The jeep rumbled along the dusty road as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the barren landscape.
Inside, Rishi Netra leaned back in the passenger seat, his sharp eyes scanning the fading light, while Praveen gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension.
The air was thick with unspoken questions, the weight of the case pressing down on them like a storm cloud ready to burst.
"Rishi, this case… it's bigger than we think," Praveen said, his voice low, almost swallowed by the hum of the engine.
"Meera's missing, now Charan's gone too. Two kids, vanished into thin air. This isn't just a coincidence."
Rishi's jaw tightened, his mind already racing through possibilities.
"Yeah, Praveen. It's bigger than we think. High risk, high reward."
He paused, his gaze flicking to the side mirror, half-expecting to see headlights trailing them.
"But the real question is, who's pulling the strings?
Who targeted them?
And what the hell are those kids tangled up in?"
Praveen shot him a glance, his brow furrowed.
"You think they were into something shady?
Drugs?
Gangs?
Meera didn't strike me as the type."
"Doesn't matter what she seemed like," Rishi said, his voice sharp, cutting through the hum of the jeep.
"People wear masks, Praveen. Good kids, bad kids—it's all the same when someone wants them gone. We need to find the link. Meera, Charan, the police… and maybe even Arjun sir's murder."
Praveen's eyes widened, his grip on the wheel tightening.
"Arjun sir?
You think this is connected to his case?
Rishi, The police closed it—called it a suside."
Rishi let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. Suside?
Arjun sir was onto something big. You don't get a bullet into you when you want to jump form the building will already broken bones. My gut's screaming, Praveen. Whoever's behind this… they're watching us.
We're stepping on toes, and they don't like it."
Praveen swallowed hard, the weight of Rishi's words sinking in.
"So what's the play?
We're running out of time. This thing's ticking like a bomb."
"We start at the beginning," Rishi said, his voice steady despite the fire in his eyes.
"Meera's last known location. The road where she told her parents her bike got a puncture.
We go there, we dig, we find something—anything—that ties this mess together.
"The abandoned road stretched out before them, a desolate strip of cracked asphalt flanked by overgrown weeds and skeletal trees.
The moonlight cast an eerie glow, making the shadows dance like specters.
Rishi and Praveen stood at the spot where Meera's bike had supposedly broken down, their flashlight beams cutting through the darkness.
"No CCTV, no witnesses,"
Praveen muttered, kicking a pebble into the ditch.
"This place is a ghost town. Why the hell would Meera come here at night?
And with Charan?
No one takes this route unless they're looking for trouble."
Rishi crouched down, running his fingers over the tire marks etched into the dirt. His mind churned, piecing together the puzzle.
"Exactly,"
he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No one comes here alone. Not a girl like Meera, not at this hour. Someone lured them here, Praveen.
Or someone forced them."
Praveen's flashlight swept across the road, his frustration mounting.
"But why?
What's the angle?
If this was a kidnapping, we'd have a ransom demand by now.
If it was a hit, we'd have bodies.
This… this feels personal."
Rishi stood, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the three paths branching off from the intersection. One led to Meera's neighborhood, a straight shot home. The other two veered into the unknown—one toward the industrial district, the other into a dense thicket of woods.
"They didn't take the road home,"
he said, almost to himself.
"They went one of these other ways. Why?"
Praveen followed his gaze, unease creeping into his voice.
"You think they were meeting someone?
A deal gone wrong?"
"Or someone made sure they never got home,"
Rishi said, his tone grim.
He pointed to the tire marks veering toward the industrial district.
"These are fresh.
Too deep for a bike.
A car was here, Praveen.
Maybe more than one. We need to follow this trail before it goes cold."
As they climbed back into the jeep, Rishi's mind raced.
Who are you, Meera?
What did you stumble into?
And Charan… were you in on it, or just collateral damage?
The pieces didn't fit, not yet, but the deeper they dug, the more dangerous this felt.
Someone's out there, watching. Waiting for us to slip.
Back at their cramped office, the walls plastered with maps, photos, and scribbled notes, Rishi and Praveen pored over the evidence. A grainy photo of Meera at a café, laughing with friends. A police report on Charan's last known sighting, vague and unhelpful.
A newspaper clipping about Arjun's murder, the official story reeking of a cover-up.Rishi leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.
"There's a thread here, Praveen.
Meera and Charan… they're connected to something bigger.
Arjun sir was sniffing around the same edges, and it got him killed.
We need to find out what he knew."
Praveen tapped a pen against the desk, his voice tense.
"But where do we start?
The police aren't talking, the families are too scared to say anything, and we've got no leads on who's behind this.
It's like chasing ghosts."
Rishi's eyes flicked to the map, his finger tracing the industrial district.
"Ghosts leave traces. That road… it's not random. Someone wanted Meera and Charan out there, away from prying eyes. Tomorrow, we hit the warehouses, talk to anyone who might've seen something.
Dock workers, security guards, even the street vendors. Someone knows something."
Praveen nodded, but his expression was grim.
"And if we're being followed? Like you said, Rishi, we're not alone in this."
Rishi's lips curled into a faint, defiant smile.
"Then we make sure we're the ones asking the questions. Whoever's out there… they're about to learn we don't scare easy."
Meanwhile, across the city, in a dimly lit warehouse that reeked of rust and despair, the black-masked man loomed over his captive.
The man tied to the chair was barely conscious, his face hidden beneath a white mask now stained crimson with blood.
Each labored breath rattled in his chest, a testament to the beating he'd endured.
"Talk,"
the black-masked man growled, his voice a venomous hiss.
He grabbed the captive's chin, forcing his head up.
"You know what I want. Where is it?
Who has it?"
The captive's head lolled, a weak groan escaping his lips.
"I… don't… know…"
"Liar!"
The black-masked man's fist connected with the captive's jaw, the crack echoing in the empty warehouse.
"You think you can play me?
You think you can protect them?"
Before he could strike again, the warehouse door creaked open.
A wiry figure in a gray hoodie slipped inside, his voice urgent.
"Boss, stop!
You kill him, we're screwed.
The big man's already pissed—says if we don't deliver, we're done.
Clients are coming in a week, and we've to clean this before they know about it"
The black-masked man froze, his fist still raised.
"Clients? How the hell am I supposed to clear ?
when this bastard won't talk?"
The hooded figure stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"We've got bigger problems. Word's out—someone's sniffing around. Netra and his partner.
They're asking questions, digging into Meera and Charan. If they get too close…"
The black-masked man's eyes narrowed behind his mask.
"Netra… that damn bloodhound. He's like Arjun, always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."
He turned back to the captive, his voice dripping with menace
. "You hear that?
Your little friends are causing trouble. Maybe I should pay them a visit."
His phone buzzed, shattering the tense silence. He yanked it from his pocket, his heart pounding as he saw the caller ID. No name, just a single word: Lion.
He answered, his voice trembling despite his efforts to sound confident.
"Sir, it's under control.
We're close, I swear—"
"Close isn't good enough," the Lion's voice cut through, cold and precise, like a blade.
"I gave you a job. I gave you time. And yet, here we are, with nothing. Do you know what happens to people who fail me?"
The black-masked man's throat tightened, sweat beading beneath his mask.
"Sir, please, he's tough, but I'll break him. I just need—"
"Forty-eight hours," the Lion interrupted, his tone final.
"Get what I want, or I'll carve your family's names into your skin before I bury you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir,"
the black-masked man stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
"I'll get it. I swear."
The line went dead, leaving only the echo of the Lion's threat. The black-masked man stood frozen, his hands shaking as he stared at the captive. Forty-eight hours.
Two days to save my life… or lose everything.He turned to the hooded figure, his voice low and desperate.
"Get the tools. We're done playing nice. This bastard talks, or he dies."
As the hooded figure scurried off, the black-masked man leaned close to the captive, his breath hot against the blood-soaked mask.
"You hear that? Your time's running out. And so is mine."
Back at the office, Rishi stood alone by the window, staring out at the city's flickering lights.
His mind was a storm of questions, each one sharper than the last.
Meera, Charan, Arjun… what's the thread?
Who's the puppet master?
And why does it feel like we're already in their crosshairs?
He clenched his fist, his reflection staring back at him in the glass.
I'm coming for you, he thought, his resolve hardening.
Whoever you are, wherever you're hiding… I'll find you. And when I do, you're going to wish you'd never crossed my path.
The night stretched on, heavy with secrets, as the city held its breath, waiting for the truth to claw its way to the surface.