Night covered the city in uneasy silence.
Inside the safe house, Preyajeet paced slowly while Akanksha decrypted fragments of internal data recovered from Rana's system.
"There were coded financial routes," she said, eyes fixed on the screen. "Rana wasn't the mastermind. He reported upward."
Preyajeet stopped.
"To one of the five."
She nodded.
"Each director controls a sector — military, cyber, finance, media, and political influence."
He exhaled slowly.
"That's not a network. That's a takeover plan."
Before she could respond, the television suddenly switched on by itself.
Static.
Then a masked figure appeared on screen.
Distorted voice.
"You removed one piece from the board."
Preyajeet reached for the remote, but it wasn't broadcasting from a channel.
It was hijacking their frequency.
"You cannot remove the hand that moves it," the voice continued.
Akanksha's fingers froze.
Phoenix Circle.
"You exposed corruption," the voice said calmly. "Now we expose you."
The screen shifted.
Surveillance footage appeared.
Preyajeet and Akanksha at the vault.
Akanksha crossing the border.
Private moments.
Their alliance.
"This evidence will reach both governments within hours," the voice said. "Let us see how long your trust survives public betrayal."
The screen went black.
Silence.
Preyajeet clenched his fists.
"They're trying to isolate us."
Akanksha's face was pale.
"If both sides believe we manipulated each other, diplomatic protection disappears."
Her secure device vibrated again.
A message appeared:
"Meet alone. 2300 hours. Old Dockyard. Come without military support."
"It's a trap," Preyajeet said immediately.
"Yes."
"Then we don't go."
She looked at him carefully.
"If we don't, they release everything."
He stepped closer.
"I don't care what they release."
"I do," she whispered.
He paused.
"If your government believes you turned me, they will erase you."
"And if yours believes I manipulated you," she continued, "you'll face court-martial."
Silence stretched between them.
This wasn't bullets.
This was reputation. Trust. Careers.
War without gunfire.
Preyajeet finally spoke.
"We go. But not the way they expect."
Old Dockyard – 11:00 PM
Fog rolled over the empty shipping containers.
Akanksha walked forward alone.
No visible weapon.
No backup in sight.
From the shadows, a tall man stepped out.
Expensive suit.
Confident posture.
Director Number Two.
"Agent Akanksha," he said smoothly. "You disappoint me."
She kept her voice steady.
"You're destroying your own nation."
He smiled faintly.
"Nations are temporary. Power is permanent."
He signaled with his hand.
Snipers activated around the dock.
"You came alone?" he asked.
She met his eyes.
"Yes."
He stepped closer.
"Then this ends now."
Suddenly—
A flare exploded above the dock, flooding the area with blinding light.
Hidden Indian intelligence units surrounded the perimeter.
Director Two's expression shifted for the first time.
Behind him—
Preyajeet stepped out from the fog.
"You talk too much," he said calmly.
Director Two realized too late.
They hadn't come alone.
He tried reaching for a concealed device—
But Akanksha disarmed him in one swift movement.
Within seconds, he was restrained.
Backup forces moved in silently.
As Director Two was taken away, he laughed softly.
"You think removing us stops the machine?"
Preyajeet stepped closer.
"How many left?"
The director's smile widened.
"You're asking the wrong question."
He leaned in slightly.
"Ask who funds us."
His words lingered in the cold air.
Later that night.
Inside a secure vehicle.
Akanksha stared ahead.
"That confidence…" she murmured. "They're protected by someone powerful."
Preyajeet nodded.
"Someone international."
Her phone buzzed again.
A new message.
Just two words:
"Check Geneva."
Both of them understood instantly.
If the funding trail led to global financial systems—
Then this war wasn't regional anymore.
It was international.
And they were standing at the center of it.