Scene 1 — Morning Briefing at Islamabad CID
The glass doors of the CID block slid open to the morning light. Inside, the large operations room hummed with low conversation, printouts, and screens showing evidence photographs. Haroon stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, a ring binder of interviews and phone logs spread in front of him. DSP Farooq sat to his right, Major Tariq's earlier report from the Chaman seizure open on a laptop nearby — a chilling inventory of explosives and weapons that had arrived under military custody the previous night.
Haroon looked up as officers filtered in. He had that steady, in-control look he wore when the weight of a case sat squarely on him.
Haroon: "Status?"
Officer Hamid: "Container evidence arrived from GHQ at 02:00. Forensic team has begun cataloguing — RDX, C4 blocks, bomb jackets, laser-guided rifles, multiple magazines. Twelve girls recovered — preliminary IDs pending final processing. Qamar, Asif, Bilal and Najma are in custody; we brought them in yesterday evening. We have basic statements but they're still lying. Phone records from the men show multiple burner SIMs. Bank traces pending."
Haroon's jaw tightened. He flipped a page: a line-up of photos — faces, receipts, call logs.
Haroon: "Good. We'll use the container evidence to break the story wide open. I'm leading the interrogation. Farooq, I want full cooperation from GHQ forensic and Lahore CID. No leaks. Not a single image or name until we have court-level admissible chain-of-custody. Understood?"
Farooq: "Understood. Major Tariq will coordinate forensics transfer, and Lahore will isolate any press contact. Haroon — you want backup in interview rooms?"
Haroon nodded.
Haroon: "Have Jibran on standby and assign a female officer for Najma's interrogation. We need to press, but no mistakes. If they start talking Zafar Ibrahim, we need hard corroboration immediately."
They split up to their tasks: evidence documentation, witness protection, and media control. The rhythm of a large operation had resumed — tight, methodical, almost clinical.
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Scene 2 — Outside: Media Knocks, Offers, Pressure
Across the street from the CID building, media vans clustered like impatient birds. Channels had been running continuous coverage for days, and now producers clambered for any new bite.
A junior producer from a major channel, voice slick with opportunity, had phoned Sara twice before the sun had fully risen.
Producer (recording tone): "Miss Sara, the nation stands with you. We can air a full exclusive interview — control the narrative, inspire survivors, and we'll compensate you handsomely. Five million is on the table."
Sara had listened with a careful, cold patience from her home. Noman stood beside her, silent but watchful.
Sara (quiet, resolute): "No. We will not accept money for this story. This is evidence for court, not commentary for ratings. Tell your channel to contact our lawyer if they want a statement after the trial."
She hung up. The producer, stunned, tried to sweeten the offer with threats of exposure and excuses about "helping the family." Sara's refusal was simple and final. She did not want her pain commodified; she wanted the men in custody to face legal consequences.
After the call she turned to Noman.
Sara (softly): "They want my face and my words for money. I can't let that happen."
Noman: "Good. We'll not speak to any outlet until Haroon or our counsel allows. This is tactical; the police must lead it."
Sara nodded. The newsroom lines kept ringing, but there would be no interview. Not now.
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Scene 3 — Interrogation Room A: Haroon Faces Qamar
The first interrogation was scheduled for late morning. Haroon walked through the secure corridor, badge already displayed, and stepped into Room A where Qamar sat cuffed, flanked by two constables. The one-way glass reflected Haroon's silhouette before he found the man's eyes.
Qamar tried his usual composure; his arrogance had been a shield for years. Now it looked thin.
Haroon (calm, direct): "Qamar, I'll start with what the forensic team found in the container: high-grade explosives, military-style weaponry, bomb jackets. These weren't for petty criminals. These are organized assets. How deep are you in?"
Qamar's eyes flicked to the photographs pinned on the table—explosives, shipping manifests, the hollow partition built into the container. He inhaled, then played small.
Qamar: "You have no proof. I'm a runner. I move goods. I get paid."
Haroon: "A runner who coordinated shipments, kept ledgers, and signed delivery logs? Bilal gave us one of your ledgers. Asif's transfers match your phone timestamps. They show payments routed through hawala channels to Dubai. We have CCTV at the travel agent's office — Najma leaving with a passport case the night a group left Lahore. You're not naïve."
Haroon slid a printout across the table: a call log, burner SIM numbers highlighted by forensic analysts.
Haroon: "This link is to Zafar Ibrahim's known contacts. Tell me — who is Zafar to you? Who in Dubai handles the routing? Names. Banks. Hawala operators."
Qamar's jaw clenched. He swallowed. The record of the container's contents sat like a weight in the room; Qamar's breathing grew shallow.
Qamar (quiet): "Zafar… he gives orders. He's the owner. We… we only do what he says."
Haroon didn't celebrate the crack; he stayed precise.
Haroon: "Names, then. We'll verify. Start with your local handler."
Qamar lapsed into silence, then, under a pattern of questions and evidence, he began to give fragments — a driver's name, a code word, a hawala contact in Karachi. Each fragment Beran traced to a new contact. Haroon recorded everything. The net was tightening.
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Scene 4 — Interrogation Room B: Najma Faces Female Inspectors
Najma's interrogation was deliberately handled by female officers. She sat with a practiced, cold expression; the hospital-style kindness of Shabnam was a memory that didn't soften Najma's defiance.
Inspector Habiba (firm): "Najma, you arranged girls. You recruited them from colleges, open markets, and social posts. We found evidence in your accounts. Why sell girls? Who paid you? Why Heera Mandi?"
Najma laughed once, brittle and high.
Najma: "I worked for money. Zafar paid dollars. I shipped girls; some were willing, others weren't. Business is business."
Inspector Habiba: "Business? Girls as cargo? You told women they'd get jobs abroad. You sold them to men in rooms. They were raped. You took dollars. Who handled the bank transfers? Which courier moved passports? Who else worked for Zafar?"
Najma's eyes darted. When Habiba slid a bank statement and a photograph of a courier van into view — images seized in the Chaman seizure — the woman's face twitched.
Najma (low): "I used fronts. I don't know names. Only Arabian numbers, Dubai numbers…"
The female officers shifted tone: methodical, relentless. They presented wire transfer traces — small amounts in USD through layering to local "business" accounts, then cashouts. They played recorded calls where Najma had used coded phrases. The map of money was hard to ignore.
Najma's stance wavered. Under pressure, she began naming intermediaries — obscure travel agents, a Dhaka-based courier, a salon owner in Old Lahore who supplied "new faces." Each name led to a new lead.
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Scene 5 — Evening: Asif and Bilal Break
As the day moved into evening, Haroon rotated the interviews. He placed Asif and Bilal in adjacent rooms, facing separate teams. The technique was classic: don't let accomplices align their stories.
Haroon (to Bilal): "You transported people. Those are lives, not packages. When someone asked you to sign, did anyone tell you who the final receiver was?"
Bilal, who earlier had been defiant, now had the weary look of someone whose conscience was unmoored. Pictures of the twelve rescued girls were shown; Bilal's eyes filled with shame.
Bilal (voice breaking): "They told me not to ask. They said if I asked, my sister would be taken. I… I did what I did because I was scared."
Haroon's voice remained steady.
Haroon: "Tell me where they was moved from and to. Name the dispatch points. Who coordinated next legs?"
Bilal started to speak — names tumbled out: a storage compound in Sialkot, a driver named Rehan who used a Karachi route, and a contact in Quetta who took custody for cross-border movements. Bilal's confession created threads directly tied to the container seizure: dates, times, and the same keystamp pattern found in the container's manifest.
Asif held out longer; he tried to posture and blame others, but forensic bank traces and a ledger found in his home matched postage receipts and hawala slips.
Asif (defeated): "We were paid in cash and sometimes in dollars. Zafar's people told us the girls were for marriages abroad. I knew. I knew later. I'm sorry."
Haroon noted every detail and ensured witnesses and their claims would be verified via forensic corroboration. This was crucial — courts demand evidentiary connecting links, not only confessions under pressure.
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Scene 6 — Coordination: Haroon, Farooq, and Major Tariq
At 22:30, Haroon, Farooq and Major Tariq met behind closed doors to stitch the confessions into a legally defensible case. Haroon presented recorded excerpts, bank traces, and the newly admitted names.
Haroon: "Bilal and Asif have given us dispatch nodes and hawala routes. Najma is naming handlers and account fronts. Qamar finally admitted partial cooperation and linked Zafar's code names to Dubai accounts. The container's inventory matches dates and parcel numbers the men confirmed."
Major Tariq: "We'll forward the technical intercepts and satellite pings. If Zafar's network uses the same IPs or money channels, we can tie Dubai nodes to operations. But legal counsel must ensure the chain-of-custody for the container and bank records is unassailable."
Farooq: "Do it. And one more — media containment. No interviews. We protect Sara and the survivors from press interference. I will issue a statement: 'No official comment till court proceedings.'"
Haroon stared at the folder of statements, the weight of responsibility in his chest.
Haroon: "We will move now for further remand and present this material to the court. And I want protective status for Sara and the recovered girls. Witness protection protocols — relocation if needed."
They all agreed. The operation had progressed from rescue to prosecution, but the hardest part — building a watertight case against a transnational financier — had just begun.
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Scene 7 — Nightfall: Media Still Hunts
Reporters camped outside the CID gate, snapping photos as suspects were moved for another night of questioning. Channels flashed live banners: "BREAKING: New Confessions in Terror-Trafficking Case" and anchors attempted to coax official soundbites.
A broadcast producer called Haroon's number; the assistant refused. Another anchor called Sara's mobile; Noman's polite but firm reply kept the line closed.
Inside, Haroon finished logging the day's evidence, eyes tired but uncompromising.
He paused, looking at a photograph of Sara taken on the hospital return day. Then he pulled his jacket on and walked out to the press perimeter.
Haroon (to the assembled media, clear and controlled): "This is a sensitive criminal investigation. We will not comment on operational details which could compromise witnesses or ongoing efforts. No interviews with victims will be arranged until court proceedings permit and witness protection assessments are complete. Any channel seeking publicity will be turned away."
Cameras buzzed, but the message was delivered. This was not a story for ratings. It was a case to be built and proven.
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Scene 8 — Closing Notes: The Night Before Remand
That night at the CID, records got updated, phone call mappings were cross-checked and printed. Arrest warrants and remand papers were prepared for presentation in court. Haroon wrote a brief to DSP Farooq summarizing the new leads and requested international legal assistance channels to trace Zafar's suspected accounts.
Before he left his desk, Haroon closed his eyes for a moment and whispered, half to himself, half to the absent victims:
Haroon: "We'll not stop until they are all accountable."
Outside, the city lights glowed. Inside the files, a network of names and numbers had begun to look less like a myth. The next steps would be legal — careful, patient and exacting.
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End of Chapter