25 February 2031 – Gulshan-2 – 11:42
The Mercedes purred to a stop in front of a towering fourteen-story apartment complex. Its glass façade gleamed in the late-morning sun, reflecting the swirl of rickshaws, sedans, and pedestrians moving along the wide streets of Gulshan. The building had the kind of quiet authority that screamed money—doormen in pressed uniforms, polished brass fixtures at the entrance, and an armed guard discreetly stationed near the gate.
Naser shifted in his seat, glancing at Sohel. "Go inside and wait in front of the lift. I'll put the car in the garage and meet you there."
Sohel stepped out into the crisp air, moving toward the boot to grab his bag, but Naser waved him off. "Leave it. I'll have someone bring it up."
Sohel frowned slightly—someone?—but didn't press the point. The lobby smelled faintly of fresh flowers and lemon polish. A crystal chandelier cast soft light over the marble floors, and the quiet hum of the air conditioning was the only sound besides the muted footsteps of residents coming and going.
A moment later, Naser appeared beside him. "Let's go."
The elevator doors slid open with a smooth chime. They stepped inside, the polished chrome walls reflecting their figures, and rode silently to the top floor.
When the doors opened, Sohel found himself facing a massive set of dark wood double doors with gold trim.
"This yours?" he asked, trying—and failing—not to sound impressed.
"Yup," Naser said with a casual smirk. "Go on. Open it."
Sohel pushed the door open, stepping into a space that looked like it belonged in a lifestyle magazine—soft cream walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, a panoramic view of the city skyline.
He barely had time to take it in before a blur of movement rushed toward him. A young woman, maybe twenty-four, appeared out of nowhere and slapped him—hard. The sharp crack echoed in the quiet.
"What the—"
Before he could even register the sting, she wrapped her arms around him in a sudden hug. The conflicting gestures left him frozen in place.
Over her shoulder, he saw Tahmid and Ovi lounging on the couch, grinning like cats that had caught a mouse. And just like that, he understood—this was a setup.
He gently pulled back and met her gaze. "You know that slap hurt, Mitali."
"You deserved it," she said, her eyes glassy with tears.
Sohel turned to Naser, narrowing his eyes. "You didn't think to mention they were here?"
Naser just shrugged. "It was a surprise."
Sohel faced Mitali again. "And you—any harder and my teeth would be scattered across this very expensive floor."
"You deserved it for disappearing without a word," she said, her voice soft but firm.
For a brief moment, Sohel's expression hardened, a shadow passing over his face. Naser caught it instantly and stepped in.
"Alright, enough drama for now. Sohel, go upstairs, freshen up."
---
Upstairs, the hallway stretched wide, lined with closed doors. Plush carpet muted his footsteps. How much is he making these days? Sohel wondered, not for the first time.
"Second door on the left!" Naser's voice floated up from below.
Inside, the room was immaculate—king-sized bed, soft lighting, and his duffel bag sitting neatly in front of the closet. He stared at it for a moment. When did this get here? And who brought it up?
Shaking off the thought, he grabbed a towel and a fresh change of clothes. The ensuite bathroom was almost spa-like—glass shower, rainfall head, and the faint scent of eucalyptus from a diffuser in the corner.
Half an hour later, showered and dressed, he headed downstairs. Laughter drifted from the living area, warm and familiar. The sight of his friends together again after so many years made his chest tighten in an unexpected way.
Tahmid noticed him standing at the stairs. "Careful. If you keep watching us like that, we'll start thinking you're some creepy stalker."
Sohel chuckled and joined them on the sofa. Conversation flowed easily, full of old stories and inside jokes, until Ovi leaned forward with a mischievous grin.
"You know, since we're all here, why don't we go on a trip?"
The suggestion sparked immediate interest. They tossed around ideas—beaches, hill tracts, even Sylhet—until Sohel's phone vibrated in his pocket.
One glance at the caller ID wiped the humor from his face. "I need to take this. Keep talking," he said, standing and heading upstairs again.
---
The door clicked shut behind him as he answered.
"So? Did you make contact with the suspect? What's your read?" The woman's voice on the line was cool and efficient.
"I did," Sohel said. "No sign of NWO affiliation yet. I'll keep watching him."
"Are you sure you have the time? Medusa and Blast are already en route to Rooppur. You need to meet them. If he's tied to NWO, you'll know soon enough."
"I know. But—"
"No buts, Lieutenant. You have a mission to lead. Don't mix personal feelings into this."
"…I'll try. Thanks, Princess. Talk soon."
He ended the call, staring at the silent phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket.
---
"How about Pabna?" he said as he rejoined them downstairs. His tone was casual, but the decision had already been made in his head. "We could check out the nuclear power plant—and enjoy the countryside."
Naser grinned. "Or we could drop Ovi off at the mental hospital there to cure his girl-chasing addiction."
The room erupted in laughter.
"I'm in," Naser said. "I have to go there soon anyway for a field inspection."
The others nodded.
"Let's go," Tahmid said. "I'm all for the scenery."
"I might finally get a girlfriend there," Ovi joked.
Mitali smiled. "Everyone agrees, so why not?"
"Alright then," Sohel said. "It's settled. We're going to Rooppur tomorrow."
Tahmid raised a fist. "Operation Rooppur, here we come!"
The laughter that followed was genuine—except for Sohel's. His own was an act, hiding the truth that if they knew what awaited them in Rooppur, the smiles would vanish in an instant.