Tue may. 19, 2020.
10:50 A.M.

The record in which both entities didn't stop exchanging hateful glances from time to time was lost.

It was her turn to watch over the hostages on her own. The Asian-named thief found pleasurable the labor because it was impossible not to end up arguing with a fellow gang member or simply let the old guilt end her serenity in the process. This was reflected in her wish to hear at least one or two conversations between the pawns about funny anecdotes to fight against the sepulchral silence in the hall, or it would be a consolation to take out her stored poison as a defense to Arturito.

The interesting thing was that from one second to the next, the thirty-year-old woman had no want to continue wrinkling her face as she rested her gaze with the bank's security chief, handcuffed to the ground along with the Governor's other bodyguards, camouflaged as her in the red jumpsuit of the resistance. Tokyo noticed that it had taken her longer than she had to glance at him for several minutes without moving a fraction of her face. In an attempt to hide her true intentions, she gave a sly smile to Gandía, apologizing for having bothered him for so long. The man soon rolled his eyes to demonstrate his arrogance for the girl's actions, and wisely he repeated what she had decided, hide the unknown.

But maybe it was just a coincidence that they weren't so uncomfortable after all.

Unforeseen memories soon announced its arrival when Tokyo first saw him at the Zero Hour, infiltrated in front of him alongside Nairobi to abduct the Governor without violent ends.

Gandía's disturbing presence lay next to the most important figure, and it was clear that for no reason, as his jury ordered, he was going to leave him. Tokyo on the other hand, her instincts yearned that it was time to start shooting. But in this way, she was aware that she would be the main contributor in sending the first phase of the heist to shit.

Slowly lifting her military helmet, sitting alongside her best friend, she breathed out a sigh that seemed to be stuck in her lungs. She tried to relax a bit so as not to show any signs of nervousness when tasting the Governor's questions about what kind of regime they worked as alleged soldiers. The task of pretending would not have been possible if Nairobi had not studied those lines that The Professor had instructed them to practice until exhaustion a few weeks ago. Not having too much luck, it was evident that she was doing her best not to tense up, and that didn't go unnoticed by the security chief, who, with the way he crossed his forearms and legs at shoulder width, those things complemented his dark knight outfit, seeking undoubtedly to intimidate whatever threat presented itself.

The guard's lips parted slightly once his blueish orbs gave the green light to a small study he made to the woman a few meters away from him. Eyes much more elongated than her companion, medium height, she was not so short, her skin noticeably clearer than the other woman. He remembered to hear several minutes ago how calm her voice was, and he couldn't avoid feeling attracted by the illusion of seeing her again without a military suit.

His entire physical appearance was seen to stiffen when without warning, the female soldier urgently indicated that she had to use the restroom. Many questions cluttered his brain, but that was not the issue from the moment. Years of training, like a sharp mammal, he was able to taste an expensive scent of fragrance released from the lieutenant's neck while she was walking. It was something he could not enjoy. He hated it. The white man cocked his head without taking his eyes off the girl who still didn't appreciate him in detail, closing the huge door to cool off after him.

Tokyo was prepared to attack, she dropped the water. A warm feeling was born from a longing for the reflection of the guard seen. She did the same as Gandía. She was studying everything from the individual in front. She opened the door with power, with grace, taking the man's head ahead.

Gandía shouted with his giant gun, and Tokyo didn't have time to pronounce something, neither defend herself when a similar blow in the head sent her to the ground. Tying her legs and arms like a sack of potatoes, the fugitive guard surprisingly dragged her delicately in a way of apology with his insides demons insulting him countless times for hurting his deepest fantasy since the heist began. Far away, the dry voice of Sergio Marquina remained on hold, calling the girl with concern repeatedly.

Tokyo and Gandía could not assume exactly the passing of the hours.

The guard could not convince himself to stop observing who passed to occupy a spare compartment in his mind, and he plunged into a fantastic reality that had completely replaced the world of the living. It was all based on roots that grew as they were fed with the curiosity of noticing so far away the thief woman who was at his mercy a few meters below the ground. Nor it was close to reaching the gold mine subjected to more than a thousand degrees celsius to be transformed into just valuable golden particles.

"Don't worry about me. The people out there broke into the vaults of the National Reserve. You think they won't find a way into this shitty bunker?" The melodic voice kidnapped by the girl's rage resounded again in the darkness.

The receiver turned a deaf ear to what she had told him. He chose to keep closing the distance between them. With the head bent to the right, without ignoring her brown orbs. He supposed that the bound woman was not going to be calm with the infernal atmosphere without air on purpose. It was inevitable not to burst out laughing at that failed attempt to intimidate him. To his surprise, the laugh was not a mean one. The truth was he was amazed.

The thief could see it, and she was confused.

Tokyo hated the fact to measure the tone of his words again. She had the desire to destroy Gandía by what he was doing to her. Tears that were slow to lower her trembling cheeks, while she choked on a sob that would make things worse. His lips were set firmly in a fine straight line. At least inside, she hoped he would treat her better if he was going to have her tied to these things.

They had a murky start, that was not to be denied. As it is in a common kidnapping, the victim acted with violence to disguise the fear, and the kidnapper, in this case, was dedicated to shamelessly explain his malicious plan with the cards. But Gandía found absurd the idea of continuing spending his energy on following the current kicks from Tokyo, and her angry face. He started to accommodate a seat to start working on the phase where he had to get both of them to survive together in that refined concrete hole.

He made questions as an exalted mother to her rebellious son. As he spoke, he didn't notice how his voice became increasingly subdued, and that he was mainly distracted by paying attention to the girl's sweaty skin and lips. From there he found, Tokyo had gone days without sleeping or eating, she had been under pressure… Adding also the fact she was in the middle of her dead relationship with that Rio. He inferred it was that the reason for her not being willing to collaborate with him. More questions, and so few answers, that started to shape somewhere in his mind. He gave a sigh that showed some frustration.

He examined in detail the tied wrists that made Tokyo's arms allusion to a doll. Subsequently, he released them in exchange for holding her by the waist against the chair, then chaining her neck. That way, she wouldn't escape, and she wouldn't cause a disaster. The woman, rubbing her sore wrists, stunned, saw the guard opening an aid kit, and prepare a cotton ball to disinfect the wound he had caused.

Deep down, Tokyo felt the situation ironic and said nothing.

Gandía touched her cheek out of temptation, pushed her hair back to look at her for the umpteenth time, wiping the traces of blood on her forehead, he couldn't resist. The soaked cotton was dropped by accident because he had pounced on her to catch her mouth, taming her like a chained beast.

The two were so close that it was hard to see each other. Wrapped in the warmth and smell they made together. They were illuminated by the poor light emitted from the surveillance cameras. The guard made way for the red jumpsuit, his hands on her chain-trapped waist. Silene's hands impatient. Her hands slipped, ran, climbed, and wrapped around César's chest. She blasted curses a thousand times with her lips attached to his.

In the very end, there was a sign of complete loneliness. Each of them lost in a fiery abyss, but suddenly they rose from the other side of the flame to discover they were still holding in that small chair.

The minutes passed too slowly. César was immersed in his thoughts. At the same time, his arms intertwined with Silene with the utmost care. Their ears received only the breathing sound from each other, and there was no aspiration from both to continue talking after what happened. The man again felt the burning on his skin, and the confusion in his soul, a fever he could not put into words.

Silene was also bogged down in her internal opinion of the matter, and temporarily she forgot about her struggles, unwittingly her fingers slowly caressing the back of César's head. Those touches of the fine fingers on his skull haunted his memories from his plans to kill Nairobi, and destroy the gang.

He was going to take the life of her sister, and her family.

What would be left of Silene then? The question was layers of filling his face with anguish at not having a concrete answer. The facts were not like a needle in a haystack. That pretty little girl who was driving him crazy sooner or later would notice it. There were possibilities to use his manipulative abilities to the fullest so that, after the heist, they could normally live together for the rest of the days.

Who Gandía wanted to fool…

He had proven to be pathetic, and selfish. The simple idea sounded terrible. The guard knew that the slightest connection he could have made with her was going to go to hell, forever.

The man broke the long hug, baffling Tokyo a little, with her sight clouded over a bit from the mix of having her eyes closed for a while and the gloom of the place. She perceived a slow sound coming from Gandía's boots, which approached the cameras with some difficulty. Both observed in the direct recording video how Rio and Denver were backing off with their charged weapons. They were looking for Tokyo.

There was no going back, the sentence was made. The head of security of the Bank of Spain prepared his defenses and put his ski mask on his hood. He repeated his steps to invade the personal space of the bound woman and contemplated with lust the female silhouette. Because he was going to follow his plan, he concluded he had to love her one last time. "I'm heading out for a bit." He uttered in an almost inaudible whisper. He slightly lowered the black cloth that covered his mouth to marry her in a warm kiss, which was immediately reciprocated.

However, Tokyo was able to notice with intrigue that the blue crystals located in Gandía's eyes reflected pain and sorrow.

Why then was his kidnapper hiding pain? With the solitude in that Panic room, she was wondering to know that enigma of being on Different Sides.