Fight For Right

Chapter: 5

Randhir struggled fiercely, trying to free himself, but their grip was unyielding. They threw him into a Jeep and started the engine. After half an hour, they reached the Aggarwal mansion and dragged him out. Helpless, with the black cloth still over his eyes, he had no idea where he was being taken.
They threw him into a room, slammed the door, and locked it behind him.
R: "Koi hai? Koi hai?"
His voice echoed, unanswered. Exhausted and terrified, he finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Suddenly, cold water splashed over him, snapping him awake. Panic surged as the black cloth was yanked off his face. He blinked, adjusting to the light—and froze.
Sanyukta was sitting across from him, calm and composed, a gun resting casually in her hand.
S: "Ke haal se, Tarah doctor?"
R: "Mujh yahan kyun laya gaya hai aise?"
Fear edged his voice.
S: "Ary doctor, tu na dar. Tu badi kaam ki cheez se... poore gaon main tu hi ek doctor se."
Randhir's mind raced. He couldn't understand her motives for abducting him.
S: "Doctors, tu ziada soch mat."
She leveled her gun toward him.
S: "Maare bapu ki tabiyat theek na se. Tarahe ko unki tabiyat theek karni se."
His throat went dry. Fear surged through him, yet he knew it was his duty to treat her father. With a hesitant nod, he silently agreed.
Sanyukta's lips curved into a satisfied smile.
S: "Yeh hui na baat, doctor."
She walked out of the room, leaving him trembling but determined.
An hour later, two men returned. They bound his hands and legs no longer and dragged him out. The corridor was dark, the shadows long and intimidating. They led him to the hall, where he saw Sanyukta's brothers sitting, their expressions unreadable. But Sanyukta herself was nowhere in sight.
He searched the room, mentally scolding himself for thinking about the murder he had witnessed.
Suddenly, she appeared. With a subtle hand gesture, she commanded the men to follow her.
She stopped in front of a room, opened it, and stepped inside. The men forced him in after her.
Inside, Randhir saw a man with a white beard lying on a bed, blood staining his clothes. His heart pounded. The men released him, and he moved cautiously toward Kishore.
Checking his temperature, he noted it was dangerously high. A medical kit sat on a nearby table. He picked it up, pulled out the stethoscope, and began examining him with careful precision. Five minutes passed in tense silence.
Finally, he looked toward Sanyukta.
R: "Koi ghabrane ki baat nahi hai. Fever ki wajah se woh behosh hai aur chot bhi ghairi hai."
Sanyukta's eyes sparkled at his words, relief flooding her features. And once again, Randhir found himself mesmerized by her dark brown eyes.
S: "Toh theek se, doctor. Jab tak maare bapu pura theek na ho jaata, tu yahi rahega."
R: "Par..."
Before he could finish, she placed a finger gently over his lips, silencing him. Randhir swallowed and nodded, understanding he was not to speak further.
Two worlds collided—one of fear and power, the other of duty and morality. And yet, their destinies had become inseparably entwined.
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