Chapter 2: The Other World

2 months ago

aakanksha4

@aakanksha4

One year later.

The ETF moved like a machine with broken gears.

Cases were closed. Criminals were caught. Reports were filed. But the laughter, the soul of the team, remained buried with their lost comrades.

The soft glow of the Mumbai skyline filtered through the ETF office windows. Somewhere in the quiet, Arjun sat alone in the dim conference room, the case files forgotten on the table.

It was an evening like any other when Arjun's phone buzzed. A single message lit up the screen:

"11:30 PM. Drinks, ACP?"—Captain

Arjun’s lips twitched into something almost resembling a smile. A different world awaited him tonight—one where no rank mattered, where justice didn’t need paperwork, and where his demons were momentarily tamed.

His mind drifted back to a moment he seldom allowed himself to remember.

The first time he met ‘Captain’.

It had been years after Roshni’s death.

Months after the botched mission that left three of his team mates dead because of his revenge.

The guilt was unbearable. The silence heavier than any punishment the department could have ever given him.

He was ready to quit.

---

“I’ve had enough, Sir. Ab mujhse nahi hoga.” Arjun's voice had been cold, dead inside as he stood in front of Commissioner Dustin Coelho, the one man in the world who hadn’t given up on him.

Commissioner Coelho, a stern yet fatherly figure with a weathered face and sharp eyes, leaned forward.

“Arjun, when the law ties your hands, does that mean justice should die too?”

Arjun’s jaw clenched. He had no answer. Only a sea of anger.

The Commissioner tossed a file towards him — thin, no official seal. Classified.

“There’s another world, Arjun. Men who serve without rules, without medals. Men who believe justice is not about courts... it’s about conscience.”

Arjun had looked down at the file, frowning. Inside was a simple profile:

Special Forces.

Military Intelligence.

Specialized in Covert Operations.

"You’ll be working with a Captain, a military officer. Keep it professional, and don’t expect to understand him.

No decorations. No awards. Just a reputation — they do what needed to be done, and never ask for applause.”

---

Days later, Arjun found himself at an abandoned military training ground on the outskirts of Mumbai, waiting under the grey winter sky.

He saw him then — ‘Captain’.

Not what Arjun expected.

Captain had been through more battles than he cared to count. A very young man of energy, vitality, and unwavering loyalty to his brothers in arms, he was the opposite of the sombre, silent officer he was about to meet. His military life had always been full of camaraderie and camaraderie only—he wasn’t one to sit back and wait for the action to come to him. He made it happen. But when he had received his assignment, he'd had one thought running through his head: A cop?

This wasn’t his first choice of partner. But he was told that the man was the best in business and he knew the city like the back of his hand.

While Arjun stood in a black jacket and tactical boots, his stance rigid and grim, he strolled up in fatigues, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a lazy grin stretched across his face.

"ACP, right?" his voice was light, almost teasing. "The commissioner told me you were serious. Didn’t know it meant you forgot how to smile."

Arjun only nodded stiffly, assessing him.

In his handshake was strength, but no arrogance.

In his eyes was experience, but no bitterness.

He was young, wild and carefree.

They couldn’t have been more different.

Where Arjun’s soul was a graveyard, he seemed to be a running river — laughing, stubborn, alive.

---

Their first mission together was complete chaos.

A local kingpin, had set up an illegal arms deal.

Arjun planned a methodical approach — in and out, no noise.

Captain barged in smiling, pretending to be a weapons buyer, and within ten minutes, had the kingpin confessing everything between swigs of cheap whiskey.

When the deal went sideways and bullets started flying, he moved with effortless speed, covering Arjun without hesitation, joking even as they exchanged fire.

"Thoda chill karo, ACP! Tumse itni heat radiate ho rahi h, k meri goliyaan bhi deviate ho rahi hain!"

By the end of the night, the enemy was dead, the arms cache destroyed, and Arjun — for the first time in months — felt the faintest pull of life in his veins.

They didn't speak much afterward.

No back-pats. No deep discussions.

Just two soldiers in different uniforms, finding a way to survive together.

"Good work, ACP."

Arjun just nodded.

"Same time next mess?"

He had winked, casually swinging his bag over his shoulder as if they'd just wrapped a cricket match.

And thus, an unspoken bond was born.

No friendship declarations.

No personal confessions.

But over time, trust — the kind born in fire — grew.

Captain would always be the one who laughed the loudest in the face of death.

And the ACP, would always be the one who fought hardest to silence the ghosts.

They were opposites.

They were exactly what the other didn’t know he needed.

And ever since that day, the duo had been working together on such secret missions. They didn’t know much about each other, not even each other’s real names. They were just “Captain” and “ACP” for each other. They met once in a while, did their jobs and disappeared like they never existed.