ROLAND’S POV
The room felt colder than it should have. The flickering fluorescent light overhead cast shadows that danced across the walls, mirroring the unease bubbling inside me.
My gaze was locked on him-my so-called partner-as he stood near the door, his hand resting possessively on the weapon I had reluctantly handed over moments earlier.
I had trusted him with it, thinking he understood the gravity of the situation, but now, watching him prepare to walk out with it, I felt the sharp sting of betrayal rising in my chest.
“You’re really going to walk out with that?” I asked, my voice tight but controlled.
He turned to me, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Of course, I am. You didn’t think I’d just hand it back, did you?”
His casual demeanor infuriated me. This wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t some game we were playing where his whims could dictate the next move. This was serious-deadly serious-and I needed him to understand that.
“Listen,” I said, stepping forward, trying to keep my tone level even as my pulse raced.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing right now. That weapon isn’t just another piece of hardware-it’s tied to everything we’ve planned. Everything. If something goes wrong because you decided to-”
He cut me off with a sharp laugh. “Relax, Roland. You’re acting like this is your first rodeo. Nothing’s going to go wrong. Not with me holding it.”
His arrogance was like a slap in the face, and I had to bite down the urge to lash out. Losing my temper wouldn’t help-not here, not now. Instead, I clenched my fists and drew in a steadying breath.
“I’m not worried about you mishandling it,” I lied, keeping my voice steady.
“I’m worried about the plan. We’ve got a lot riding on this, and any deviation anything could put us at risk. You walking out with that makes us vulnerable.”
His smirk faded, replaced by a look of mild irritation. “You worry too much. That’s your problem.”
I took another step forward, trying to gauge if he was bluffing or if he genuinely intended to walk out with the weapon.
“Look,” I said, softening my tone, “I’m just saying we don’t need to draw attention to ourselves. Give it back, and we can regroup. No harm done.”
He shook his head, already moving toward the door. “Not happening.”
My frustration boiled over as I watched him turn his back on me. “Damn it, will you stop for a second and listen to me?”
He paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned his head just enough to glance at me over his shoulder. “I’m listening.”
I swallowed the anger threatening to spill out and tried to approach this differently. I couldn’t afford to push him further away, not when I needed him to stay focused.
“When are you going to be ready to move on Sasha?” I asked, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “We’ve got plans, and the longer we wait, the more dangerous this gets.”
He fully turned then, leaning casually against the doorframe, his expression unreadable. “A week.”
The single word hit me like a punch to the gut. “A week?” I echoed, incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not,” he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest. “A week gives us time to let things cool down. No one’s going to be suspicious by then.”
I stared at him, my mind racing. “That’s too long,” I said firmly. “You’re giving them time to prepare, to anticipate. We need to act sooner-tomorrow, even.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re impatient. That’s going to get you killed one day.”
I bristled at his condescension, but I refused to let it show. “I’m not impatient-I’m practical. Every day we wait is a day they can tighten their defenses. You think they’re just sitting around, twiddling their thumbs? They’re not stupid.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, but rushing in blind isn’t going to help us. We need time to plan, to make sure every detail is covered. If we go in too soon and screw this up, it’s game over.”
“Then let’s use tomorrow to finalize the details,” I countered. “We don’t need a week to-”
“I’m not changing my mind,” he said, cutting me off. His tone was final, unyielding, and it made my blood boil.
“Why?” I demanded, stepping closer. “What’s so important that we have to wait an entire week? Give me one good reason.”
He straightened, his casual demeanor replaced by a steely resolve. “Because patience is what separates the survivors from the dead, Roland.”
“You might want to rush in guns blazing, but I don’t. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that timing is everything. A week gives us the upper hand.”
I wanted to argue, to push back and force him to see reason, but the look in his eyes stopped me. He wasn’t going to budge.
I turned away, pacing the length of the room as I tried to rein in my frustration. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth.
“But if this delay costs us-if anything goes wrong-I’m holding you personally responsible.”
He laughed again, a low, humorless sound that grated on my nerves. “You do that.”
I stopped pacing and faced him, my fists clenched at my sides. “This isn’t a joke, damn it! Do you even understand what’s at stake here?”
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by my outburst. “I understand perfectly. Maybe you’re the one who needs to take a step back and think about what you’re doing.”
I glared at him, my mind racing with a thousand things I wanted to say but couldn’t. This wasn’t the time for a fight-not when we were already teetering on the edge of disaster.
“Just go,” I muttered, turning away from him.
“Take the damn weapon and do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when this all blows up in your face.”
He didn’t respond. The door opened with a soft creak, and I heard his footsteps fade as he walked away.
I stood there in the silence, my jaw clenched and my fists trembling. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. We were supposed to be a team, working together to execute the plan flawlessly.
But now, with him refusing to listen and insisting on doing things his way, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control.
For a moment, I considered going after him, forcing him to see reason. But I knew it wouldn’t work. He was too stubborn, too convinced of his own superiority to listen to anyone else.
Instead, I sank into the nearest chair, my head in my hands as I tried to figure out my next move. The clock was ticking, and every second that passed felt like a countdown to disaster.
I couldn’t afford to fail-not now, not when we were so close. Sasha was the key to everything, and if we didn’t act soon, we risked losing her forever.
But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that things would work out, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of my mind. What if he was right? What if patience really was the key to success?
I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. There was no time for doubt, no room for second-guessing. I had to stay focused, had to find a way to make this work-no matter what it took.
And if my so-called partner got in the way?
Well, I’d deal with that when the time came.
For now, all I could do was wait.
And I hated every second of it.