Chapter 6

It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’  I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.

- Rose Kennedy.

Agent Rahane along with several others was in IB control room, listening to comms with rapt attention as the Task force arranged for Haqqani's capture got a tip and was now heading to capture him. Capture, not kill or fatal injury. His mind without his permission suddenly put up a flash of ETF and ACP Mukherjee, and he was thankful she is in no way a part of task force or his organization.

Beside him the Deputy was breathing in a way like any loud sound from him will spook the task force. He turned to look at him, a question nagging him from several hours now making its way.

"Sir,''

The Man looked at him with slight bit or irritation.

"What happened to the arsonist in Nasir murder case?"

The irritation vanished and now he was curious, "What made you think about him all of a sudden?"

Rahane shrugged, "Haqqani's country's co-operation kinda shocked me, so I wondered what happened to the other foreign criminal. What's External Affairs position on it?"

The Deputy adjusted his comm over ears as he answered, "It’s stuck. There is no pressure from RAW to bring him back and PM is not too keen to ruin political relation with Bangladesh."

He exhaled, "I never understood why exchanging criminals will ruin relation between countries."

The Deputy smirked, "You better start nodding to whatever the upper level throw at you, Rahane, if you want to get on top." Sobering up, he added quietly, "The real thing is, after Haqqani showed himself, foolishly if I may add, Government is not too keen on small fishes like Nasir or the arsonist. Their eyes are on real prize, not silver or bronze."

"We got Haqqani through Nasir."

"And now we will get Haqqani. Nasir is dead." He dismissed the talk, turning his head toward an operator and asking him to give position detail on the task force.

After 4 hours of waiting with bated breath, wincing at every gun shots fired and grunts of task force cum Haqqani's men, one voice through comms informed them they got the 'Prize'.

"I repeated, we got the Prize." The task force leader repeated, voice exhausted yet proud of his team's achievement. In the control room everyone cheered and congratulate each other.

Rahane only wanted Haqqani's interrogation to start ASAP. He has many questions to ask.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a sunny day. There was a murder. ETF was there.

Just another perfectly, normal day.

A woman was found dead beside a busy Highway around early morning. By the time the team reached the crime scene, it was midday and people are gathering around it, hampering the police procedures, looking eager and excited like it’s an art show and not dead body rotting in daylight.

The woman turned out to be a lonely housewife of a nearby locality, who was heading towards the library which was adjacent to the park near highway, like she does every other Friday. A seemingly innocent housewife's murder shocked and intrigued everyone, and it was another circus when the team went to interrogate the family and neighbors. Safe to say, nothing turned out from the enquiry.

When the team sat for the case discussion in the evening, they were exhausted not only by the heat of day, but also the crowd which seemed like ever present, like a shadow, wherever they go. It's not like people were unaware about ETF, but after the virus case which made headlines, and Director's shooting which made even bigger news, they were kind of celebrities, which is much less cool than it sounds, interfering with the work as people can't seem to come to the point about the case at hand, directly or indirectly mentioning past events from which the team was trying to move on. At one point, Sameer and Riya walked out of a neighbor's house because they were barely holding it together, letting Shree and Chotu take over who looked kinda surprised at the senior officer's reaction, but not at the ACP's.

The only point team could agree on was maybe, the woman had an affair and the BF did it, obviously about whom the husband would have no idea. As it was an affair, it was discreet, so asking others about any suspect was futile. It also puts the husband directly in murder suspect list, and leaves the team to find out a BF, about whom they had no clue till yet.

Sakshi picked up the book which was lying beside the body, flinching a little at the dried blood on the covers as she turned pages after pages, "Love story. That too non-steamy. Maybe BF kept the romance alive."

Sameer scoffed at the 'love story', to which she raised one eyebrow.

"I thought you liked these kind of books."

"Oh no, keep me away from those books." He put hands on air in a 'hands up' motion, "Don't see the appeal, really."

"It’s a best seller." Chotu was saying, "Saw many college girls carrying it around. Heard its angsty." Pausing dramatically, he added, "Spoiler alert- the GF dies and guy mopes around."

"Aww." The crime journo cooed, "I take back my words, maybe it’s not BF."

"We are blessed that you took back words." Rawte quipped dryly, leaning back on his seat, to which she semi glared, not really minding the jab.

"I never liked love stories." Sameer said, looking somewhere far, "More so these type of love stories, where one dies and other carries the story ahead."

"A Walk to Remember." Madam Director, who was silent till now, said with a dreamy look in her face. Sakshi sighed softly at the title.

"I guess the reason I never liked it was the lack of 'Why's." He explained as others frowned at that, except the ACP who was not following the conversation, lost in her own mind, "Why this dead person matters so much? Why is their love so special that it spreads through out some five hundred odd pages? Why should I sign up for the angst of the hero just because he lost his girl? Why there is only revenge/ moping talk and no real romance?"  

"The angst, the revenge, the flashbacks, all are nothing but result, of the tragedy, of the incident which changed the hero, or heroine, forever." Everyone's head snapped as the ACP started talking, as if in a trance, obviously following the topic of convo, "The main story is, or should be, about the two people who loved each other deeply, shared a bond, created memories and were happy. It should be about those walks in park, laughs without any reason, listening to the others talking nonsense, all those silent moments when you are just content, lost in the bubble which you mistake for forever. It should be about those special looks only reserved for him, the longing you feel when you are apart only for minutes, the never ending talks in phone at the dead of night. It should be about those moments, but it's not, the angst and revenge takes the front seat because," She paused slightly, "because, it hurts to think. To think what I had and can never have again. To think about the last time I saw him and that I will never see him again. To think the voice mail message left by him is the only thing left which proves he existed sometime. To see the laundry left by him, annoyed that the pile is so high, only to realize he won't need it because he is gone. To think the photographs are the last memories I have of the two of us. To look at my side, expecting him, only to get hit with the reality. To see myself in the mirror, and realize it, for the thousand times in a day that I am the only person left behind, the other half. To see the stars, the Universe and think why I was chose to endure this pain, why he had to go. Countless questions, but nobody has the answers."

In the stunned silence of the room, she concluded, "That is why, the precious memories are so less. The name mentioned like it’s unspeakable, or too sacred. That is why the angst dominates, because it’s the only thing that carries the hero forward."

It felt as if she didn't realize she talked and let others see a part of her soul, when she went back to her shell and silence descended once again in the room. The guys, initially looked flabbergasted, like they didn't know if they should stay there or listen, but as went deeper, a look of understanding fell on their face, and by the time she finished their hearts were aching in a rare moment of sympathy. Tears from the crime journo's eyes were falling silently, which she didn't even attempt to wipe away, away from her the Director looked torn between to reach out toward the girl whose heart was bleeding silently, and controlling her own emotions. She had seen the other woman in love, so alive and happy yet exactly the same. Meeting her after years when tragedy hit her, the emptiness in her eyes and determination in her 'Personal' case made her realize how far it had changed her, which was physically painful for her, maybe even more than the bullet hit her a few weeks back. Of course, everybody noticed how the ACP went from third person to 'I's without even noticing.

It also made everyone realize, apart from the moping and vengeance part, that loving and losing the other half leave a deep scar, something majority of people in real life can hardly come out of. She is still living in that life, and maybe she will never come out. In a way its’ pathetic, going through each day of your life with the memory of a dead person, but sympathy and her doesn't really go hand in hand.

Unknown to all of them, the unreadable look in Arjun's eyes were not due to sympathy, or pain for the ACP. It was one of those moment when you realize something, and at the same time lose it. As the ACP went on about the fictional Hero's psychological issues, he realized he wants to be that heroine, or other half, for someone. He wants to be that other part of soul who knows every tick, every mood, every sigh, every expression, who stay awake late night because the other half could not sleep, who share the silence which is sometimes stormy, full of meaning, sometimes peaceful, who has those special laughs or looks or touch reserved only for her. And like every other human who ever walked on this Earth, greedy as his ancestors, he wants someone to have those things for him. He can do without dying, scarring her for life, of course.

The desire to belong to someone hit him with such a power, which made his brain to go to overdrive mode, which also revealed something else. He wants to be that other half for her. ACP Riya Mukherjee. Riya. Eccentric, mysterious, broody, sarcastic, super-ninja skill, kickass, with a dead ex- boyfriend on whom she is still hung over. Riya. For her. Of her.

Once had thought about her personality and decided it suits her, and nothing else would have worked. In a way he accepted whatever shi* happened in her past. But da*n, if he doesn't hate that dead lover ATM, ruining a future prospect about what he had no idea before this monologue.

Suddenly the air was too less for him to breathe.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

Somewhere in the World

"We are scre*ed." A man's voice came through the phone, clearly agitated and angry, "Bloody Indians scr*wed us two times over. Traitors, we should have never trusted them."

"We should not have involved Haqqani, Janaab." The Man holding the phone replied curtly, "You gave him freedom to do what he wanted to. He went and messed it all up."

"It's because we had a plan." The other replied, "It doesn't matter now. We need to . . . " He exhaled a shaky breath, "We need to abort."

His eyes widened, "Abort? Are you sure?"

"Do we have any other choice?" The Man over the phone snapped.

"We worked on it for months, planned for years." He was lamenting, not ready to let go.

"You don't need to tell me that." The Man yelled, losing the last thread of calm he had, "It was my vision! I introduced it to others. Don't you dare tell me what I could be losing because of all this mess, because I know it very well."

The Man holding the phone kept quiet for a while, the sound of ragged breath audible on the other side. He asked quietly, accepting defeat, "What about the boys?"

"Send them back. They belong to us." The reply was instant, like he was already thinking over it before the Man asked, "I have already talked to others. We will do every arrangement possible for them. After all, they served country, even though the mission is aborted now." The bitterness can be tasted from here.

"It's not only your boys, Janaab." He reminded.

"Eliminate the others." He replied gravely, yet with enough sternness, "They are liability now."

There was nothing else to say, yet the Man over the phone waited, and only cut the call after a small and defeated, "Okay."

Unknown to them someone was tapping the phone call.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It felt surreal. An imagination.

Azeem Haqqani. Wanted associate of terrorist gang and middleman between shady people. Azeem Haqqani, who was a ghost until few months ago, whom the NSA could not find, who chose to appear in the city of dreams, in a party, making a show of himself and mocking the law enforcement. Haqqani, against whom the Union declared war, after whom the whole country ran like a Dog with bone.

Agent Vir Rahane could not believe the dishelved, stunned Man sitting less than 6 feet away from him is really Haqqani, and they really got him.

Through the one way glass, thousand questions and thousand interrogation techniques were running through his mind. In a way he should be in the team who handle the interrogation, because he was the one who found him (actually a hacker did, but whatever . . . ), who was nearly killed in the process, and because of whom the organization got him currently. If he is in team, he will surely lead the interrogation, but he refused to hope, until official confirmation comes nothing is final. Maybe someone else could . . .

As long as he gets his answers, he don't care who conduct the interrogation.

It's been 3 days since his capture. From the looks of it, Haqqani is still stunned, unnaturally quiet, not throwing tantrums like a caged tiger. Like he was not expecting them to come behind him, to catch him. Like nothing is making sense for him.

Right now, it’s not making sense to Rahane that why nobody started asking him questions.

"You have to wait to ask him questions." He looked to his side and found RAW additional secretary Anita Desai, a specialist on Indo-China and Indo-Pakistan relations, standing near him, looking at the glass penetratingly. The instant 'Why' was on his lips, but before he asked the older Woman answered, "There is a hitch."

He suppressed the urge to groan, "What now?"

The exasperation must have shown on his face and heard in his voice, because the Secretary was looking at him now, "We got stonewalled by his country. They are accusing us of not keeping our words."

"We got him. He won't get out and ruin his country's already infamous reputation." He mocked, "What else they wants now?"

"When the agreement happened, naturally they thought we will kill him, not capture. But we reminded that 'Kill' word was nowhere in the contract." She said, "They are talking about betrayal. God knows what evidence of betrayal by them we will get once we start making him talk." Her face hardened momentarily. Rahane took it all in, thinking for once they could have done without these political hindrances.

"Do they want him back?"

"There is no such talk, but we can't overlook that possibility." She replied, "But Haqqani is not going anywhere. Pakistan is forgetting that others countries were involved too in the contract. Just because they are panicking and throwing tantrums like 5 year old that doesn't mean we will give in. They will threaten to severe political ties, oppose us, what's new in that? Meanwhile, we will gather dirt and beat them in their own cat and mouse games."

"When?" The possible future course didn't look it will be solved soon.

"Very soon." The older Woman smiled.

Whoever undertakes to set himself up as judge in the field of truth and knowledge is shipwrecked by the laughter of the Gods.

-Albert Einstein

"Argh, what's happening in Delhi?" Sakshi frowned as she cut the call, asking to none particular. Near her Shree and Chotu looked up from their files quizzically.

"What happened?"

"My colleague is going to Delhi. There has been another body in gutter, bludgeoned to death. Face is unrecognizable." She shuddered, "He says the killer ruined it with acid."

Shree gulped in distaste while Chotu winced, "It's like, horror film quality."

"Is this a serial killer?" Shree asked, "It's like, 5th body in this week, right? Same M.O. of face ruined beyond recognition."

"Any suspect?" Chotu asked.

"Nope." Sakshi shook head, "Really, what's up in Delhi? First that shoot out, then this serial killer? It seems that the Doom of city is here."

The boys chuckled, "You are already making up headlines." The IT head teased.

The trio talked for a while about the bizarre murders and killers fascination with face ruining and dumping bodies in gutter. Sakshi simultaneously bashed Police and boasted if ETF handled this case, they would have solved it. Chotu pointed out that chances of that are, if not impossible, but slim. Normally they don't go beyond the state. If Police turned out incompetent, CID will handle it, then CBI, by then it will be stuck and files will be closed. The duo were still arguing over it, when the door banged open and ACP Mukherjee appeared. Before she could even keep one foot inside, she paused and took out her phone, frowning, which only deepened when she saw something in her phone which looked like a text. She turned sharply around, without looking up from her phone, and directly collided with the Director herself.

"Look where you are going, will you?" She scolded lightly. The ACP gave her a look, before proceeding to walk away, only to be stopped by the former.

"Now where are you going?" She asked in exasperation. Still not uttering a word, the ACP put her phone up in air for the Director to see. Whatever it was, she was not happy.

"I was just missing these sudden disappearances’." She deadpanned. Rolling her eyes, the ACP walked away, putting her phone inside and stabbing at the elevator button as she stood near it.

"What's up with the mute vow?" Sakshi asked jokingly as the Director entered. Beside her Chotu and Shree went back to their files, looking as if they had never stopped, eyes on the file but ears on alert.

"Why, you missing her sugary sweet voice?" The Director replied, the question dripping with sarcasm. The duo's lips twitched in amusement.

"Wow. Apparently, sarcasm is contagious." The crime journo muttered. The former rolled her eyes before asking about the absence about the rest of team, to which Shree replied how several minutes ago they got news that the husband of their latest victim surrendered in the local PS, confessing to the murder of his wife, and the senior officer along with Second-in-command went there to check on it. Nodding, she left, the crime journo following suit because she had to finish an article to be published the next day.

The slow day made the hours felt like they were engaged in a competition of who can be the slowest. Around evening the team called it a day earlier than any other day, stepping out as they made plans on how to use these rare hours before any case drops and ruin their plans. Sakshi chatted away with others on the new restaurant that opened last week near ETF, requesting the Second-in-Command to drop her there with a cheeky smile in between, to which the Man nodded, his mind and fingers busy hovering over a particular number and if he should call. It has been several hours that she left, and while it was not anything unnatural, but he felt he should check on her.

The call went unanswered the first time, and it got cut the second time after 4 rings. The team had bid goodbye and he and Sakshi were already near the SUV. The phone went on ringing for the third time and before it can make him more uneasy, someone picked it up.

"Rawte." The voice that greeted him simultaneously surprised him and made him feel like he was intruding. Still, he cleared his throat to speak up.

"Good Evening, Sir." He bit his lip once before speaking, "I was just checking up . . . she left hours before." He stammered.

"She's with me." Raghu sir dismissed him in four words, "She will get back to you later." The Man paused, and for a moment Rawte thought he wants to add something, but then the call was disconnected abruptly.

Frowning, he looked at the blank screen of his phone, then he put it in his pocket and getting inside his SUV, the frown this time forming due to the nagging of the crime journo.

The uneasy feeling never left.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Shutting the flip phone off, Raghu sir offered it to the owner, who was currently occupying the seat opposite his desk, eyes on the floor like it has some interesting pattern to follow. She made no move to take the phone so he put it on desk, at the same time noticing how she kept rubbing her arms like its cold in here. He glanced at the AC, it was no higher than normal.

The Man started pacing up and down, the sound of clock ticking is the only thing audible in the room. The silence was building up a strange kind of anticipation, and just when it felt like an invisible bubble was about to burst, the door was opened and a timid looking uniformed- man in his mid -fifties entered, nodding slightly at the Commissioner. He stopped pacing and hurriedly walked toward him, both of them now talking outside. Whatever the topic was, it had to be intense and not good, because when the former returned, his face was which can be only described as ashen.

"You were right." He finally said, to which the ACP looked sharply at him, jerking from her trance, "My phone was hacked."

Her reaction was neither of feeling content that she was proved right, nor of boasting. Her face hardened momentarily, a paradox to the vulnerability of her eyes. Silence was once again dominating the room, and Raghu sir didn't break it, expecting her to say something, which she did, after several hundred beats had passed.

"He was always good in technology."

The Commissioner crossed the distance between her and him in several long strides, then dragged the chair opposite her and sat, "Tell me. From the start."

"I already did." She gave him a semi heated cum tired look.

"Then do it once more." He was getting impatience. The ACP looked away, and closed her eyes as she started.

"Your text came around 1 in afternoon. You never text me, still I thought maybe you could not talk or maybe your PA sent it." She stopped, "I reached the venue, the same park you jog every morning. You were not here, of course."

"He was there." Raghu sir added for her. She nodded wordlessly.

"Neel Sahaay was standing there?" His voice had the incredulity and disbelieve of a skeptic, yet his expression was one of the investigator's. She nodded again.

"I hope you believe me after your IT department checked your phone."

"They said some third party took control of it for a few seconds." He ran his fingers through hair, "I see no message in my outbox, yet your phone has a message from me." He inhaled deeply, "So he was alive all these time? Where was he?" He frowned slightly, "Why he contacted you? What does he want?"

She straightened her back, "He said he is in danger. That he needs my help."

"For what?"

"To send him out of country."

The frown deepened, "This doesn't sound right. Did he want your help or the department's?"

"He didn't mention police." She rubbed her eyes with palms tiredly, "He just said he is in danger, and that bad people are after him. The only way he can be safe is to get out of country, for which he needs my help."

"For some unfathomable reason," Raghu sir said, "his words sound like a ton of Horse crap."

The fire was at last back in the ACP's eyes, "Maybe because He was the one who faked his own death?" Her face twisted in disgust, "I didn't forget how Johny never changed his statement about that particular thing, no matter how far I went with him. You remember too, don't you?"

"But why you would he do it?" He inquired. She stood up suddenly, her whole body vibrating with the reaction she was suppressing for hours now.

"It all makes so much sense. How nothing I came across ever felt like it's related to this case, because it was not, was it?" She asked to herself rhetorically, "He faked his death. It was all him." Her voice cracked in the end.

"Maybe you are rushing in this thing." He said gently with a touch of concern.

"I remember, Sir." She met his eyes finally, before looking away, running fingers through her already messy curls, "It doesn't matter. Why he did, where he was, what he did, nothing matters."

He could feel how she is interpreting the whole situation in a wrong and rushed manner, and for a moment chose to intervene, but one look at her shaken state and he put that thought away. There will be plenty time to argue with her and making her see sense, but it's not now. Later. For now, everything can wait.

Suddenly she turned to leave and he blinked, before standing up in a flash, "Where are you going?"

"Away." She answered without turning.

"My men will drop you at ETF." The more public place, the better chance she won't pull anything stupid. He had termed her many things, but never thought a time will come where he will fear her for her own safety. It sounded strange, even in his head.

"There is no need." She was quick to decline. He picked up his office landline.

"That was not a suggestion." He started making arrangements.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Normally, Director Kapoor doesn't do late nights. It sounds unnatural given her job, but she always tries to give herself and her team proper hours for personal life. Early on her life she had separated her work and personal life, and till now she remained stuck on it, barring a few important cases which demands the crazy time table.

But staying in hospital didn't do any good to anybody, so she was stuck with more paper works than usual, which, even after 2 weeks, didn't lessen like she wanted it to. It was already 12 when she glanced at her wrist watch, and headed for elevator. Walking past the discussion room, she made some notes in her phone's app, before pausing in her steps.

She was not sure why she stopped. Maybe because the Discussion room was unnaturally dark even though rest of the office was illuminated in a soft low light. Or maybe because, in the dark, she could manage to figure out a shadow. Or maybe it's just a cop-sense thing. Whatever it was, it made her push the glass door open and switch on the light.

The woman managed to stop herself from freaking out at the last minute when she noticed the eccentric ACP Mukherjee sitting in a far corner in room, on the floor if she might add, so unnaturally still that for a moment she wondered if the former was even breathing. Calming herself down slightly, she took several steps toward her.

"What are you doing here in dark?"

The ACP didn't reply, neither she made a move which would feel like she heard the other woman. Frowning, the Director closed the distance with small steps, stopping only when there is barely one feet of gap between them.

"Hey." She asked in low, hesitant voice, her eyes never leaving the ACP's frame or face. That's when she noticed the former was trembling slightly. The ACP must have sensed her scrutiny because her fist clenched and unclenched in a rhythmic manner, like she was trying to control herself.

But tears never let Human to control them. A small, treacherous, lone tear escaped from her eyes, and when the Director noticed, it literally brought the woman on her knees.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was shaking now as she gently grabbed the upper arm of the ACP. The trembling increased tenfold, and before she knew, the former had engulfed her in a hug which felt more like she was trying to hide herself from everything. If the tremble or tear didn't set alarm bells off in the Director's mind, this action surely did. She can't remember if she had ever seen the ACP like this, even at the peak of their friendship in the past. Whatever had occurred, it was not good.

The Director kept asking what's wrong over and over again, but got no response from the former. Tremors overtook both of them, one due to the fear of unknown, the other due to unimaginable grief. One was getting the much needed release which was overdue for so long, not only limited to last few hours, but from years. For so long she had suppressed her emotion, and now she discovered she had nothing to fight for. The helplessness, sense of betrayal, and confusion of unanswered questions overwhelmed the sobbing woman, finally pushing her over the edge and making her break down. While the other woman's anxiety level keep increasing. The most impatient, also the unnaturally composed person she had ever met is crumbling down right before her. Nothing good can come out of it.

"Okay, okay." The Director let the other woman grief for a few minutes, before making up her mind and distancing herself from her, "Tell me. What is it?" She tried to make the other look at her, and when she didn't get any response she prompted, "Is this family? Did something happen? Say something dammit, I am imagining worst case scenario here."

The ACP wiped her face with the back of hand, still not saying something. The Director growled in frustration, thinking to shake her and get some answers. How is this possible she broke down right before her, yet not uttering a word about her feelings?

"Are you going to say something?" The latter nearly yelled at her, her whole body vibrating with nervous energy. Finally words failed her, and she gripped the upper arm of the ACP tightly, silently urging her not to test her limit anymore.

After a few moments passed, the Director heard a low, almost missed by ear "He's here."

"He who?" She asked.

She met the former's eyes with an unreadable expression. The Director was taken aback slightly at the sudden movement, at the same time her mind saying something she is missing which is right before her eyes.

"Who's here?" She repeated.

"Him." The ACP replied quietly, still not saying the name of the person. For a moment the Director was almost mad, but then something clicked and she stared at the other woman.

Nobody said anything, engaged in a staring contest of disbelieve and quiet acceptance. The Director blinked a few times before she said anything.

"Who?"

"You know exactly who." The ACP said quietly. The former shook her head in a repeated motion.

"No." She forcefully said, "No, no, that's . . " she bit her lip, "That's insane." She whispered.

"I might have gone insane then." The former gave a bitter, hollow laugh. She gave a sharp, angry look.

"Don't joke about this." Her voice sounded desperate. The smile vanished from the ACP's face as she looked away, her eyes empty. The Director moved away from her, now pacing up and down as she rubbed her fingers in nervousness.

"How he can be . . . " She stopped, suddenly raising her voice as she went, "He is supposed to be dead. Dead! We witnessed his cremation, we saw the priest handing over the ashes!" In a clear state of disbelieve, she looked at the other woman, like she has the answers of this incredulity and mockery of a game that is the Universe playing with them.

"He is not . . . " The ACP replied quietly, voice choking and going to barely audible level, "He was standing in front of me, Aisha. I heard him. He touched me here, " she pointed to her hands, "He was warm. Not cold." Then she shivered slightly.

There was nothing that the other woman could say except 'How' or "why', and she had already surpassed the quota of How's. Shaking her head in disbelieve once again, she asked in a trembling voice, "Why?"

"Don't know." She replied simply, exhaustion taking over her voice, "I can't bring myself to care."

"You didn't ask him." The disbelief just increased tenfold in the Director's voice. The ACP ran fingers through hair as she ducked her head.

"There was a Man, Johny." She started.

"The prime suspect." Director added. The former looked up in surprise.

"You remembered?"

"Of course." She nodded. The ACP stared at her for a few seconds, before looking away.

"I had him. I nearly killed him. I choked the life out of him and he was nearly taking his last breaths, and yet he kept on saying the person who was supposed to be dead in the car blast was the same man who gave him contract to blow it up. I didn't believe him then, but maybe . . . " She paused, "I should have. It all make so much sense now. How nothing felt like it links to the case because nothing had any link to it. There was no case."

The Director gaped in stunned silence as the words flew in. There was so many questions, about how she got to Johny and when she got him, but none of this matters. The Man who was supposed to be dead four years ago was not really dead, and if she believes to the former, he was the one who faked his death. A supposedly dead person was not really dead. What has this world come to?

"You . . . you said you saw him." She said, trying to bring calmness to her voice which didn't stop shaking since the moment she walked into this room.

"He seek me out. He hacked Raghu sir's phone and text me. I thought it was Sir but saw him in the venue." There was a ghost of a smile, "He was always so good at technology, yeah?"  

The nerve of that Man! 

But the expletives or the mini freak out over a not-so-dead person can wait, the priority currently was the woman sitting on the floor who looked wear out in an aching way, eyes hollow and aged like decades had passed. Suddenly Aisha was scared for her, but there was nothing she could say in sympathy or solidarity. Licking her lips, she formed coherent sentences in her mind as she bent down in front of her once-former friend.

"What are you going to do?" She asked quietly. The ACP blinked several times.

"I . . . don't know." The answer was hesitant, unsure. She could not remember hearing that tone ever.

"Are you going to go after him?" She needed to know this time exactly what was the former thinking, what was her plan after this. For so long she had let her do what she wants to, and where did it take her?

"No." She shook her head, "I am . . ." Taking a deep breath, she added with a whisper, "I am done."

The words didn't carry any weight of anger, sense of betrayal, or even exhaustion. It was simply hollow, a reflection of what the other woman was feeling right now. But if Aisha had ever heard a final statement, it was this. She don't know if this was right, leaving things half- baked when it went simply out of control, at the same time heading to a clear direction in a bizarre way, when the former had already invested so much into it. But it was not a decision she could take, it was the other woman's life, her choice. Also, the recent changes were too much to process, she needs a break. She was not going to push her, at least not right now.

"Why don't you go home?" She was startled when the other woman spoke to her, and blinked at the question. She understood what the former trying to do, sending her away. She immediately tensed at the suggestion.

"I am not leaving you alone." She replied.

"You need rest." The ACP pointed out.

"I am not leaving you alone." The Director repeated. The former gave a half smile.

"I am not running anywhere."

"I don't know that for sure." Her voice had the trace of heat. The expression switched to exhaustion.

"Where will I go?" She replied quietly, for a moment miles away from this illuminated discussion room of ETF, before meeting her eyes with a trace of amusement, "It's time I stop driving you crazy."

The Director looked away, "You are staying in the Office." She gave an adamant look to the other, and when she heard no response or protest, she added, "I will order the security to not to let you out of building. If they have to physically restrain yourself, be it."

The ACP didn't say anything as the Director stood up on her feet again and gave her a last look near the door, "I better see you in the morning."

The answer was just a small, hollow smile.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning saw the ACP in the same position she was in yesterday, in a corner of the discussion room and on floor, body hunched over one knee which was pulled near chest, while the other remaining horizontal to the floor. Every now and then her petite frame would shake ever so slightly, which felt more like an internal thing than her body's inability to bear low temperature due to the AC. Her hair were still untied and messy, falling everywhere, making her look like a still picture of painter.

The discussion room's door was opened with minimal sound possible and Arjun entered, his steps immediately haltering seeing her frame. It's not that this was the first time he had seen her spending night in office, still it didn't stop him from worrying. Kneeling down in front of her slowly, he quietly said, "Hey.", his fingers unknowingly reaching for her wrist like it did many times in past. Immediately he noticed how cold she was.

She moved, straightening her back as she raised her head, managing her hair with one hair as she gave a small, throaty "Hey." back, lips curled upward in a barely-there smile. Something squeezed inside him at the simple gesture.

"You are cold." He said. Her eyes finally fell on his fingers and her wrist, her gaze which can be only described as empty.

Without commenting on his previous statement, her eyes unknowingly went on his hand, because all the other time he had brought her Coffee, her favorite McD, maybe a part of her had hoped he would bring this time also. He seemed to sense what she was looking for, as his face went apologetic.

"The shop was closed. I could not bring it." He explained quietly.

"It's okay." She whispered, still not meeting his eyes. The air went heavy with unsaid answers and unspoken questions, and he cleared his throat before breaking it.

"You took off again yesterday." He scolded lightly, "And you didn't even return my call."

"It won't happen again." She answered in the same quiet tone. He frowned at the tone, but before he could call her out on it, the door was burst open behind them. He turned, and saw the Director looking like she had ran from somewhere like a bat out of hell, looking worried and disheveled, but it was gone as soon as her eyes fell on the ACP. He felt like the other woman was clearly worried about not seeing the ACP, and was relieved to see her again. She barely composed herself when she noticed the Second-in-Command much later than she would normally, sparing him a nod.

"If you will excuse us for a few moments."

He nodded back, leaving the two lady alone even though his eyes remained glued on them. The Director kneeled in front of the ACP on the exact same place where he was sitting a few moments ago, her face compassionate and, if he can say, careful as she stared at the other woman. Then both shared a small smile, before the Director stood up, after a few moments offered a hand to the other who took it, pulling herself up.

"You are here." The Director said, internally sighing in relief. The ACP tilted head.

"I said I will stop driving you crazy."

"I am glad." She replied, before taking in her appearance, "Go and freshen up. We will talk later."

She nodded mostly to herself, "Yes, we need to." To which, the Director frowned a bit, before shaking it off. Taking a step toward the other woman, she lightly held her upper arm.

"I wanted to say Thank you." She said, and started to explain at the surprised expression of the former, "We always have a choice when it comes to show our grief to other people. I am glad you chose me."

"You have my selfishness to thank for that." The ACP replied dryly.

"Then I am thankful to your selfishness." The former replied, then sobered up, "Go. The team will be arriving any time now."

Rawte had to look away when the Director came out, nodding at him as she left. Inside the discussion room, the ACP ran fingers through her messy curls for the umpteenth number time since last 20 hours, making it messier, and her eyes out of focus as she stared at something. She looked unnaturally still, frozen, which made him want to reach out to her, but it was gone the next moment as she straightened her spine, turning on her heels and making a way toward locker room.

He didn't know for sure, but it looked like much had transpired since last afternoon.

Our life is made by the death of others.

-Leonardo da Vinci

The huge chunk of cloud grumbled angrily over the Cemetery, on cue the thunderstorm flashed so full of sound and fire that it nearly blinded and deafened the people present for the funeral. An angry blow of wind made the rain to fall squarely, making the people wet as the priest desperately tugged on his umbrella, his voice never faltering to utter the ceremonial hymns properly. Agent Rahane looked down and idly noticed his shoe was already ruined due to wet earth and water, his eyes looking but mind not quite registering.

The priest finished his eulogy and motioned the people to come one by one and bid their last goodbyes. People formed a cue, slowly walking near the six feet deep grave, their face regretful and hands filled with wet earth. A wail was heard somewhere in the background as Rahane stepped away after dropping soil to the grave, his hands in the rain, letting the rain wash away the dirt.

Standing with others in a side, he saw the memorial house workers filling the grave quickly, their frame drenched completely and shaking ever so slightly. The sob has quietened down, but it has not stopped, a sniff or two audible even over the sound of wind and thunderstorm. He moved his head and saw the older lady, the mother of the deceased, desperately clutching tightly on the hands of her 16 year old daughter, whose face was a mask of stoicism.

The grave was filled at last and people started to leave, shaking hands with the two ladies and extending their apologies yet again. When the cemetery was almost empty, except Rahane, some IB officers, and them both, the Deputy Chief and his Boss moved ahead, his driver standing beside him and holding the umbrella over his head even though rain drenching him totally. He stopped in front of the duo and handed something over, covered in the Indian flag. From the way the older lady's face crumbled, it looked like the last remains of the deceased.

Jackson Horatio Harper. Loving Son and Brother.

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;

We will grieve not, rather find

Strength in what remains behind

In their field, they don't say people died. They say casualty happened. Human life reduces to mere words, accidents and body numbers in less than few hours, even though there is some warmth still left in him or her. There will be a sad shake of head or two, then they are back to work. Gone, and forgotten.

Maybe they forget casualty doesn't end with the deceased. The deceased leave behind open wounds which never heals, sometime repressed and out of place anger. God didn't take them, human did. Sometime Rahane wonders what's the da*n point of their work, if they can't wipe off this entire species of sub-human piece of scums. If they can't stop 'Casualties’ from happening.

He had thought the deceased won't even get the recognition of their work, of why they are taken too soon from Earth, all in the favor of country's benefit and greater good. But they got, with another cover story. For the families of the deceased, they died out of the country, amidst desert and dry heat. They will never know the agents were not really prepared for death to show itself. It was sudden, taking them all by surprise. At least they didn't suffer, though this fact couple with the recognition of their service for country doesn't really feel like any consolation. Maybe because it's not. Nothing can equate itself with Human life. Nothing.

The Mother of the deceased tightly held the flag against her chest, maybe fooling herself that she is really hugging her son. Her daughter composure faltered at the same time, her bottom lip trembling.

Rahane turned on his heels and walked out of the cemetery, the Cloud grumbling loudly for the uncountable number of times.

He was near his car when he saw the text.

CALL ME IF YOU ARE FREE.

Sighing, he closed the umbrella and put it on the backseat of car as he sat inside, his thumb ghosting over the contact details of ACP Mukherjee. He had nothing for her at the moment, but she texted and it's the basic courtesy which he always follows.

The phone rang once and then he heard her voice, "Can you talk?"

"That's why I am calling." He said dryly, his eyes glancing sideways to the cemetery, "I have nothing for you right now."

"I wanted to ask you something." The hesitation in her voice made him snap out, "I want to come clean to my team. Tell them everything. But it also means I have to mention you and Delhi."

He sat up straight, "No." He flat out refused, before frowning, "Why this sudden generosity?"

He could hear her sigh and picture her running fingers though hair in frustration, "Because." She didn't emphasize. Not that he was expecting, but still he could not stop asking.

"Delhi is off limits. Also the partnership between you and me, and Haqqani. You can't mention any of them Riya." He warned.

"Okay." Came the whispered reply, and there was silence on the other side. Just when he thought she was not going to extend his courtesy and cut this call abruptly, she added, "Good luck." before hanging up.

His frown deepened as he stared at the blank screen of his phone, trying to understand what's this all about. But then the cloud grumbled once again, and he realized he was not really in the mood to brainstorm right now. He looked at the cemetery yet again, a touch of bitterness in his eyes.

That's how it will be, He said to himself. Everything he did, doing and will do for this work, and it will end up like this.

He just hoped his body won't rot for a month in morgue before receiving this minimal 'Thank you' from his department and country.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Are you sure?"

Raghu sir's voice came through the phone, the frown on his face was audible. ACP Mukherjee rubbed her temple, not answering immediately.

Is she?

"It's the right thing." She said instead of a proper yes or no. He echoed her sigh.

"As you wish." Pausing, he added in a gentle tone, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No." She replied, "I . . . I need to do it myself."

Shutting her phone, for a moment she looked around, feeling trapped in her own body. The dull hum of the office calmed her down slightly, and taking a deep breath, she made up her mind.

The Team started the discussion when she and Director entered together, the latter giving her a slight nod before settling. The details of the discussion went past her mind as the ACP found herself getting out of focus more than once, words buzzing in her ear but her mind not quite registering.

When the team was getting up for their respective task, she jerked herself into action, "Everyone." She said quietly, but they did hear her, pausing in their activity.

"I want to have a word with you all." She side eyed the frowning Director which turned into concern in seconds, "After work, if you all are free, we can have a meeting here."

The team gave a look at each other, silently asking what's this is all about, but no question came out of their lips. They nodded, and headed out, not before the Second-in-Command penetrated her with an intense gaze.

The Director was up as soon as they all left, "What's this all about?"

"You will know soon." The former replied. She huffed.

"I want to know before hand, so that if any surprise comes forward I can handle myself." Her voice had a touch of irritation. The ACP pinched her eyes shut and took a breath.

"You always had so many questions." She said, lowering her voice further, "What I did, where I went. It's the last day of your questions." She met the other woman's eyes, who looked surprised, but before she could response the ACP was heading out.

Arjun was glancing at Riya every now and then as he drove through the traffic. Something was definitely wrong, and he was not the only one who noticed it. The ACP was unusually quiet for past 4 days, and it's not her usual broody self. Earlier, her silence used to speak volumes, but its just empty, devoid of anything. He was pretty sure half the time she was not paying any attention to whatever that was going around her. When Sameer raised his eyebrow silently at him behind her back at her behavior, he could not even bring himself to berate him for that, he was worried himself.

"So . . " he started, and the ACP snapped out of the trance, till now staring outside, "what's this meeting all about?"

"You will know soon." She said quietly. There was no witty remark or sarcasm in it. He blinked once.

"Just give me some spoiler."

"It's not an exam." She looked away once again, "The preparation is all for me."

He didn't get the meaning behind her cryptic words, but as he slowed the SUV near a red light, he did notice the exhaustion in her face.

"You should take a break." He said, to which she met his eyes, surprised, "You look exhausted, and every day I find you in office. You are going to drive yourself crazy with work."

She gave a small, almost rueful smile, as she ducked her head, "On the contrary," her voice was barely a whisper now, "I am working so that I don't drive myself crazy."

"What's supposed to mean by that?" He asked, but before he can ask more or she can reply, the light went green and cars were honking behind him. Irritated, he started driving, but made up his mind to ask her later.

The gold idol of a 200 year old Lord Ganesha temple was stolen 2 days ago, and after police did a further poor job preserving the crime scene, the Temple trust used their power and demanded to let some other agency to handle this case. Entered ETF, who looked already pissed at the job of police before them, but nonetheless prepared themselves for a long week, possibly month of a case.

The team stood in front of the podium, the emptiness of an idol glaringly obvious. The priest was ranting about the day he came to do daily worship and found the Ganesha missing, without the team having to ask him. Liza and Shree hovered around the area along with her CSI team, Sakshi took some pictures for her new paper with her smart phone, then some of the architecture because the temple doesn't allow cameras inside. Chotu and Sameer were outside, talking with the local police officers who were working on it since day 1.

Due to the stealing, the temple was largely empty, but it's not only Ganesha who used to reside in here. Beside his empty spot stands Laxmi and Lord Shiva, who were still enjoying their daily worship, even though the grandeur had been reduced drastically. The priest prodded the CSI team gently to clear up their work soon, because the time for daily worship is nearing. Liza gave a semi glare in irritation, but Shree handled it, and just as the Priest stood with garlands and lamps, they finished.

The team along with several other devotees stood as the priest began the ceremony, uttering hymns. Liza noticed every action with hawkeye, Sakshi adjusted her dupatta and put it over head as the men sans Arjun folded their hands in front of the Gods. He turned his head to look at the ACP, who looked ahead dispassionately, her expression that of an Atheist's. He himself was not sure in which category he falls. Even though in darkest time he remembers lord's name, it feels like a habit ingrained in mind since childhood. He is not sure what the lord will do if Man doesn't take any action, so even as he semi-folded his hands in front of the idol as the minutes passed and did accept the prasad, he was not sure if he should eat it and keep on his faux- belief, or he should throw it away, though it will be a clear act of disrespect.

The priest stood in front of Riya who took immediately a step back. He frowned.

"You should not disrespect the Lord by not accepting his blessings."

"I don't believe in his existence." She said, "So accepting it will be disrespecting."

He looked scandalized, but covered it as Sakshi quickly came forward for damage control, taking more sweets than necessary and shoving it to Chotu-Shree.

Once outside, Arjun threw away the sweet, earning another raise of eyebrow from Sameer who, thankfully, said nothing.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What do you think she wants to talk about?" Chotu was whispering as they settled for the 'meeting' as called by ACP Mukherjee, to which the IT expert frowned, himself thinking the same question.

"I am not sure." He muttered.

"You know what I think?" The crime journo jumped.

"Brace yourself." Sameer muttered, and Arjun rolled his eyes as he went to take a sip of water, which went unheard by the Journo.

"I think she is getting married."

The water was out of Arjun's mouth as he coughed violently. The duo gave identical horror filled looks and Sameer looked ready to laugh as he patted the back of his best friend in sympathy.

"What?" The jounro looked offended, "Didn't you all notice how quiet she has become? And those phone calls which came at random hours? I think it's a guy." She said proudly.

"Nonsense much?" Arjun's voice had the heat even though it was rough from coughing. Sameer bit his lip to stop himself from laughing and cleared his throat.

"I don't think we will be getting invitation cards even when she is getting married, Sakshi." He said instead, earning a glare from his friend sitting beside, "I feel it will be registered marriage, or straight eloping, you know?"

"But she will need witnesses, right?" She pressed.

"I think that's enough." The Second-in-Command finally stopped coughing and tried to dismiss the topic in a stern voice, to which the duo turned to give him look.

"You don't like our wedding theories?" Sameer's voice had the underlying teasing everyone heard but nobody understood. The former glared.

"Don't encourage her."

"Hey!" Came the offended exclamation.

The door was opened at the same time and all of them went silent, eyeing the Director and ACP entering together. For some reason, these two were arriving together for awful lot of times in past couple of days, giving an impression they are attached at hips. They took their seats and everyone eyed the ACP, silently urging her to start whatever this is. After a few beats have passed, she turned her chair to face them, leaning forward.

"I wanted to have this meeting because . . . " She paused, forming words in mind before she spoke, "the moment I walked into this place, I have not been entirely truthful to you people." Everyone sat straight at the declaration, "What am I about to tell you, though hardly concern all of you, yet I am confessing so that many questions you have for me will be cleared out and I don't have to carry on this lie anymore." She paused, licking her lips once, "The questions end today."

Everyone listened with rapt attention as she stopped yet again, clearly struggling to speak whatever it is.

"I am not really sure from where I should start . . . " she looked down in her own reflection, "Okay. . . I think by now you have guessed it, or maybe you know. Still I am saying it. Director Kapoor, Aisha," she said the name softly, "and Me were friends back in academy. We worked together after our posting for several months."

From the looks of it, neither the Director nor the team was prepared for this. She glanced at them once, taking in their surprised eyes which went back and forth to the women, and resumed.

"I handed over my resignation after serving 2 years. The reason was a case which was shut down after one year of investigation. The handling officer refused to waste more time into it, and I wanted to investigate it on my own. But the job was holding me back, so I quit."

"Why the case was so important?" Chotu asked. She looked straight into his eyes and for a moment he cowered, thinking it was a mistake to ask this.

"The person was close to her." The answer came from the Director, trying to make the matter less hard.

"I was in relationship with the Man." ACP Mukherjee uttered calmly, earning shocked gasps and widened eyes among the team mates. Even the Director looked thrown by the confessing, clearly thinking she will never go to that zone.

"I am sorry." He whispered, feeling sorry for her loss.

"I am not." She said with a touch of bitterness, the words taking different meaning for her and rest of them.

"It was a bomb blast case. The M.O. pointed toward a suspect, who is a contract killer. He went in hiding after the case, so when police could not find him, they were not willing to spend more resources for him." She went on, "The name is familiar to you all. Johny."

After a few moments, it was Sameer who spoke, "The guy who was arrested some 5-6 months ago? That was the culprit?"

She didn't answer to it, "After I quit, I went dark. It was 3 years until I returned."

"Sheen." Arjun spoke quietly. She met his eyes.

"Yeah. Raghu sir called me . . . I still don't know why." She frowned.

"He wanted someone who could overlook the line of rules and willing to get that extra length to get what he wants." The Director said, remembering the same words the Commissioner had said when she had asked him later why he called the ACP, "He was worried for his daughter, and unapologetic of the decision till now."

"After the case, he called me to meet him. He wanted me to stay, but I didn't want to." She resumed, "He said he can reopen the case if I stay, that he has some Intel which is sufficient to start the investigation again."

"Where were you in these years?" The Director asked the question which was bothering her the moment her former best friend walked into her crime scene and her life. She looked at her.

"I was in city."

"You were not in your apartment." The former accused.

"I was not in there." She licked her lips, "I needed people, who were shadows, who were everywhere and went unnoticed. I needed people who can do my bidding and find Johny." She paused, "I was staying in a hotel, in a red light area."

"That was unsafe." The Director inhaled sharply as she glared, "And so bloody stupid."

"I can take care of myself." The ACP quirked her lip upward in an attempt to smile, but didn't go that far, her face clouding once again as she dived into her story, "I was successful, I had people. They were out there, getting info about Johny, but later I came to know the reason nobody knew absolutely nothing about him was because he is part of a powerful gang. He had not set foot in this city since the bomb blast case."

"How you got them?" Sakshi asked the first question, "The informers, I mean."

She took a few moment to answer, her voice quiet, "In many way, but primarily, I manipulated a situation so that my old Inspector colleagues run to them and arrest them. Then I made a deal with both of them. In that way they were under my debt. I think they had an impression even though I am ex-IPS, I had friends in high places and I can save them. An Illusion which was broken after . . . "

"Junaid died." Arjun supplied. All eyes went to him, silently asking how he knows that, but he remained silent.

"Yes." She nodded, "Junaid's death made them realize I am just using them, and that their lives means nothing to me."

"That's not true." Shree protested. She met his eyes.

"No, that's true to some extent." She exhaled slowly, "I will never pick them over justice."

Silence descended in the room after this confession, only the sound of breaths audible in their ear. The ACP leaned back in her seat as she carried on after a short interval.

"All the time I left without any word in middle of work, I was working on this 'Personal' case." She started, "I told him to keep this between us two, and he kept my words. He even stepped in countless time when my and your paths were about to cross, one of them was Aslam's murder case." She stopped as the team tried to remember the familiar name and case, "If he had not, I would have been the prime suspect for murdering Aslam."

"What?!" Exclaimed the crime journo and Chotu jointly.

"How?" Sameer frowned, beside him best friend echoing the similar thought.

"We found that van, remember? That van, those bruises on his face, that broken tooth, that was all me." She replied devoid of emotion as their eyes widened in shock once again, "My finger prints were all over the van."

"Liza brought me the report." Director said as soon as she paused, "She was sure it was a mistake."

"It was no mistake." Arjun connected the dots, "Raghu sir came in with the surveillance pictures, and we left that connection."

"We had the questions about the origin of van." Sameer frowned, "You, apart from the killer, was the last person to see him alive."

The ACP nodded wordlessly, "He was part of the same gang as Johny's. Interrogating him just confirmed what I was getting from the whispers in the dark, and that he is not in city." She released another deep breath, "The next day he was dead, and ETF were called in to handle it."

"Your both worlds were colliding. Your worst nightmare." Sakshi said. The ACP gave a small mocking smile as she met her eyes.

"I already was living in it."

She looked taken aback at the comment.

"Raghu sir paid a visit to Iqbal in jail and asked me to come. I along with another officer tried to make him see co-operating with police will benefit him greatly. That time, I didn't give a da*n to what Sir wanted, I wanted him to call Johny and tell him to arrive in the city, by whatever means possible."

"You took the violence route." Director said.

"Yes." She confirmed. "He did what I asked him to. Johny thought he is taking over the gang so he agreed to come. Raghu sir wanted him to follow up Iqbal's info, but I wanted him first. So I sent my people to pick up Johny the day he was arriving here, and they ran into Police. Police caught both him and my people, and Sir was furious with me." She eyed them, "The honor killing case. We were out of town."

"After weeks he let me meet Johny. I guess it was his idea of punishment." She shook her head in exasperation, remembering the older man's behavior.

"You were fidgeting." Arjun connected another dot, "You were expecting his call any moment,"

"Yes." She confirmed, beside her Director Kapoor frowned slightly as her eyes went at the Second-in-Command. "I met Johny. I tortured him with a knife. He confessed to the killing, but could not remember who paid him. I tortured him more." They winced at the flat out confession. "He remembered after a few days. I paid him another visit, he described the Man. I didn't believe him. I choked him to death, other officers had to pull me away from him and yet, I didn't believe him." Her face hardened and voice went the original quiet, angry growl as she spoke, "I should have listened to him."

"Who did he describe?" Pushing away the shock over her confessing of torturing someone in the back of his head, Arjun asked urgently. She didn't immediately answer, and their anxiety raised.

"He described Him, didn't he?" Director Kapoor said gently, to which the ACP nodded stiffly. The former exhaled a sharp breath as she pinched her eyes closed, rubbing her temple as if the thought paining her physically.

"Son of a bi*ch." She cursed under breath.

"What is going on?" Sameer asked, "Who did Johny describe?"

"Neel Sahaay." ACP Mukherjee answered. He frowned, not remembering any criminal or case which links to that name from his memory.

"Who is he?"

"My ex- Boyfriend." She replied, and before he could froze at the admission or point out he died in the blast, she added, "He paid for his own death."

They all held their breath at the revelation.

"What nonsense!" Chotu exclaimed first, "He was clearly lying."

"I agree. He must be protecting whoever paid him." Shree said.

"Or the person might have scared him. He must be powerful." Sameer said, confident in his theory but the emptiness in the ACP's eyes making him second guess, quoting his voice with unsureness.

"There is more, is not it?" Arjun said, and this time, the Director gaped openly at him which the former didn't notice. How is it possible the Man clearly know more than the rest of them, than her, yet clueless like all of them? Why there is duality every time it is associated with the ACP?

"Raghu sir had a theory. He thought there might be an imposter involved who might have gained leverage by killing . . . him." She stuttered at the name before using the pronoun, then carried on, "It didn't make any sense, but I didn't have anything else to focus on."

"But then you sent me in that UC op." She turned to look at the Director, who frowned, then remembered as the wrinkle on her forehead smoothened.

"Nasir Jamal."

"The warehouse case?" Shree inquired, surprised, then something clicked, "Did you know he was in there?"

"Yes." Came the instant reply.

"Who were those men with him?" Sakshi asked next. The ACP visibly struggled at the question.

"Nasir's addition brought a lot of complication." She said at last, "I was not alone in finding him. Raghu sir knew about it much later."

"You went behind his back." Chotu said, surprised.

"I could not see anything else. There was nothing else." The bitterness in her voice was back.

"Who else was involved?" Director asked.

"I can't say." The former sounded regretful for the first time, "It was an agreement, I am just honoring my side."

"IB?" Still, the Director guessed. The silence was the only needed reply.

"Why you went after Nasir?" Sameer asked, a question which nagged the Director as well.

"I had seen his contact details in . . . His phone." She again chose not to utter the name, "Director sent me in a small UC op. It was supposed to teach me a lesson." There was ghost of a smile.

"Like I ever succeed."

"You didn't need to." The bitterness was back again, pushing away the light moment. Shaking off her head, she resumed, "There was nothing else for me to go on except him."

"How IB was involved?" Sakshi asked, her tone saying it's more than curiosity. The ACP stared.

"I can't say."

"Then you can't be entirely truthful to us, right?" She narrowed her eyes. The rest of them braced themselves for a catfight as the staring intensified from the ACP's side.

"I am not helping you to settle scores with Agent Rahane, Sakshi." She said instead, making the journo flush.

"It's not about that." She mumbled.

"Is it not?" She stared calmly as she leaned forward, "It's an agency of Espionage. You can't get a scoop about them and publish it, ’cause they won't let you. When they say to walk away, you walk away." She paused, "Some things are better left alone. I learnt it the hard way." She looked down in her own reflection in the table once again, face filled with regret.

Rest of them gave each other a look as the crime journo wore a sullen expression, like a berated child. The ACP took a deep breath, before starting.

"I knew where he was being kept. Those men were supposed to guard him. He literally zipped his mouth when I asked him, barely two questions." She went quiet, "I should have taken the hint." So many clues which said to not to go down that path. All missed.

"You keep blaming yourself." Sameer frowned, "For what?"

The ACP clenched her fist as she replied quietly, "I am the reason Aisha nearly died, Sameer."

They all stopped breathing.

"What?" His voice was strangled. Beside him Arjun kept a warning palm on his hand.

"Shut up." Director Kapoor whispered, "That's not true and we all know it."

"You don't know anything." The ACP argued.

"I know this and that's enough for me." She raised her voice, "So I say you stop with this guilt crap."

"Haqqani's man missed the shot which was supposed to be for IB deputy Chief." Arjun argued, "That's not your fault."

"And who brought him in this city?" She looked at him, the fire in her challenging to contradict her. He blinked.

"You brought him . . . how?" Words failed him. She looked away, face twisted in self -loathing.

"Nasir and Haqqani was connected." She said.

"How?" Sameer asked in a barely controlled tone. She looked at him in regret.

"I can't say."

"That's not fair." He had never spoken to her in that icy voice. In fact, nobody could remember him using that tone.

"Sameer . . . " Arjun warned beside him.

"She just dropped a bomb and not she is not even explaining it!" He exploded, standing up, "How am I supposed to be okay with it?"

"You don't." She also stood up, exhaustion overtaking her, "It's not fair, but my hands are tied."

"Since when you follow protocols?" He said through gritted teeth, "You are the last person to give this excuse."

"Hey!" The Second-in-Command stood up, "I think that's enough." His glare was rivaling the former's icy stare, "She has reasons, and you respect that."

"Not following rules didn't take me far." The ACP replied as the Director stood up in silent solidarity, "It brought hell on all of us."

"You got the culprit." Sameer accused.

"Sameer." Warned the Director. Before any of the team member could take notice of the first name thing and form question the ACP intervened.

"Even better, I got my dead Boyfriend back."

The icy stare and anger vanished from Sameer's face, beside him Arjun went still. Rest of team felt they didn't hear her properly.

"Excuse me?" Came the incredulous question from Arjun. Sameer just stared at her, while the Director collapsed on her seat, looking troubled. Nobody spoke for a few moments, like the time had frozen.

"Why don't we all take a seat?" Aisha whispered, and they followed in a robotic manner, their eyes never leaving from each other's face.

"I think we didn't hear you properly." Shree said, timidly. The ACP gave a bitter smile as she ducked her head, running fingers through her messy curls. Sometime during this meeting, the band was gone, freeing her hair from the earlier disheveled ponytail.

"You all heard exactly what I said." She said, now raising her head and meeting their gazes, "He is alive. He never died in that blast."

"How is this possible?" Sakshi inquired before others could, the sullen expression of earlier taking a backseat at this shocking revelation, "There must have been DNA samples of the body. There must have been identification." She ranted.

"He had rented a white Chevrolet one month before the blast. The car and body was badly damaged. His parents could not identify because it was so  . . . " Her eyes clouded with the ghost of past, "There were his things near it, the clothes he wore that day, his phone, notes for classes." Her voice shook, "He was an ethical hacking student, the course was part time. He was coming out of an Internet cafe. He was a regular there." The words were barely audible due to the choking sound, but she forced herself to raise it, "There was a blue bracelet beside his body. I gifted him that."

"Hush." Aisha whispered beside her, her hands on the former's to stop her. Immediately, she stopped, her breath quickening to compose herself. The rest of team looked torn to process it all and reach out to her in sympathy, Sameer looked ashamed at his earlier outburst.

"He is alive." Arjun spoke after a long time. The ACP nodded.

"How do you know?" Sameer asked in a gentle tone. It was the Director who answered.

"He hacked Raghu sir's phone and sent her a text. She thought its Sir, and went to the rendezvous place." She stopped, but rest of them got the picture. Neel Sahaay must have been standing there at the end.

"He is alive." Sakshi didn't understand what's the sour mood all about. "He is not dead. Are not you happy?"

Before anyone could berate her at the insensitive question, the ACP looked at her, "He is not dead. That means Johny was right, he was the one who paid him, he faked his own death. He remained in dark for 4 years, never made any contact with me or his parents. Whatever the reasons were, I don't think it can be good considering the step he took."

"Did he say why he vanish?" Chotu asked.

"He said dangerous people were after him." Again the Director replied to the question for ACP.

"There." Sakshi waved fingers in air, "He had solid reasons. You said he was a hacker, he might have been stumbled upon something big and had to take the wicked step."

"I don't trust him." Came the quiet reply.

"How do you know that he is back in town?" Sameer asked to the Director, breaking the tension between the two female momentarily.

"I found her in here some days ago." Her face looked ashen, and the team realized whatever the state the ACP was in, it could not have been good. "It took a little bit of prodding." She inhaled sharply, "I still can't believe it." She whispered.

"I don't really understand why you two are being so aghast at this." Sakshi chimed in once again, and Arjun looked ready to blast at her, while Shree looked away in irritation, "He is not dead. He was in trouble but somehow escaped from it. Don't you see it? He reached out to you because he trust you, but you are choosing to not to extend that courtesy." Pausing, she soften her tone, "I get it, we all do. You are feeling betrayed because of the events, for years you pursued his case and now you don't have it anymore. But does it matter, the times of hardship? He is back. Is not it what you always wished for?" She was compassionate.

"I saw it in him." The ACP replied quietly, barely above whisper, "I saw the lie in his eyes, I heard the lies in his words. I felt it."

The crime journo pressed her lips into a thin line, displeasure evident at the answer, "You know, I am starting to think you really loved the thrill of pursuing this case more than you loved him."

Everyone gaped at her in disbelieve.

"Wow." Shree said, "That was a low blow."

"Apologize." Chotu looked away, but even he knew whatever she said, no amount of apology can cover it up.

"I can't believe you just said it." The Director hissed.

Sameer was speechless at her words, while Arjun pinched his eyes shut in frustration, "You . . . "

"Shh." He was shushed by the ACP, who never broke eye contact from the journo. He stopped himself, his body rigid with tension.

"You know, we were vastly different." Her tone was suddenly light, like she is telling a story. In a way, she was, a story of two different people who she was not sure, existed now. "He was a hacker, I am tech-handicapped. He was messy, I don't drink coffee until I wipe the mug with tissue. He was loud, I was quiet." There was an ironic smile, "But one thing was common between us, you know what?"

The crime journo remained silent.

"We both are pathological liars." She leaned forward as she said, "We both can look right into others eyes and lie." Her lips curled upward, "Earlier, the lies were seldom. Now? I lie all the time. I guess he picked up a few tricks as well. But he forgot, a liar are can also detect another liar." She paused, her face hardening, "This time, I got him. In years, I could see him for exactly what he was. If he was always like this . . . " She added in a whisper, "Then maybe I never knew him. Maybe I was in Love with a ghost."

Aisha squeezed her hand at this, to which she exhaled slowly.

"I don't expect anyone of you to agree with me. I saw something, not necessarily mean you will see it as well." She licked her lips, "But I have a bad feeling about him. His return is too co-incidental with everything that is happening."

"You mean Haqqani?" Arjun finally shook off his earlier anger at the crime journo and focused, "You think they both are involved somehow?"

"I am not sure about anything anymore." She looked right into his eyes, "Earlier, everything that came across me made me question how it's related to the case I am working on. Now I know, none of it made sense because none of it was connected. There was no case." She looked away, exhaling, before meeting his eyes again, "But many things happened and happening. With his return . . . " Abruptly she stopped, making him frown, "I don't know. Maybe it's time I stop thinking about it."

They all remained quiet, processing everything, once again the constant inhaling and exhaling of breaths were the only thing audible in the discussion room.

"So that was it." She said after a while, jerking them in reality, "Every lie, every secrets, every time I chose something else over this team and the case at hand, it was all for a non-existent case. I hope every questions end right here." She searched their eyes for questions, but there was sympathy for her. She didn't deserve that, so she looked away, standing up, making them jump.

"I should leave." She said to none particular.

"See you tomorrow?" For the first time, the team could see and hear a foreign emotion on their Director's face, called Fear. The ACP stared, then gave a small smile and nod, before heading out.

As soon as she was out, Sameer opened his mouth in a rush, "I should apologize to her."

The Director exhaled tiredly, rubbing her face as she spoke, "Do it later." She then gave a glare to the Crime journo, "You know, just when I feel you have surpassed the limit of being insensitive, you prove me wrong." She stood up, clapping to humiliate the former further, "Bravo. Keep up the good work."

With that she stormed out, the glass door banging behind her loudly, leaving the crime journo in tears.

One by one they all took their leave, feeling like someone had made a cocktail of their emotion and left them to figure out what they are feeling, because there were so many. Disbelieve, empathy, curiosity, suspicion, and to some extent, disgust. They walked out through the door and headed for their respective houses as they processed.

"Arjun . . . " Sakshi's voice was choked with tears and desperation as the last remaining member of ETF stood up sharply, after he spent some time in his head in silence. He stilled at the tone, but the next moment his whole body was vibrating with earlier anger and offense, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"You . . . " Words failed him. Lowering his voice, he said the only thing he could think right then.

"You disgust me."

After he left, the only audible sound in the semi-dark office was the sob echoing the air.