A single drop of sweat had collected on Zemirah’s temple. She breathed heavily into her face mask. She clutched her bag handle then wiped her clammy palms. The line to the teller's desk was growing shorter by the minute. Zemirah was becoming anxious thinking about all the possible problems that would occur within the next 10 minutes.
Zemirah’s leg buzzed. Quickly, she silenced her phone and searched her notifications. There was a message from Francesa:
“look up z!! u cant get spacey rn >:(“ 2m ago
Zemirah’s cheeks reddened as she read the message and looked up to see Francesca across the bank lobby pretending to write a check.
Zemirah finally turned around and was almost at the counter. The woman in front of her was walking away. Zemirah stepped forward and took a deep breath.
“Hello Miss, how can I help you? A woman in a red uniform behind glass asked cordially.
Zemirah’s lips spread into the most conniving smile as she spoke, “Yes, I would like to make a withdrawal today.”
The employee nodded and started typing on the computer to her right.
“And what is your name?”
Zemirah carefully unzipped part of her purse and settled her fingers around the trigger of a black Glock. She counted to 5 in her head, waiting for Francesca to sound the alarm.
5,4,3--
Everyone shouted from the sharp ring of the alarms. The double doors shut with a woosh and all eyes were on Francesca standing beside them. Unfortunately, Zemirah couldn’t admire how beautiful she must’ve looked. Francesca insisted on wearing a scarlet jumpsuit to match the employees. She hated to be underdressed to a heist, Zemirah recalled.
Francesca yelled at the 2 remaining tellers and the customers in the lobby to form a line. She brandished them with her gun, one of which was much larger and held more bullets than Zemirah’s.
Zemirah pulled the Glock out of her purse and dropped it and her other weapons on the floor with a thud. The teller shrieked and began crying. Zemirah tapped the gun on the glass and ordered the woman to open the safe.
Francesca and Zemirah had researched for months. The safe was the largest in any German bank. It held at minimum, 5 million Euros. Of course, it had top security though. Situated in the capital of Berlin, it wasn’t the easiest case to crack. Zemirah and Francesca weren’t novices though. Despite Francesca’s lush upbringing, she dabbled in criminal activities like extorting money, shoplifting, and some other events that she may not have mentioned to Zemirah. On the other hand, Zemirah was an immigrant from Morocco. Many Germans had a distaste for foreigners in their lives and Zemirah’s sympathy for others, especially Germans was practically non-existent.
The teller exited from behind the counter and Zemirah followed her at gunpoint to the safe down the hall. The teller shakily entered a code into an electronic lock system. She nervously pressed an extra key and Zemirah pressed the gun into the woman's back.
“Quit messing around and hurry!” Zemirah barked. The woman yelped in pain and followed her instructions.
Meanwhile, in the lobby, Francesca was snatching valuables from customers and some of the employees and stuffing them into a duffel bag.
The two of them had decided that in order to escape the tortuous life they led, they planned to rob the largest bank they knew of and live in the Italian countryside on Francesca’s aging grandmother's vineyard. The plan wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.
Francesca eyed the time on the silver clock hanging to her right.
Shit. We’re gonna be late.
“We have 5 more minutes Zemirah! Move your ass!” She yelled to Zemirah down by the safe.
“Yes at the bank. We are being held-” A customer who was sitting on the floor next to some others was whispering worriedly into his phone.
Francesca clenched her jaw. She turned, shot the man in his shoulder. He howled in pain and his phone clattered to the floor and his body slumped.
What did he expect to happen? Francesca thought as she collected his phone and promptly ended the call.
“I swear to all that is holy, if you so much as blink without asking, I assure you’ll end up like Johnny right here!” She threatened the already traumatized group.
Loud footsteps approached as Zemirah rounded the corner pushing two duffels and a rolling tabletop overflowing with bills.
Francesca smiled and ran toward Zemirah.
“It's 12:44, Julian should be here any minute.” Zemirah informed Francesca.
“Right.” Francesca grabbed a bag and unlocked the doors. The metal doors creaked open, and with a slam, a summer breeze wafted into the lobby.
“What happened?!” Zemirah questioned upon hearing the wounded man clutching his shoulder and groaning in pain.
“You know, a rookie mistake." Francesca shrugged and winked.
Zemirah huffed in frustration and pushed the cart out the doors onto the concrete.
A white utility van screeched into view and stopped next to the girls in the parking lot. The side door of the van flew open and Julian yelled to Zemirah and Francesca,
"Get in they're coming!"
The girls began tossing cash into the backseat of the van. Police sirens were approaching and Zemirah's hands were shaking uncontrollably. She dropped a few stacks of cash on the ground that scattered into the wind.
"Pull yourself together, Z!" Francesca shouted and she collected the remaining bills and climbed into the seat, and extended her hand to Zemirah, and pulled her into the van. The door shut right as the first police car pulled onto the street behind them.
Julian took the quickest route to his secluded apartment on the edge of the city. The interstate was crowded, but the apartment was only 12 minutes away. The police were 5 cars behind them.
"Julian can't you go any faster?!" Francesca punched his seat and Julian groaned and responded, "I'm working on it Fran."
They were weaving between the lanes and accelerated far past the speed limit to disappear from the police's view and off of the interstate. They all released a breathe as drove off into a sideroad and deep into the forest.
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