CHAPTER LXIV
I sat quietly in the police station, lost in thought, trying to make sense of what had just happened. What is Mon doing in Mumbai? And more importantly… how does Hannah know her? The question circled my mind like a storm refusing to calm.
Just then, our Mumbai Head Police Officer walked in. The room immediately stood at attention. As soon as I saw him, I stood up and saluted — a reflex deeply embedded in my training.
He gave a faint nod and stepped into my cabin, looking at me with a seriousness that made my posture straighten unconsciously. "Sam," he began, "I called you here on short notice for a reason. Crime rates in Mumbai have been escalating — not just at night anymore. Even in broad daylight, girls are disappearing. Young women aged between sixteen and twenty-nine are vanishing without a trace. Some from homes, some from public places, some even from safe zones."
His voice turned heavier. "We've tried everything. Our best officers have run multiple operations, but no matter how many suspects we bring in… the disappearances don't stop. It's like the culprits are always one step ahead."
I listened in silence, my hands tightening slightly behind my back. Something about his tone, the urgency, made my heartbeat quicken.
The officer continued, "But we've been watching you, Sam. And there's something… unique about your presence. Whenever you're stationed in an area, the crime rate drops significantly. You have an instinct, a presence, whatever it is — and we need that now more than ever."
He took a step closer and added, "That's why I've assigned you to lead a new special unit. Since this case involves missing girls, it's only right that the team should include strong, capable women who understand the depth of this situation."
As if on cue, the cabin door opened, and several officers stepped inside.
I turned to see who they were… and my breath hitched in my throat.
There she was — Mon.
Standing tall in uniform, serious and unreadable. Our eyes met for a fleeting second. A storm passed between us, silent and sharp, before we both looked away. I could feel my heart knocking against my ribs, but I swallowed the emotion. This was not the time. This was duty.
Alongside Mon were three others: Anshuman Singh, the calm strategist I'd heard about; Anamika Mishra, one of the most disciplined field officers in our division; and Ritu Singh, sharp, fearless, and quick with her instincts.
"This is your team," the head officer announced. "You five have full authority. I don't care what you have to do — break rules if needed, use any method you deem fit. But find those responsible. Do not let them walk free. Is that clear?"
Without a second's hesitation, we all stood in a line, shoulders back, eyes forward.
"Yes, sir," we echoed in unison, our voices strong and firm.
As the room cleared out, I stood silently, aware that this mission was going to be more than just about saving lives. It was going to test my strength, my loyalty, and above all — my heart.
Because working with Mon again wasn't just unexpected…
It was dangerous.
For the case.
And for me.
We all began our investigation immediately, driven by the urgency of the case. As we started digging through the reports, a disturbing pattern began to emerge — most of the missing girls had disappeared near Juhu Beach. It was a chilling realization, and without wasting a moment, we decided to head there as a team.
The beach, usually filled with laughter, crashing waves, and the scent of street food, suddenly looked different under the weight of our mission. It no longer felt like a place for joy — it felt like a hunting ground where someone had been silently preying on the innocent.
To observe without raising suspicion, we dressed in plain clothes. We stationed ourselves at various points across the beach, keeping a close watch on the crowd and each other.
Anamika, always calm under pressure, took the central position. She was dressed casually, blending in perfectly with the beachgoers, playing the role of a lone visitor. She stood near a coconut water stand, pretending to scroll through her phone, but her eyes were alert, scanning everything around her.
Minutes passed, and then…
A man on a bike rode up from the far end of the beach. Something about his movements was too confident, too rehearsed. He pulled up beside Anamika and started misbehaving — brushing against her, saying inappropriate things in a low, threatening voice.
Before I could even think, a sharp wave of rage shot through me. I didn't wait for backup. I grabbed my helmet, kicked my bike to life, and sped toward them.
The man had already started to flee, sensing trouble. But I was right behind him.
The wind rushed past my face as my bike roared across the narrow beach path. My eyes were locked on him — I didn't care how fast he was going or how many turns he took. I had seen his face. I had heard Anamika's voice shake. That was enough.
But this wasn't going to be easy.
He wasn't just a creep looking to harass someone. The way he rode, the precision of his escape — it was clear. This man had done this before. He knew how to disappear.
And I knew I had to stop him before he vanished again — like all the other shadows in this case.
To be continue....