" I'm sor-"
"DON'T, JUST DON'T SAY IT. YOU DO NOT EVEN DESERVE TO SAY IT AFTER WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME! I BEGGED YOU, SCREAMED AND PLEAD, BUT YOU DIDN'T HEED MY WORDS. THEN WHY SHOULD I!"
I yelled with tears streaming down my face when witnessing m...
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The basement was a cold cavern of flickering screens and stifled hope, its concrete walls absorbing the dim light from overhead bulbs. Rafeeq stood over the central console, his broad shoulders hunched, his eyes locked on the blank map that mocked their relentless efforts to find Suhail and Amaira. Days had bled into one another, each promising lead dissolving into nothing, leaving only a gnawing frustration that clung to the air like damp rot. The hum of computers filled the silence, a constant reminder of their failure, each beep a taunt echoing in the cavernous space.
"Damn it, he's gone dark. We can't pinpoint him or Amaira," Rafeeq shouted, slamming his fist on the table. The impact sent a jolt through the room, rattling a chipped coffee mug and sloshing its cold contents onto scattered papers, their edges curling from neglect. His team flinched, their faces taut, the weight of his anger pressing against them like a physical force. Sweat beaded on their foreheads despite the chill, their hands hovering over keyboards, frozen in the face of his wrath.
"Why is this taking so long? Why can't you find him?" Rafeeq snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the room's oppressive silence. His eyes, bloodshot from sleepless nights, darted across the screens, searching for a flicker of progress that refused to materialize.
A guard, his shoulders hunched under Rafeeq's searing glare, stepped forward, his boots scuffing the concrete floor. His voice was steady, though fear glinted in his eyes, a quiet defiance born of necessity. "Boss, Suhail needs gas to drive. When he runs low, he'll hit a gas station. He might use a credit card under an alias if he's short on cash. We can pay clerks to flag any card transactions or watch for his car. We trace those to ATMs or stores, narrow it to a few kilometers, then check forested areas with isolated houses, perfect for hiding. We spot his car or check recent rentals to find him."
Rafeeq's eyes narrowed, a flicker of approval piercing his rage like a crack in a storm cloud. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the table's edge, knuckles whitening. "Good. I'll alert every gas station in Austria to report anyone resembling him, any card activity, or his vehicle. That'll lead us to his location."
The basement door creaked open, its hinges groaning under the weight of disuse. Adithya entered, his face a mask of cold resolve, the lines etched deeper by grief and guilt. The loss of his sister Pooja, whose vengeful actions had scarred Amaira and Anjali, had stripped the warmth from his eyes, leaving them distant, hollow. His only purpose now was clear: rescue Amaira from Suhail's grasp, a mission that consumed his every thought. "What's happening? Any sign of him?" he asked, his voice low but urgent, each word heavy with unspoken pain.
"We're tracking him through gas station card transactions or his vehicle. It's our best shot," the guard replied, glancing at Rafeeq for confirmation, his posture stiff under the weight of scrutiny.
Adithya nodded, his jaw tight, the muscles in his face rigid with suppressed emotion. The room fell silent again, the air thick with unspoken fears, save for the soft buzz of Rafeeq's phone vibrating against the table. He answered, and Amina's gentle voice came through, a stark contrast to the basement's grim atmosphere, like sunlight breaking through a storm. "Did you find anything?"
