The heavy oak doors of Director Arvind Bansal's office shut behind them with a soft click, leaving a lingering silence in the air that followed the thunder of sharp commands and heavy praise.
"Excellent work," the Director had said, arms folded as he eyed the four young operatives standing in front of him.
His gaze lingered on the one who always stood slightly ahead — not out of arrogance, but responsibility.
Kiaan Verma.
At just 21 years old, he was the youngest field team leader in CBI's elite undercover division.
Trained, lethal, unreadable. His quiet gaze could freeze even seasoned officers.
Director Bansal had smiled briefly — a rare sight.
> "Kiaan. Rehaan. Dev. Tara. You've executed Phase IV of Operation Crimson Vow with precision. That drug bust was vital — and without a single civilian casualty. That's how we lead the war in shadows. I expect a report by morning."
Kiaan nodded. "Yes, sir."
No one missed how Tara stood upright despite the fatigue in her body, or how Kiaan subtly kept a hand behind her back — just in case she needed support.
---
Scene: Coffee Shop – A Moment to Breathe
The cozy hum of the café was a striking contrast to their world — guns replaced by coffee cups, blood by bittersweet chocolate. The four of them sat around a quiet corner table, steam rising from mugs, the air thick with unspoken thoughts.
Tara Iyer stirred her cappuccino with a satisfied smirk.
> "Four minutes. That's all it took me to break into the warehouse's security mainframe. I even looped their camera feeds and erased our entry timestamps."
Rehaan leaned forward dramatically, mock-clapping.
> "Ladies and gentlemen, the hacker mom returns from maternity leave and still makes us look like amateurs."
Kiaan chuckled softly. "I honestly didn't think you'd be back so soon after your delivery. Most people would take a break."
Tara arched an eyebrow, sipping her coffee.
> "Try telling a toddler that mommy hacks cartels for a living. He already thinks I work in a candy store."
Kiaan's gaze turned thoughtful.
> "It's not easy, is it? Being a mother... and being an undercover agent in a world where you don't even know if you'll return alive."
Tara's smile faltered. "No. It's not. But you don't back off from what you're born to do. And I was born to do both."
Their laughter faded slightly as Kiaan's gaze drifted, his smile dimming, eyes glazed like film stuck on replay.
Dev noticed immediately. He placed his cup down, fingers laced.
> "Kiaan. You're zoning out again."
Kiaan didn't reply. His eyes were distant — not here, not now. Trapped in a memory that wouldn't die.
Rehaan leaned in. "Still thinking about that day?"
Silence.
Then Kiaan's voice — quiet, hollow.
> "It's a pending case... even if the files are stamped shut. It isn't closed to me."
Dev shook his head gently.
> "Your father's death was ruled as a casualty of crossfire. You were a child. You couldn't have known, or stopped it."
Kiaan looked down at the table, voice firmer now.
> "He told us to stay inside that night. It was raining. He had this expression... like he knew something was coming. Shaurya ran out into the alley — I followed him. I had to. He was my little brother."
His fists clenched slightly on the table.
> "When I turned around… Dad was gone. Just gone. We found him two days later. Bullet wound to the chest. Execution style. Not crossfire."
The others fell quiet.
Rehaan's voice softened.
> "You've replayed this a thousand times in your head, Kai. I know. But you never said this part before…"
Kiaan's eyes darkened, locked on something only he could see.
> "There was someone there. A boy. My age. Standing in the alley. He wasn't running. He was watching. Just watching it all. Like it didn't scare him. I remember his eyes... empty. I screamed at him to help but he turned around and vanished."
Dev's brows furrowed. "A witness?"
Kiaan shook his head.
> "No... Something else. Something off. He wasn't scared. He didn't even blink. Just stared at me like… like I was the one intruding."
Tara's hand reached across the table, touching his.
> "And you've never forgotten those eyes. That boy."
Kiaan nodded.
> "He would be a man now. Maybe part of something bigger. Maybe he's the key to what happened to Dad."
Tara leaned back, exhaling.
> "You're as stubborn as ever. I knew you wouldn't stop until you got your answers."
Rehaan forced a smile.
> "Then we better buckle up. Because whenever Kai says 'pending case,' someone ends up arrested… or dead."
Dev, serious as ever, murmured:
> "Let's hope whoever that boy is... hasn't already become part of the hell we're trying to take down."
Kiaan finally looked at them — eyes sharp again, but pain behind the steel.
> "If he has... then we'll meet. In daylight or darkness. One way or another, I'll get my answers."
He sipped his now-cold coffee, the bitterness grounding him again. Outside, the wind picked up. Somewhere in the city, a shadow stirred — maybe watching, waiting.