Shadows Of The Stumps

Say Hello

The room was dim, the air heavy with tension. A single overhead bulb cast long shadows over the steel table. Arjun stood, arms crossed, eyes locked onto the man seated across from him — Rivaan. His face was blank, except for the quiet defiance in his eyes.

Kiara stood by the door, clipboard in hand, watching both men like a hawk.

“You were on comms duty the night before the mission,” Arjun began, his voice low but edged. “You had the schedule. The route. The fallback codes.”

Rivaan didn’t flinch. “Yeah. And so did half the base.”

“Don’t get clever.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you the truth.”

Arjun paced slowly, his boots thudding against the concrete. “You were acting strange when I asked about Meera’s coordinates that morning.”

“I was scared. We all were.”

“And then Rehman said you didn’t show up for final brief.”

“Because I was in the comms shed running diagnostics — you can check the log.”

Kiara nodded, quietly flipping through her notes. “He’s not lying. There’s an access timestamp from 03:40 to 05:15. The blackout happened right after.”

Arjun stared at Rivaan for a long second — his instincts had screamed one thing. But his gut now… said something else.

“You think I’d betray them?” Rivaan said finally, his voice cracking. “I was the one who trained under Arya. I was the one who taught Meera how to decode insurgent chatter. You think I’d—”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Arjun muttered, slamming his hands on the table. “Someone gave them away. Someone from inside. And while Meera was bleeding in some goddamn tavern with her best friend dead beside her, the rest of us were waiting for a clearance that never came.”

Silence.

Kiara glanced up. “There’s one more name,” she said. “Same clearance level. Same access.”

Arjun turned to her slowly.

“Who?”

Kiara hesitated, then handed over the file. “Lieutenant Kunal Sharma.”

Arjun’s eyes scanned the document — Kunal: logistics head, a man who had never gone into the field, often dismissed as too by-the-book. Too polite. Too clean.

Too invisible.

“He filed a leave application the morning after the op,” Kiara added. “Said it was family-related. But intel says he never left town.”

Rivaan’s brows furrowed. “Kunal? He’s... he barely talks.”

“Exactly,” Arjun said grimly. “No one notices a ghost.”

He turned to Rivaan and uncuffed him. “You’re off this table. For now. But stay close.”

Then to Kiara, his tone iron: “Bring Kunal in. Quietly. I want every move of his tracked. We find out who he’s been talking to. We find out why.”

Arjun hadn't spoken in a while. His hands were clasped tightly, jaw locked. Maithili nursed her dislocated shoulder, wrapped in gauze and stiff with dried blood, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“I was wrong,” Arjun finally said, his voice almost a whisper.

Maithili turned to him. “About?”

“Rivaan. I thought he tipped them off.” He shook his head slowly. “Turns out he was exactly where he said he was — in the comms unit, trying to fix a signal break.”