A/N: This is a new story and a new way of writing for me as this story will be under Emma's POV for most of the tale. In some parts it may be under Regina's or other members of OUAT (not sure yet). This ff is loosely based off of the movie The Town with Ben Affleck. I hope I do it justice and that all of my followers and fans enjoy the interpretation of the first chapter. Happy reading! :)
Charlestown. To you it may be just another deadbeat-shit town, but to me… It was home.
It wasn't the most luxurious town in the state of Boston. Shit- it wasn't luxurious at all. But it's where I grew up and it's where my family was from. Now, by family, I don't mean a mom or a dad. Sure, I had a mom and dad. I spent years living under my dad's shadow as the greatest thief in history.
That's right. Other kids had the luck of their dad's teaching them about fishing, or camping, or how to toss a ball once in a while. Me? I was taught a family trait.
Fuck. I knew how to high-jack a car by age thirteen. That was my birthday gift from my dad. Classy, right?
Say what you want about my old man, but to me he was the best. Shit, David Nolan deserved a Father of the Year Award for putting up with my ass ever since him and my mom adopted me. Now, I know what you're thinking: Why would the world's greatest thief want with adopting a cute little blonde girl?
He wanted to be a father. And he was. David Nolan was one hell of a father.
Sure, he wasn't a teacher, or a lawyer, or a doctor, but the things I know… You can't learn from anyone but the best.
He even let me change my name to something symbolic- something mine. My name's Emma, by the way. Emma Swan. Now, I'm no David Nolan, but I have some fucking tricks up my sleeve, you would never even see coming.
And this… Is my story…
Boston. Home of the Red Sox. Who doesn't like baseball, am I right? But as much as I love it, I'm not here to talk to you about fucking baseball. I'm here to tell you my story. Not all the way through my childhood, but, of one specific day. A day that changed my life forever.
Me and my crew (my family) or my boys- as I liked to call them, were planning our next robbery. When you go against an armored truck, you gotta have a crew. You'd have to be stupid to go at it alone. Unless you're some type of comic book villain.
The older I became, the more I thought. We have to hit something bigger. That was the way to go. So, as leader of my crew, I decided: Why not go for banks? Or in this case armored cars.
Driver's name was Arthur Shea. Former Medford police officer, fifty-seven years old. As soon as his partner leaves with the coal bag Robin cracks the "Harold" and he doesn't look up till the guy gets back.
Marty McGuire, commons armor courier. 5'10", 220, fifty-two years old. Picks up every Wednesday and Friday at exactly 8:12, makes a $110 a day, carries a Sig 9. And they're about to get robbed.
Me and my crew have been planning this for a while. That's what it takes to make sure a robbery comes out with flying fucking colors. You plan. Now you wouldn't believe me if I told you, but take my word for it- sitting inside a van while you wait to make your move, it's fucking stifling. But, it's part of the job.
"Alright, listen up," I said, my eyes glancing in every direction as I instructed two newcomers. "We're fucked if we see a helicopter. We're fucked if we see Swat. If we see a cruiser- stop. Take out the engine blocks, keep moving. No one needs to get hurt."
I glared, just in case any of my boys wanted to get out of line. I could see the fear and nerves ooze out of their eyes, but shit, when you're in this- you're in this. There was no time for fucking fear. My attention soon turned to Robin, who was like a brother to me. Him and I, we grew up together.
"Now, these guards like to test you, though," his blue eyes glared, his tone matter-of-factly. "If they want to get hurt for ten dollars an hour, don't get in the way."
Reckless fuck. That was Robin for you. He followed rules, until he didn't. Robin Locksley loved to strike fear in people. He loved the adrenaline of it all- who didn't? Even I loved the adrenaline that came with a new heist, but I wasn't about to get myself fucking killed over it like Robin was.
I always told him, 'Watch yourself, Locksley. One of these days… You will be so reckless, you will get yourself killed.'
He didn't give a shit.
So, what do I do? I just sat there, took it in, looked at the two newcomers and said, "Let's go."
Hey, until you deal with someone as reckless and as crazy as Robin- you are in no position to judge the fuck out of me. To my judgement, as long as he didn't fuck shit up for us, that was good enough for me.
We all stepped out of our borrowed orange van, moving quickly toward the BRINKS armored truck, where our dear Arthur read the paper. While his partner entered the First National Bank, rolling in a bag with money like any typical day.
Even I fooled you. Because we weren't going after the armored truck. We were going for something bigger.
As soon as the glass doors to the bank parted with Arthur's partner walking right in, Robin ran ahead of me, striking the old fool in the back of the head with his weapon of choice. A MK-47.
LIke I said, he was a reckless fuck. Always in search of that adrenaline that took over your body during a heist.
Arthur's partner's body tumbled on the marbled white floor before Robin could even rush past me. The rest of us aimed our weapons right at the people screaming in fear. While Robin jumped over the counter, aiming his weapon at a woman who cried out in fear.
"All right! Now get away from the counter!" He shouted, his voice muffled due to his mask of choice he wore over his face. A skull.
We all decided we would wear the same wardrobe. Black hoodies, with black jeans and fucking Halloween masks that would hide our fucking faces.
One of the newcomers was in charge of tying up the doors with cable tie straps, while the rest of us kept aim one our hostages of choice, right to their heads. They feared more for their lives if you aimed right to the head.
"Go! Go! Go!" Robin shouted, striking a man right on the stomach with the butt of his weapon before kicking his face. "Up against the wall! And don't make me tell you again!" I caught a glimpse of him aiming his weapon at a pale-faced victim, "You! Away from the computer!" He yelled.
I quickly moved, my mask of choice over my face- another skull- shoving a man right in the middle of the marbled floor of the bank.
This wasn't our first bank heist, and every time we were already known for making everyone lay face down on the floor with their cellphones laid before their heads.
"Let's go!" Robin grabbed onto a crystal fish bowl that was used to keep a set of numbers inside, tilting it upside down so all the numbers dropped onto the floor around the bank manager. "Cell phones inside the bowl!" He shouted. "Inside the bowl- now!"
"You! Bank manager!" Graham- one of our newcomers shouted over to a woman, aiming his weapon right at the head of a brunette woman's head. "Get up!"
As soon as my line of sight caught sight of a heavy set man attempting to get up on his feet, Graham was quick to aim his weapon at the back of his head, kicking him back down- so hard, the man grunted in pain.
"Not you!" Robin shouted, aiming his weapon at a brunette woman who was quick to hold her hands up in surrender. "You! Get up!" He pulled her up to her feet, not even giving her a chance to scream in fear.
From what I could see, the woman was dressed in a power suit. Black skirt, blazer black jacket and a white buttoned up shirt underneath. Her hair was jet black, loose, stopping right at shoulder length. Her lipstick was ruby red bright. She looked classy- regal even- which was something new to spot in this side of Boston. And, she looked fucking terrified.
While Graham- one of our boys poured gasoline into the fish bowl to burn all of the employees and customer cellphones. The rest of my boys emptied whatever was in the cash registers.
"What's the timer set to?" Robin asked, his weapon aimed at the brunette's temple.
I could see her cringe to the feel of the cold gun barrel pressed against her temple before answering, "Nine O'Clock."
She was scared. But, she didn't back down just for anyone, and that to me was admirable.
"Don't fucking lie to me, it's 8:15." Robin warned, pressing the barrel of his weapon more against her temple that caused the woman to cringe. "Listen, it's not your money. You understand?"
I maintained my aim of my weapon against the woman's head while she nodded in agreement. Clearly, she did not want to die today.
And who were we kidding? Even I didn't want someone like her to die today. Whoever this woman was, she was right up my alley.
Well, maybe not right up my alley, but she was certainly attractive. Whoever this brunette was, she had spunk. She was fearless, or maybe a part of her was scared but she certainly wasn't showing it, until she was.
Her breath trembled, it made me sad for her. She stumbled upon the combination of the safe that Robin was growing impatient.
"Don't stall," Robin warned, aiming his weapon near her face menacingly. "Let's go!"
"I'm sorry," she muttered, nodding, her fingers rushing to remember the combination as well as her brain. "I'm sorry."
Her lip was trembling, her hand was shaking- I had to do something.
"It's okay," I said as I reached for her hand. "Take your time, just breathe." My eyes connected with hers- even if she didn't notice behind my mask- and let me tell you. Her eyes captivated me.
I saw her nod and inhale a breath as she nodded as I instructed her what to do. I didn't know why at the time; but even I didn't want to see her die.
"Hey, you guys open?" We all heard a voice outside the double doors of the bank, followed by a pounding.
My eyes remained on the brunette woman who was face down against the floor. Her eyes connected to mine, even if she couldn't see them past my mask.
"We have to go! Now!" I instructed, watching everyone scatter around me, except for the hostages.
"Hold it!" One of the newbies shouted. "Silent alarm!"
Then and there, I saw Robin's attention turn to the manager of the bank. "What? Huh? What'd you say?"
"We didn't pull anything!" The bank manager shouted. "I swear! We didn't pull anything!"
"What? Do you think I'm fucking stupid?!" The butt of Robin's weapon struck the man in the face, at least three times repeatedly. Enough for the audience that found themselves in the bank to cry out in fear.
"Let's go!" My hand landed on his shoulder as I barked my order. I moved quickly into the vault, pouring gas to burn any sign of fingerprints me or my crew might have left behind.
I could hear Robin's voice muffled from outside the vault, but could't make out his words until I stepped out of the vault and my eyes could no longer spot the brunette woman that laid on the ground.
"What's going on?" I asked, seeing the same brunette woman being held by Robin as a hostage, his weapon aimed at the back of her head.
"The cops get us walled in, we're gonna need her." He said to me, forcing the brunette woman out of the exit of our escape plane. You know, in case things went South.
Luckily, we were able to exit out of the bank in time and into the back of the van, where one of our newbies drove off, tires screeching, like hell on wheels while the rest of us felt free enough to remove our masks.
I exhaled a sharp breath, my eyes landing on the brunette woman beside, who's hands were bound by a cable tie and eyes were covered over by an old rag. The last thing we needed was for her to know where we were going.
"You're going to be alright, okay?" I breathed, looking over at her trembling bottom lip. "Nothing's gonna happen to you."
I could hear Robin chuckle as he looked over his shoulder at me. If it were up to that fucker, I know he would probably have his way with her and dump her body somewhere unknown. That's who he was. But my dad lived by code, and I lived by the same code.
I wasn't counting on any hostages today. That wasn't part of the fucking plan, but now I was forced to deal with this as part of Robin's reckless ways.
"Pull over!" I shouted at the top of my voice as soon as we arrived near the beach.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Said Robin. "We have to kill this bitch!"
"I said pull over!" My voice somehow overpowered him. I could see him remain quiet while the woman trembled upon hearing my bark.
The last thing I wanted to do was hold a hostage. That wasn't part of the plan. That was never part of the plan. And if Robin wasn't like a brother to me- I would have placed him six feet underground years ago.
Once we pulled over, I forced Robin to open the back door to the van we were all riding in, and leave the hostage to fend for herself. As leader, I decided to leave her on the side of the beach, bare footed, as we forced everyone inside that bank to remove their shoes and heels.
Her feet must have been aching, but I had no other choice.
As I said earlier, taking a hostage was not part of my plan. There was no need for this woman to hang around and get killed because she saw all of our faces. Or become one of Robin's victims because he was reckless. That's not how I ran things.
"We should have kept her!" Robin barked over at me, but I didn't budge. I glared at him.
And the last thing I remember was shutting the side door to the van and instructing August to drive away after instructing the woman to leave the bandage over her eyes and keep walking across the rocks at sea, until she felt the water touch her toes.