CANVAS OF COURAGE [Ongoing]

?32?

***

INT. POLICE CRIME BRANCH HQ

Rain lashes the windows. Inside, the war room pulses with tension—screens flicker with satellite feeds, a city map lit with red markers, photographs of burnt cars and known associates pinned with threads.

Commissioner Harshvardhan stands at the head of the table, eyes fixed on a blown-up image of Dockyard 17.

HARSHVARDHAN:
“We’ve tracked his movement patterns. Every safehouse, every drop point. This warehouse is different. He thinks it’s off-grid. He thinks we’re blind.”

ACP ZOYA RANA points at the screen, zooming in on the dockyard layout.

ZOYA said “Minimal guards. No cameras. That’s confidence—or arrogance. Either way, we use it.”

SUB-INSPECTOR TANMAY added “Sir, if we move now, we can catch half his supply chain red-handed.”

HARSHVARDHAN:
“No, Tanmay. Not now.”

(he walks slowly around the table)

“We hit too soon, we spook him. Men like Vikram Mehra don’t run. They disappear.”

INSPECTOR BHASKAR:
“Then what do you suggest?”

HARSHVARDHAN:
“We strike when he’s not watching. When he’s certain he’s untouchable. We choke every vein feeding his empire—silently. No panic. No headlines.”

Prateek “I can have surveillance drones circling within the hour. We log every face that enters that warehouse.”

Harshvardhan declared “Do it. And re-route cyber units. I want burner traffic analyzed. No chatter escapes us.”

ZOYA:
“And the informants?”

HARSHVARDHAN:
“Test them. Feed them partial intel. If Vikram reacts, we know who’s leaking. If they vanish—we know he got to them.”

TANMAY:
(leaning forward)
“When do we strike, sir?”

HARSHVARDHAN:
“When his guard is down. When he's celebrating, not hiding. We move not when he’s ready—but when he’s certain we won’t. That’s when kings fall.”

A chilling silence follows. The storm outside intensifies.

Bhaskar smirked “And this king won’t see the blade coming.”

Harshvardhan desai said “He built an empire of blood in the dark. We’ll bring him into the light... and let it burn.”

All eyes lock on Vikram Mehra’s mugshot pinned on the board. The hunter has become the hunted.

***

SIDDARTH POV

This couch is not a couch. It’s a witness box. And I, apparently, am the criminal of the century.

I sit upright, like a man trying to blend into the furniture. Maybe if I stay very still, they’ll forget I exist.

Nope. No such luck.