The morning after the message, Pawan woke up feeling like a weight had settled on his chest. The burner phone sat on his desk, screen dark, but its presence gnawed at him. He had barely slept. Each time he closed his eyes, the words flashed back at him:
Why are you looking into Kairav and SynerTech? Someone who has proof of SynerTech's real plan.
The last part should have thrilled him. Proof. That was what they were chasing. But instead, it left him restless. Proof rarely came gift-wrapped. If someone really had it, why reach out through such a cryptic message? Why him?
He pocketed the phone before anyone else stirred.
By the time he joined the others for breakfast in their rented flat, the air was thick with the smell of chai and toast. Mansi was hunched over her laptop, typing with one hand while dunking bread into her cup. Sumit sat cross-legged on the sofa, scrolling through call logs on a tablet. Suchitra was at the window, scribbling notes into her diary as she watched the street below. Anchal Rathod, as always, anchored the room, calm, alert, her sharp gaze flicking between her team.
"You're late," Sumit said without looking up. "That's a first."
"Didn't sleep well," Pawan muttered, grabbing the spare cup of chai.
"Nightmares or nerves?" Mansi teased, smirking.
He forced a faint smile but didn't answer. His silence stretched longer than usual.
Anchal noticed. "You sure you're alright?"
"Yeah," he said quickly, sipping the hot tea. The burn at the back of his throat helped him hold the lie together.
The day's work pulled them into routine. They had been mapping out Kairav's network, associates, business fronts, anything that could point to who was backing him. Mansi had traced a series of transfers between shell companies; the trail zigzagged across offshore accounts before landing back in Delhi, attached to a name none of them recognized.
"Here." She turned the screen toward the group. "This 'Ravians Infrastructure' is just a shell. No real office, no staff. But look where the money goes, campaign funds, contracts, all under the table."
Suchitra leaned in, frowning. "So, politicians are on SynerTech's payroll."
"Looks that way," Mansi replied. "The amounts aren't huge, but enough to buy loyalty. Quiet loyalty."
Anchal folded her arms, her voice thoughtful. "That means Kairav isn't working alone. Someone with political cover is smoothing the path for SynerTech. Which means the gas leak wasn't just an accident, it was cover for something bigger."
Her words should have set Pawan's mind alight, but he barely registered them. His thoughts kept circling back to the message. Someone out there knew they were digging into Kairav and SynerTech. Someone who might be watching them right now.
He forced himself to focus. "So, what's the next step? Follow the money further?"
"Obviously," Sumit said, tapping his pen against the table. "This trail leads higher. The question is how high."
But even as they debated, Pawan's answers were clipped, distracted. Sumit finally gave him a look. "You've been quiet all morning. What's eating you?"
Pawan shook his head. "Nothing. Just… tired."
"Too tired to argue? Now I know something's wrong," Sumit muttered, half-joking.
Suchitra glanced at him too, her gaze sharper, less forgiving. But she didn't press, only turned back to her notes.
By evening, their surveillance rotation resumed. They had cars to track, calls to log, license plates to photograph. The work was tedious, and usually Pawan threw himself into it with steady focus. Tonight, though, his eyes kept flicking to the burner phone in his pocket.
It hadn't buzzed again since the night before. But the silence made it worse. Was it waiting for him to respond?
He leaned against the car they were using, watching a black SUV idle outside a contractor's office. His thoughts spun. They already had one lead, the shell companies and politicians. It was solid, something to build on. So why couldn't he stop thinking about the other path?
Because it was faster, whispered a voice in his head. Proof, handed directly to you. But maybe also a trap.
His jaw tightened. He hated keeping things from the others, especially Anchal. Their team worked because of trust. But right now, he wasn't sure if revealing the message would give them an advantage… or paint a target on their backs.
Sumit came around the car, handing him the camera. "Your turn to watch."
Pawan took it, nodding. His hands felt heavier than they should.
As the SUV pulled away, he aimed the lens, focusing on the license plate. The shutter clicked. Routine, safe, methodical.
And yet, the words still haunted him:
Someone who has proof of SynerTech's real plan.
He lowered the camera; his reflection caught faintly in the lens. For the first time in a long while, Pawan felt something he hated to admit, fear.
By the time the team wrapped surveillance that night, the burner phone in Pawan's pocket felt like it was buzzing even when it wasn't. The phantom weight of unread words kept him tense through the drive back to their safe flat in Karol Bagh.
Anchal parked the car and killed the engine. "Tomorrow, we split into pairs again. Sumit and I will chase the shell companies. Mansi, Suchitra, you'll check out the contractor offices." She paused, looking at Pawan. "You okay to run comms from the flat? You look wiped."
Pawan swallowed, guilt tightening his throat. "No. I need to tell you something."
The others froze at his tone. He rarely interrupted orders. Anchal turned fully in her seat, eyes narrowing. "Go on."
Inside the flat, with the blinds drawn and the cheap ceiling fan rattling above them, he finally pulled the burner from his pocket. Its screen glowed pale in the dark room.
"This came in last night." He scrolled and showed the text. Why are you looking into Kairav and SynerTech? Someone who has proof of SynerTech's real plan.
The words seemed to thicken the air.
"You didn't tell us?" Sumit's voice rose sharper than usual. "You sat on this for a whole day?"
"I wasn't sure," Pawan replied, defensive. "It could be bait. You know how risky this is."
"That's not your call alone," Mansi snapped. She pushed her laptop aside and stood, crossing her arms. "If someone already has your number, then our cover isn't worth a damn. You should've said something immediately."
"Enough." Anchal's tone cut through the argument. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her gaze steady on Pawan. "Why did you hide it?"
Pawan hesitated. "Because I don't trust it yet. And I didn't want us chasing ghosts while we had a real trail."
Her expression softened only slightly. "You still should have told us."
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