Scene 1: Interrogation Room – The Breakthrough
The gray-walled interrogation room at F-7 Islamabad Police Station was filled with a heavy silence. A single fan rotated lazily overhead, squeaking with every turn. Inspector Haseeb Malik stood in front of the metal table, his sleeves rolled up, a file tucked under his arm, eyes sharp with intent.
Across from him sat Yashwant Teja and Juginder Singh, both in handcuffs. The harsh fluorescent light flickered, highlighting the fatigue on their faces — men who had seen too much and said too little.
Haseeb dropped a stack of photos on the table — snapshots from CCTV stills, maps, and lists of bank transactions.
"Yashwant," Haseeb began coldly, "you already know the walls are closing in. We've confirmed your money trail and your digital communication logs. You can either cooperate or spend the rest of your life in a cell without sunlight."
Juginder leaned back, smirking. "We told you everything. The bank accounts, the transfers. What more do you want?"
Haseeb leaned closer, his tone sharper. "You told me what I already knew. I want what you hid. The location of your safe house. Where's the rest of your equipment? Your documents? Your orders?"
Yashwant shifted uneasily. His silence was louder than words.
"Speak," Haseeb demanded. "You think we don't know you had a fallback plan?"
Juginder swallowed hard. "Margalla… Hills. Near the old quarry. There's a house — white walls, green gate. That's all I know."
Haseeb straightened, exchanged a quick glance with his assistant officer, and signaled the recorder to stop. "That's enough. Team Alpha, gear up. We move now."
He turned back once before leaving. "If you're lying, I'll make sure you regret it."
---
Scene 2: The Raid – Margalla Hills
The convoy of three police jeeps sped up the winding road toward Margalla Hills. The early afternoon sun beat down on the dusty track, and the wind carried the scent of pine and dry earth.
Haseeb sat in the front seat, helmet on, radio in hand. "All units, positions. No civilian interference. Maintain silent entry until signal."
The vehicles stopped near a bend overlooking the green slope. In the distance, a small house sat tucked between trees, its faded paint blending with the surroundings.
"Looks abandoned," murmured Sergeant Adeel.
"Abandoned houses don't have fresh tire marks," Haseeb replied, pointing to the ground. "Two vehicles. Recent. Less than 24 hours."
They split into two groups. The first crept from the west side through the bushes; the second moved along the stone path toward the main entrance.
Haseeb raised his hand. "Three… two… one — GO!"
With a thunderous crash, the door burst open. Officers swarmed inside, guns drawn.
The interior smelled of sweat, gun oil, and burnt paper. A half-burned laptop lay on a table beside a radio set. Maps of northern Pakistan were scattered across the floor, marked with coded notations.
"Sir!" Adeel called out from the back room. "You should see this!"
Haseeb rushed in. On a metal shelf, wrapped in plastic, were three Indian Army service cards — one labeled Captain Vijay Shankar, the others Major Juginder Singh and Lieutenant Yashwant Teja. Alongside them were RAW identification tags, encrypted communication devices, and an official letterhead with faint embossed seals.
Haseeb froze for a moment. The realization hit hard. "Indian Army officers. Operating under RAW cover."
He looked around at his men. "Bag everything. Every scrap. Even the ash from the fireplace — it could be evidence. And for God's sake, handle those cards with gloves."
As they secured the items, Haseeb stepped outside and looked at the horizon — the green hills swaying under the golden sun, hiding beneath them the dark shadow of espionage.
He exhaled slowly. "Now we know who we're really dealing with."
---
Scene 3: Return to the Station
By evening, the team was back at the police station. The evidence room buzzed with activity — photos being taken, sealed bags labeled, digital devices catalogued.
Haseeb stood by the desk, writing his report. "Three subjects confirmed Indian nationals. All evidence points toward RAW infiltration and planned financial destabilization operations through targeted robberies."
His deputy, Inspector Aslam, frowned. "Sir, this is no longer a regular police matter."
Haseeb nodded grimly. "I know. I'll report to DSP Haroon personally."
He grabbed the evidence folder and walked out.
---
Scene 4: Hospital – Haroon's Recovery
The hospital ward smelled faintly of disinfectant and jasmine air freshener. Haroon was now sitting upright, his face showing strength though his arm was still bandaged. Maryam sat beside him, flipping through a newspaper.
When the door opened, Haseeb entered, looking tired but charged with urgency.
"Assalamualaikum, sir," he greeted.
"Walaikum Assalam, Haseeb," Haroon replied, motioning him closer. "You look like you've been through a storm."
Haseeb handed him the file. "You need to see this. We raided their hideout near Margalla Hills today."
Haroon's brows furrowed as he flipped through the documents. His eyes landed on the Indian Army service cards. He looked up slowly. "These are… active-duty officers?"
"Yes, sir," Haseeb said. "We found their original IDs, communication equipment, and some documents in Hindi — coded letters, possibly operational directives. Everything points to RAW involvement."
Haroon's expression hardened. The weight of years in the force showed on his face. "This… this changes everything."
He placed the file gently on the side table and looked out the window for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
Then, turning back to Haseeb, he said firmly, "This case is now out of our jurisdiction. This isn't just a cross-border crime — it's espionage. It falls under military intelligence authority."
Haseeb nodded. "I thought the same, sir. I wanted your direction before forwarding it."
Haroon thought for a long moment. "Colonel Zubair Shah — ISI Islamabad division. I know him personally. We've worked together on the Naran Line case years ago. I'll contact him directly."
He reached for the hospital phone and dialed a secure number from memory. "This is DSP Haroon speaking. I need to speak to Colonel Zubair Shah. It's urgent — RAW infiltration case confirmed."
The nurse entering with medicine paused, startled by the tone. Maryam quietly stepped aside, understanding the gravity of what was happening.
After a few minutes, Haroon hung up. "He'll call me back within the hour."
He turned to Haseeb again. "Until then, keep both suspects under heavy surveillance. No visitors, no external communication. And the evidence — keep it sealed under armed guard. Do not transfer it to central record yet."
"Yes, sir," Haseeb confirmed. "I'll personally oversee the security."
Haroon's eyes softened slightly. "Good man. You've done well, Haseeb. This may be the biggest lead of your career — and possibly your most dangerous."
Haseeb smiled faintly. "I learned from the best, sir."
---
Scene 5: The Family's Warmth
After Haseeb left, the room returned to its familiar calm. Maryam returned to her seat beside Haroon, her eyes still watching him with concern.
"What did he say?" she asked gently.
Haroon sighed. "It's classified now, Maryam. But… let's just say it's bigger than I thought. Much bigger."
She reached for his hand. "Whatever it is, Allah will protect you — like He always has."
Haroon smiled, pressing her hand lightly. "And you — you're my strength. Without you, I'd have never made it this far."
The door opened softly. Imran and Rimsha entered, followed by Ubaid and little Irfan, each holding a small box of chocolates.
"Papa!" Irfan cried happily, running to his bedside. "We brought your favorite!"
Haroon's eyes lit up. "Chocolate? That's my real medicine!"
Ubaid climbed onto the stool beside the bed. "Mama said you're going to come home soon!"
"Insha'Allah, very soon," Haroon replied, ruffling his son's hair.
Imran smiled from behind. "Looks like the patient's morale is fully restored."
Rimsha laughed. "At this rate, he'll be back at work tomorrow."
Maryam shook her head playfully. "Not if I can help it."
The laughter filled the room again — the sound of life returning after days of fear.
For a while, they spoke about everything but the case — about school, about food, about Rimsha's new sales plan for Amana Superstore. The heaviness of espionage and raids faded away, replaced by simple human warmth.
As Haroon watched his family laugh, a rare peace washed over him. The world outside was filled with secrets and shadows — but here, in this small room, there was light.
---
Scene 6: The Call
Just as the family was preparing to leave, Haroon's phone buzzed on the side table. He picked it up — Colonel Zubair Shah.
He pressed it to his ear. "Yes, Colonel. Haroon here."
The voice on the other end was deep, commanding. "Haroon, I've gone through your message. You did the right thing. My team will take over within 48 hours. Keep your man Haseeb close — he'll coordinate the handover."
"Understood, sir," Haroon replied. "I'll brief him tomorrow morning."
Zubair's voice softened slightly. "And Haroon — good to know you're still standing strong. Pakistan still needs officers like you."
Haroon smiled faintly. "Always ready, sir."
He ended the call and looked at Maryam. "It's handled. Finally."
Maryam exhaled in relief. "Alhamdulillah."
Rimsha asked softly, "Everything okay?"
Haroon nodded. "Everything's under control now. We did our part — now it's in the right hands."
He leaned back, eyes closing for a moment. "And maybe, after a long time… I can finally rest."
---
End of Chapter