Chapter Five: The Robbery
1261 Words
1. Elena
The store’s air was cool, almost sterile, the hum of fluorescent lights sharp against her nerves. Elena leaned on the glass case, watching the jeweler lift the silver chain with delicate fingers.
“This one,” she whispered.
The metal gleamed like liquid moonlight, finer than anything she had ever touched. Adrian would love it. It felt like a symbol...fragile yet enduring, the way their love had survived oceans and silence.
“Imported from Lisbon,” the jeweler said proudly. “It is not cheap.”
“I don’t care about the price.” She smiled, her voice trembling with anticipation.
The bell above the door chimed.
Three men entered, their movements purposeful. Caps low over their brows. Jackets too heavy for the Nairobi night. Elena stiffened.
The first locked the door. The second drew a pistol. The third...his eyes found hers.
Time fractured.
2. The Gunmen
Kariuki, the leader, had done this before. He moved with calm precision, the kind born of repetition. “On the ground!” he barked, voice echoing off glass and tile.
Customers screamed, ducking. The jeweler froze, hands up, his mouth opening in useless protest.
Mwenda, the youngest of the crew, kept his pistol trained on the entrance. His stomach churned. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Quick grab, quick run. Nobody hurt. That was what he’d been told.
But then Kariuki’s gaze cut toward Elena.
“She’s the one,” he muttered.
Mwenda blinked. The one?
The third man, Wekesa, smirked, sliding closer to her. “Orders are orders.”
Mwenda’s throat went dry. Something wasn’t right.
3. The Bystander
Angela Njeri had just stepped into the store to browse bracelets, planning to surprise her sister. She crouched now beneath a glass counter, heart hammering, her phone clutched in her hand.
She thought about calling the police, but fear paralyzed her. Her children were waiting at home. One wrong move, and she might never see them again.
From her hiding place, she saw the gunman’s eyes lock onto the woman at the counter. Not the jewels. Her.
Angela’s breath caught. “Dear God,” she mouthed silently.
4. Elena (again)
The gunman stepped closer, his pistol unwavering. “You should have stayed gone,” he said under his breath.
Her skin prickled. Recognition surged like ice through her veins. She had seen him before. Samoa. One of Ngugi’s men? Or a contact from the docks?
Her heart screamed Run. But her body was frozen.
“Please,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Don’t do this. He doesn’t know. He knows nothing.”
But Kariuki only tilted his head. “It’s not about him.”
The gun’s muzzle rose.
5. The Police Scanner
“Central units, report of armed robbery, Moi Avenue, Lusaka Jewels. Shots fired. Civilians inside.”
Static crackled. Engines roared to life across the city. Sirens began to wail.
6. Mwenda
His hands shook. This wasn’t robbery anymore-it was execution.
“Kariuki, we don’t need to kill anyone!” Mwenda hissed.
Kariuki’s glare cut sharp as glass. “Do you want to live, boy? Do as you’re told.”
Wekesa leaned closer to Elena, lips curling. “You’ve run long enough, sweetheart.”
Elena’s eyes darted toward the exit. If she could make it to the door-
The gun went off.
A single, deafening c***k.
Elena staggered back, her hand clutching her chest, eyes wide with disbelief. Blood bloomed across her blouse, dark and sudden.
Angela screamed from beneath the counter. Customers shrieked. The jeweler collapsed to the floor.
Mwenda froze, bile rising in his throat. “You killed her-”
“Shut up!” Kariuki snapped, shoving him toward the shattered display. “Grab the damn jewels and go!”
7. Elena (her perspective splintering)
Sound became water, muffled and warped. The floor rushed up to meet her. She felt warmth spreading beneath her, heard the distant echo of feet pounding, glass breaking.
She tried to call Adrian’s name, but only blood filled her mouth.
In her final moments of clarity, she thought of the silver chain. Of Adrian’s hands around her waist. Of the promise she had made: I’ll always come back to you.
Darkness closed in like a tide.
8. Angela
Angela crawled forward, ignoring the broken glass cutting her knees. She pressed her scarf against the woman’s wound, trembling.
“Stay with me,” she begged. “Stay.”
But the woman’s eyes were already dimming.
Sirens wailed closer now, their urgency slicing through the night.
The gunmen bolted through the back exit, leaving chaos in their wake.
9. Inspector Mwangi
By the time Inspector Joseph Mwangi arrived, the store reeked of blood and fear.
His eyes swept over the shattered cases, the cowering customers, the pale woman bleeding out on the floor. Paramedics swarmed her, working frantically.
“Botched robbery,” a uniformed officer muttered.
Mwangi frowned. His instincts prickled. Robbers didn’t usually shoot unless provoked. And the way the witnesses trembled, the way one pointed specifically toward Elena…
He crouched beside Angela, who was sobbing quietly, hands bloodstained.
“What did you see?” he asked.
Angela’s voice shook. “They looked at her. Not the jewels. Her. It was like… like they came for her.”
Mwangi’s jaw tightened. “Noted.”
10. Adrian
At the hospital, Adrian sat outside the trauma ward, the sterile light bleaching his face pale. His world had narrowed to the sound of machines, the shuffle of nurses, the ache of waiting.
Every few minutes, he checked his phone, scrolling back through Elena’s last messages. Nothing unusual. Nothing that hinted she wouldn’t come back.
He pressed the record in his pocket-the Édith Piaf vinyl, meant to surprise her. The cruel irony tore at him.
If she lives, I’ll tell her everything. I’ll never let her go again.
But deep inside, doubt gnawed. Why had she been there? Why the jewelry store? Why tonight?
11. The News
By midnight, headlines blared across local stations:
“BOTCHED ROBBERY ON MOI AVENUE – WOMAN CRITICALLY INJURED.”
“ARMED MEN STORM JEWELRY STORE – JEWELS AND CASH STOLEN.”
“VIOLENCE RETURNS TO THE HEART OF NAIROBI.”
The city moved on quickly, as cities do. For most, it was another tragedy in a city of tragedies. For Adrian, it was the collapse of his universe.
12. Kariuki (later that night)
They regrouped in a safehouse on the city’s outskirts, sweat still clinging to their skin.
Mwenda sat apart, hands shaking, staring at the blood on his cuffs. “She didn’t fight. She didn’t deserve it.”
Kariuki poured himself a drink, unfazed. “Orders were clear. She was marked. That’s all you need to know.”
Wekesa laughed bitterly. “And what about the jewels? Was that just a cover?”
Kariuki’s eyes hardened. “Keep your mouth shut. The less you know, the longer you live.”
But inside, even he knew: this wasn’t a robbery. It had never been.
13. Mwangi (closing the night)
Inspector Mwangi stood in the empty store after the crime scene tape had gone up. Broken glass glittered like stars under harsh lights. Blood stained the floor near the counter.
He replayed the witness statements, the trajectories, the timing.
No ordinary robbery. Not random.
He looked at the single silver chain left behind, still resting on the counter, untouched.
“Why you?” he muttered, staring at the crimson stain spreading across the velvet beneath it.
And in the silence of the wrecked store, the question lingered like smoke.
End of Chapter Five.
- Writer
