"I'm so grateful you're here."
She hugged him even closer, and the last thing he was aware of was a warm glow of thankfulness as he drifted off to sleep in her arms.
…
She waited until she was sure he was fast asleep, then she carefully disengaged from him, got up and returned to the desk, a grim expression on her face. She picked up the phone and pressed the button for the Mint. On the screen, Tokyo walked into the breakroom and answered.
"Tokyo", Raquel said. "I need to talk to Berlin."
"He's sleeping."
"I don't care, wake him up."
Tokyo left, and a few minutes later a rather sleepy-eyed Berlin appeared and took up the phone.
Raquel lost no time.
"Do you have any idea what you've done to him?"
"Now listen, Lisbon…"
"No", she cut him off, her voice fierce but low, so she wouldn't disturb Sergio. "You listen to me. I don't know what kind of power game you're playing, but you will stop it right now. This heist isn't an opportunity for you to show that you have the biggest dick in town. You endangered the entire operation today, you made a murderer out of an innocent man and you hurt the man I love, and I tell you I will not stand by idly for more of this. If you do something like this again, Berlin, I swear to god I will personally make sure you won't live to enjoy your money after this is all done, and that's a promise."
He grinned broadly. "Don't bother, love, I won't have much time to enjoy my money anyway."
"What does that mean?"
"That my own muscles are killing me. Saves you the trouble."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I've got myopathy. Genetic, incurable. I'll be dead within the year."
That made her fall quiet, stunned.
He raised his eyebrows. "But if you want to keep yelling at a dying man, go ahead."
"Are you making this up?"
He snorted. "I wish."
She hesitated, feeling her fury evaporate as she took in this new information. Then it suddenly hit her that he was only telling her this to manipulate her, and her anger flared again.
"Just because you're dying doesn't give you the right to decide over other people's life and death, you fucking psychopath!"
He looked up at the camera, a challenging look. "In here, Lisbon, I'm in charge."
"I outrank you, Berlin, and don't you forget that."
"You're out there, though. What are you going to do to stop me?"
She felt a cold fury like she'd never felt before. She knew he couldn't see her, but she leaned closer to the screen anyway, her voice carefully controlled as she said:
"One more misstep, Berlin. One more wrong move like this, and I will call Helsinki and Oslo, and I will order them to tie you up, blindfold and gag you and put you in an isolated room for the rest of this heist. Don't think I won't."
"You think they will listen to you over me?"
"They will if they want their share of the money. Don't make the mistake of thinking their loyalty to you is stronger than that."
"Who would you put in charge instead?"
"Nairobi", she said without hesitation.
He nodded appreciatively. "Good choice."
"This is not a game, Berlin!"
He shook his head. "No, I realize you're deadly serious."
"You bet I am. One more toe out of line and you're done. Do I make myself clear?"
He straightened his shoulders, and she suddenly realized that this was the kind of language he respected.
"You do", he said. "I'll stick to the plan."
"Good", she said coldly, then she hung up.
On the screen, she watched him smile and leave, and she kept staring at the empty room as she felt her anger drain away. So Berlin was dying. Only yesterday, that information would have made her feel sorry for him, but right now she couldn't manage even a shred of sympathy. She felt so empty. Even if Berlin stuck to the plan now, she had a feeling that this heist was going to cost them more than they were willing to pay, that it would have consequences they hadn't foreseen and weren't prepared for, that it might hurt them in ways they couldn't recover from. She turned in her chair to look at Sergio, finally sleeping, and she felt a fierce surge of resolve. No. She wouldn't let this destroy him, she wouldn't let this destroy them. They were stronger than this, they would get through this, together, scarred and bleeding maybe, but goddammit they would see that beach. He would take her hand and they would watch the sunset together and all of this would just be a nightmare, chased away by the wind in the palm trees, by barefoot walks and kisses by starlight. They would have all of that and more. A life beyond anything she'd ever dreamed of, almost within reach. Almost. Just nine more days. Nine more days, and it would be theirs.
