"The Royal Mint of Spain Heist: A Nauseating Nightmare"

As I stepped into the dimly lit corridors of the Royal Mint, my heart racing with anticipation, I couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline. My boyfriend, Berlin, a seasoned thief and leader of the group, gave me a reassuring smile. We had planned this heist for months, and I was about to play a crucial role in it. My job was to disable the security cameras and alarms in the ventilation room, while Berlin and the rest of the team worked on cracking the safe. I took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. We had a tight window to get in and out undetected, and I was determined to see it through. Berlin handed me a small tool kit and gave me a gentle nod. "You got this," he whispered. I nodded, feeling a surge of confidence. We had rehearsed this a dozen times, and I knew what I was doing. As I made my way to the ventilation room, my stomach began to churn. I had eaten a questionable tuna sandwich for lunch, and I was starting to regret it. I pushed the thought aside, concentrating on the task ahead. The corridors were eerily quiet, and the only sound was the soft hum of the ventilation system. I reached the room, and my hands began to sweat as I worked on disabling the cameras and alarms. My mind was focused, but my stomach was growing increasingly queasy. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that this was just a minor setback. The first few minutes passed smoothly, and I managed to disable the cameras and alarms. But as I turned to make my way back to the team, a wave of nausea washed over me. I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead, and my stomach began to churn even more. Berlin noticed my distress and rushed to my side. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned. I nodded, trying to play it off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little... anxious." He looked at me skeptically, but I reassured him with a smile. I didn't want to raise any alarms or make him think I was incapable of carrying out my part of the plan. As we made our way to the next room, I started to feel a little lightheaded. My vision began to blur, and my stomach started to churn even more. Berlin caught me by the elbow, steadying me. "You okay, love?" he asked, his voice low and soothing. I nodded again, feeling a little embarrassed. I didn't want to be a liability on this heist. But as we reached the next room, I felt a sudden, intense wave of nausea wash over me. Berlin's eyes narrowed, and he pulled me close. "What's wrong?" he whispered urgently. Before I could respond, I felt a violent contraction in my stomach, and my body started to rebel. I stumbled, and Berlin caught me, holding me upright as I vomited onto the floor. It happened again and again, each wave of nausea more intense than the last. I was sick eight times, and Berlin held me through it all, his expression a mix of concern and calmness. As the last wave of nausea subsided, I looked up at Berlin, feeling embarrassed and mortified. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, my face pale. He led me to a nearby room, where we could take a moment to collect ourselves. I was grateful for his support, but I knew I had to get it together if we were going to pull off this heist. Berlin helped me sit down on a nearby bench, and I took a few deep breaths. My stomach was still churning, and I felt weak and dizzy. But I knew I had to pull through. We were in the middle of a heist, and I couldn't let my stomach issues ruin everything. "What now?" I asked Berlin, trying to keep my voice steady. He smiled and handed me a bottle of water. "We take a break, and you try to compose yourself. We can't afford to have you in this state for the rest of the heist." I took a sip of the water, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards Berlin. He was my rock, my partner in every sense of the word. And as we sat there, waiting for my stomach to settle, I knew that I could count on him to get me through this. But just as we were about to proceed, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The guards had found us.