Episode 2
Hearing the door click open, Inspector Junaid lifted his head. Ikram was stepping into the office.
"Ikram! What brings you here?"
"Sir, an elderly man wishes to meet you."
"Send him in," Junaid replied with a warm smile, picking up a case file from his desk to review.
A moment later, an old man entered the room. His hair was peppered with black and white, thick-lensed glasses rested over his eyes, and a sturdy walking stick was firmly gripped in his right hand. Casting a quick glance at Inspector Junaid, he promptly pulled a chair out and sat down. Junaid looked at the old man in mild amusement, then glanced toward Ikram standing at the doorway.
"Sir, this gentleman says he has something important to tell you."
"Very well. You may go, Ikram. I will attend to him," Inspector Junaid dismissed his sub-inspector. Ikram nodded and walked out.
Turning his full attention back to the stranger, Junaid was about to speak when the old man broke the silence:
"You are Inspector Junaid, correct?"
"Yes, that is me," Junaid replied pleasantly.
"I have come here to confess something."
"Is that so?"
"Yes! Will you listen to what I have to say?"
"Of course. What is on your mind?" Junaid gave him his undivided attention.
Leaning slightly forward across the desk, the old man whispered, "Listen closely: I am an oppressor. A cruel man."
Junaid smiled gently. "What do you mean? I don’t quite follow. Would you care to explain?"
"Look at you... smiling at what I just said," the old man remarked in utter surprise.
"And what did you expect me to do?"
"Exactly what my own people do to me: despise me. They hate me with a passion, and you should hate me too," he said softly.
"Why should I hate you? Hatred is fundamentally a terrible thing anyway," Junaid chuckled.
"That is precisely what I tell them!" The old man's expression turned dead serious. "Hatred is poison. It is evil, profoundly evil, and wicked deeds earn the wrath of God."
"You speak the truth," Junaid agreed with a warm nod. "Evil displeases the Almighty, and we should never invite His anger."
"Spot on! You truly are a good man, Inspector Junaid! It brings me immense joy to meet you." A broad grin suddenly crept across the old man’s face. Watching that sudden, unnerving smile, Junaid felt a strange unease stir inside him. Shifting slightly in his chair, he asked:
"Did you come all this way merely to tell me how cruel you are, or is there another reason?"
Upon hearing this, the old man fell dead silent. He rose to his feet slowly.
"You must accompany me to a place."
"Excuse me?" Junaid stood up as well.
"It means exactly what it sounds like. I am here to take you with me. Look into my eyes... You are coming with me, aren't you?" The old man locked his gaze directly into Junaid’s.
A sharp jolt ran through the inspector.
"You are coming with me, Inspector Junaid..." the man chanted softly, refusing to break eye contact.
Junaid’s senses snapped alert. He recognized that distinct, hypnotic gaze—a rare, dangerous trait possessed by very few in the world. He tried to avert his eyes, but the old man held him in an unyielding stare. Finally, Junaid spoke in a subdued tone:
"Yes... I am coming with you. Where are we headed?"
"Wherever I take you. You will ask no questions, and you will do and say exactly as I command. Understood?"
"Understood," Junaid complied.
"Now call Sub-Inspector Ikram and tell him that you are leaving with me."
Inspector Junaid did precisely that. Ikram stared at his superior in disbelief; Junaid never left the station with civilians close to closing hours—it went against his ironclad principles. Yet, Ikram brushed his doubts aside, assuming the old man was caught in some severe predicament and genuinely needed urgent help.
Once in the jeep, the old man took the front passenger seat. The engine revved to life, and the vehicle shot forward into the flow of traffic.
"We are heading toward the town of Ghazeeabad. Do you know where that is?"
"Yes... It lies just outside the city limits. A picturesque town," Junaid answered quietly.
"Hmm, accurate enough. Do you have a mobile phone in your pocket?"
"Yes, I do." Junaid appeared completely under his thrall.
"Hand it over. You have no need for it now," the old man chuckled.
Junaid pulled out his phone and handed it over. Tucking the device into his coat, the old man burst into a manic, lunatic laugh. The jeep sped down the highway as the old man cackled hysterically, Junaid observing him with an unreadable expression. As the vehicle crossed the city border, the old man barked:
"Pull over by the side of the road, Inspector!"
Junaid steered the jeep under the shade of a large roadside tree and brought it to a halt, turning toward the old man as if awaiting his next order. The man gestured for him to get out. Junaid complied at once, standing tall before him.
"People boast that you are sharp, that you are fearless... yet look how effortlessly I took control of you!" He laughed mockingly again.
At that exact moment, the inspector's phone rang loudly from the old man's pocket. Pulling it out, the screen flashed with the caller ID: Farhana.
"Oh... your daughter Farhana is calling."
The phone continued to ring incessantly, but the old man ignored it until the screen went dark.
"Inspector Junaid! If I wanted to, I could finish you off right here in a heartbeat. But I won't. I'm going to play a game with you that you'll remember for the rest of your life. Get back in the jeep."
The journey resumed. Eventually, the vehicle pulled up outside an isolated villa in Ghazeeabad. The old man let out a loud shout, prompting a massive metal gate to swing open, and Junaid drove the jeep into the compound.
They entered a spacious hall. At its dead center sat two burly men lounging casually around a large table, their legs stretched out. Smirking at the sight of Inspector Junaid, the man with a broad nose and a soot-dark complexion glared toward the elderly visitor:
"Johny! Did this cop give you any trouble?"
"If he did, just say the word and we'll break every bone in his body! Who does he think he is? Some hotshot inspector?" barked the dark-faced man's companion, who carried a prominent scar across his right cheek.
Inspector Junaid stood quietly near the entrance beside Johny, casually sizing up the room.
"Uncle Kami... Acha Mama... You two don't fully understand Johny, but Johny knows everyone all too well," the old man puffed out his chest with pride. "I plucked Inspector Junaid like a mouse out of a trap. Pulled him straight out from under his entire precinct's nose as smoothly as a hair from butter! Toyed with him all the way here. Remember this: even the toughest men kneel before me."
"Impressive," Uncle Kami laughed. "Now shed this frail old persona and get back to your real self."
"Johny, I may not know all your combat tricks, but your disguise skills are magnificent. No one could spot you," Acha Mama praised.
"Much obliged! If you insist, I'll go take off the makeup... though it took quite an effort to put on," Johny chuckled.
"Go on, make it quick. Once you're back, we'll teach this inspector a lesson together. It'll take all three of us to give him a proper thrashing," Uncle Kami said, rubbing his chin.
"Consider it done. I'll be back in a flash," Johny said, slipping out through a side door.
The moment he vanished, Inspector Junaid’s lips curled into an amused smile.
"Uncle Kami... how long will it take Johny to scrub off his makeup?"
"Excuse me?" Kami blinked, taken aback.
"I asked: how long until he returns?"
The two goons exchanged puzzled looks before Uncle Kami spoke up: "It'll take him a few minutes. But why are you asking?"
"Don't tell me you're thinking of making a run for it," Acha Mama snickered. "If that thought even crossed your mind, you'd better drop it immediately."
"And why should I drop it?" Junaid countered coolly.
"Because you'll end up kissing the dirt," Uncle Kami warned quickly.
"That's fine. I've tasted the dirt plenty of times before; once more won't hurt."
"So you really do plan on running?"
"No... fleeing isn't on my agenda. I have a completely different plan," Junaid smirked.
"A different plan?" Uncle Kami echoed.
"Yes. A thorough thrashing for the two of you. So square up... because I hit hard."
The two thugs stared at each other in sheer disbelief before roaring with laughter.
"Inspector Junaid! That's quite a sweet daydream you've got there, but..." Acha Mama shot him a menacing glare.
"But what... Mama?" Junaid chuckled.
"My name is not Mama; it's Acha Mama! Don't you forget it," he snarled viciously.
"Understood. I will remember. Now tell me, what comes after that 'but'?"
"You can write this down: your dream of thrashing us will never see the light of day."
"I don't need to write anything down, because the Almighty always grants my good wishes. My dream of handing you a beating will be fulfilled before Johny even steps back into this room. Get ready... I am about to strike. Defend yourselves if you can!" Junaid announced cheerfully.
Both men leapt to their feet, fists raised.
"Come at us then! We're ready!" Uncle Kami growled.
"Here it comes!" Junaid shouted—and instantly spun on his heel, darting out through the open door at top speed.
"Hey! He's bolting! Catch him!" Uncle Kami's furious shout echoed behind him.
Junaid didn't slow down. He dashed down the long corridor, heading straight for the villa's main exit. As he cleared the hallway and broke into a wider passage, Johny suddenly materialized right in front of him. A look of utter bewilderment flashed across Johny's face, but Junaid executed a swift sidestep and slipped past him without breaking stride.
Bursting out into the open courtyard, Junaid spotted his jeep parked near the wall. He bolted toward it, only to be forced to an abrupt halt—Johny had somehow cut him off again.
"Inspector Junaid... you're not walking out of here alive. Drop this pointless running around."
"Why should I? This running around is proving quite useful, old Johny," Junaid said, attempting to dodge past him again, but Johny mirrored his move and blocked the way.
"Tell me one thing," Johny demanded. "I completely subdued you with my hypnotic gaze... How on earth did you break free? That has never happened to me before."
"You subdued me? That was your assumption, not mine," Junaid scoffed. "Did you take me for a fool? I knew from the start you weren't an old man, and the power behind your eyes didn't escape my notice either. Johny, you clearly underestimated me. Had you known who I was, you would never have brazenly walked into my precinct. I only played along to uncover your hideout."
As Junaid finished speaking, Uncle Kami and Acha Mama caught up, wheezing as they reached the courtyard.
"This... this guy is ridiculously fast!" Acha Mama panted.
"How did he slip past you two? Where were you?" Johny snapped, scowling at them.
"We didn't go anywhere!" Uncle Kami defended himself. "He was talking big about beating us up, and the next second he dashed straight out the door!"
"Unbelievable... I genuinely thought I had Inspector Junaid wrapped around my finger, reduced to my obedient puppet... but..." Johny trailed off.
"But what?" Acha Mama pressed.
"He was never under my control to begin with. No matter! Now that he's stepped into our territory, he isn't walking out alive. That's my promise to both of you," Johny declared, puffing out his chest.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Johny... you'll only end up humiliated," Junaid warned with a faint smile.
"We'll see who gets humiliated," Johny said, dropping into a low combat stance. The earlier careless facade vanished, and both Uncle Kami and Acha Mama tensed up beside him.
Junaid smiled calmly. "Even if all three of you attack together, you won't stop me from walking out of here. That is a certainty."
"Uncle Kami, Acha Mama—jump him! Beat him to a pulp!" Johny ordered.
"The two of us?" Uncle Kami grimaced. "Why don't you do the honors? Word is, you're the master fighter here."
Johny glared at him. "Acha Mama, what do you say?"
"I agree with Kami. You take the lead and give him a beating; we'll watch," he smirked.
"Fine! You'll pay for this attitude later, mark my words!" Johny hissed in frustration.
"We're ready whenever you are!" the two thugs yelled in unison—and in that split second, they both lunged at Inspector Junaid together, driving him hard to the ground.
Junaid scrambled to his feet with remarkable agility, only to be tackled down once again as Johny threw his entire weight onto him.
"Inspector Junaid! What happened? We've heard countless tales of your valor, yet here you are, eating the dust over and over..."
Junaid sprang back up to his feet instantly. Standing at the far end of the corridor was a tall, imposing figure who had just spoken.
"Who are you?"
Junaid had assumed there were only three men in the hideout, but this tall man's presence proved his assumption wrong.
"I live in this house," the tall man chuckled.
"So this is your place?"
"You could put it that way."
"Meaning... it isn't yours; it's rented."
"Interpret it however you like," the man shrugged indifferently.
"Who are you people, and why did you bring me here?"
"We are not good people," the man sneered.
"I gathered that much. Now tell me, why did you bring me here?"
"Go ahead, boys... tell him."
The moment the tall man stopped speaking, a heavy, blunt object struck Inspector Junaid violently across the back of the head, and everything went black as he collapsed heavily onto the floor. ( Continue )
