BLOOD CAN WAIT
900 Words
Reina Malika Point of View
Five long years .
That is how long it has been since I last saw my son. And now he stands in front of me wearing a uniform but not one of ours.
The air between us turns solid ,heavy , and suffocating. The hallway hums with distant alarms and the low vibration of systems running beneath the building, but none of it reaches me. All I can see is him.
Lorenzo.
His face is no longer the boy I remember, the boy who used to trail behind me at shooting ranges, eyes bright with pride every time he hit a target. His jaw is tight now. His grip on his weapon is professionally trained .
We stare at each other like strangers who share the same blood. Five minutes pass or maybe even less. Maybe more. Time means nothing.
A cold dread pulls in my stomach . I can not believe my eyes .
I want to pull him into my arms. I want to scream at him. I want answers because he left home for reasons only he knew . He did not think that as his mother I deserved to know why my son wanted to leave the only life I have ever introduced to him . He left me shattered .
“Lory,” I breathe, my voice cracking before I can stop it. “Where have you …”
The sound of his tactical radio cuts through the moment like a sharp blade.
“Sir, you are needed in Zone Fifteen. I repeat. Zone Fifteen.”
Sir.
The word lands harder than a bullet.
Lorenzo’s eyes flick away from mine. Duty replaces shock in an instant. He lifts the radio.
“Copy,” he says.
Then he turns and runs. He does not look back.
I stand there alone .My heart pounding violently , threatening to burst from my ribcage .
Sir?
Uniform?
Zone Fifteen.
A jolt of pure terror paralysis me freezing the frantic pulse in my veins .
Zone Fifteen is where the gold is stored. Where the heist is happening. Where I am confident my brother is actively destroying everything.
I do not have time to think. I do not have time to feel.
I move as fast as I can .
My heels strike the floor sharply as I sprint down the corridor, the sound echoing louder than gunfire in my ears. Every step is calculated. Every breath controlled. I am Reina Malika again, not a mother frozen by grief.
When I reach the loading wing, chaos greets me. Gunfire erupts from all directions . Dead bodies on the floor , my men are pinned down, firing wildly at police patrols flooding the area. Smoke stings my eyes. Alarms scream now, no longer distant.
And Theo is hiding like a coward . He is crouched behind a steel crate like a frightened child. Rage detonates inside me. This is the man my father trusted more than me .
This is the leader he chose for this mission ?
I watch as my men bleed while he waits for someone else to save him.
Coward.
Then I see Lorenzo.
He moves with precision, shouting commands, returning fire with brutal efficiency. Every stance. Every shot. Perfect.
I taught him that.
The memory slices through me.
I remember his small hands gripping a pistol for the first time. His laughter when he hit the center. His pride when I nodded in approval. Now he uses those same skills against my people. Against me.
My heart bleeds but the mission does not stop.
I make a decision.
I reach down and snap the heel off my right shoe. It was never a heel to begin with . It is a weapon. My backup plan for circumstances like this . I am always prepared for anything .
I hurl it toward the advancing patrol.
Smoke explodes instantly, thick and blinding, swallowing their line of sight. Shouts erupt , coughing and confusion disrupts them .
I do not hesitate.
I snap off the second heel and throw it toward Lorenzo’s unit just as reinforcements arrive. The smoke blooms between us.
For one brief second, through the haze, our eyes meet.
His face twists with anger. With betrayal .
Then he disappears .
“Move!” I shout, my voice slicing through the chaos. “Now!”
My men react instantly. They always do when I take control.
They load the Gold very fast and efficient . All they needed was a little bit of guidance and a person with control . Something that Theo can not do .
Theo still has not moved.
I grab him by the collar and drag him to his feet.
“You are alive because of me,” I hiss. “Do not forget that.”
The signal comes through telling us that extraction is ready.
We move. As I step out, I glance back once more. The smoke still hangs thick in the air. Somewhere inside it is my son choking, furious , but at least he is alive.
A crashing weight presses down my chest as I force myself to look away .
I had to do what I had to do. I never abandon a mission . And I was not about to start today .
Legacy is forever , blood can wait .
- Writer
