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Her breath was smothered as a hand covered her mouth. She struggled against the grip, her eyes wide with terror. The figure looming over her was obscured by shadows, but Amal's heart stopped when she recognized him-Khizr. The man she had despised now stood before her, sending a rush of unexpected relief and hope through her.

His familiar presence, despite everything he had done, was a strange comfort in the darkness of her fear.

Amal was numb, uncertain how to react. The urgency of the moment demanded quick action, leaving Khizr little time to pay attention to her shock. He didn't seem to notice her trembling or the way her eyes darted around the room, searching for answers in the murky corners.

"Fateh," Khizr whispered, his voice low and sharp, breaking the tense silence that enveloped them.

Fateh seemed to understand the unspoken question. "Managed," he replied curtly, his voice carrying a sense of finality.

Khizr guided Amal to sit in a corner of the room, his grip firm but not unkind. He pointed to the ground, signaling for her to stay quiet. Trembling, Amal nodded, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She sank to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Fardeen will be here with you," Khizr said, directing his words to another man standing near the door, whose eyes were scanning the room, taking in every shadow and every sound.

Still shaken, Amal eyed the stranger suspiciously. "You, where-" she began, her voice barely a whisper, raw with fear.

"I'll be outside," Khizr cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "No noise, remember?" His eyes bored into hers, intense and unyielding. Amal nodded obediently, burying her face in her knees and covering her ears to block out the noises. The tension in the room was suffocating, pressing down on her like a weight.

Khizr stood up, giving Fardeen a quick, meaningful glance. Fardeen responded with a thumbs-up, his expression serious. The two seemed to communicate without words, understanding the gravity of their situation.

Amal sat in the dark, hugging her knees tightly. Every muscle in her body was taut with fear, her mind racing. Outside, the warehouse erupted in chaos-gunfire, shouts, screams. Each crack of a gunshot made her flinch, her body jerking involuntarily. Her heart pounded, panic creeping in from all sides. The sounds outside were a violent symphony, a grim reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond the thin walls of the room.

Fardeen stood by the door, his body tense, listening intently. "Stay calm," he whispered, though his own eyes were sharp with tension, betraying his attempt at calmness. "Khizr Bhai has control. It'll be over in twenty minutes or so."

Amal nodded, but his reassurance barely dented her fear. The sounds of fighting grew louder, closer, as if the violence was closing in on them. Her breath came in short gasps, her eyes wide with dread. She squeezed her knees tighter, trying to make herself smaller, invisible. All she could do was trust Khizr-a man she had once sworn never to trust.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Fateh appeared, breathing hard, his face flushed with exertion. "It's done. We've taken the warehouse. It's safe now. Khizr is outside."

Relief crashed over Amal, so powerful that she nearly collapsed. Her legs felt weak, like jelly. Fardeen guided her out of the room. They navigated through smoky corridors, stepping over debris and fallen bodies. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and sweat, mingling with the acrid stench of fear and desperation.

As they entered the main area, she saw Khizr standing among his men, issuing orders. His voice was calm, his posture commanding, exuding a confidence that seemed out of place in the midst of such chaos. When he spotted her, his expression remained firm, unreadable. He signaled toward a car with a glance, his silent command clear.

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