The air at Wharf 7 was thick with salt, smoke, and suspicion.
Nathan walked ahead, leading Nawaz and Balraj through the crumbling corridors of the dockside warehouse. Old sea crates, broken fishing gear, and oil barrels littered the path. The further in they went, the more the place stank of secrets.
"Bhai, yeh toh asli horror movie ka set lag raha hai."
(Bro, this looks like an actual horror movie set.)
Balraj muttered, tightening his grip on the Glock in his hand.
Nathan didn't reply. He stopped near a rusted container and gave a coded knock — five short taps, then one long.
The container's door creaked open from inside. A man in a raincoat, holding an AK-56, peeked through and nodded.
They were waved in.
Inside, a small bunker-style room was set up. Lights powered by a janky generator buzzed overhead. On the far end, under an old tarpaulin, sat an old man — hunched, gaunt, with eyes that held wars inside them.
Nawaz froze. The air left his lungs.
The man looked up, locking eyes with him. "Tere aankhon mein uskijhalak hai… tu uskabeta hai na?"
(I see hisreflection in your eyes... you're hisson, aren't you?)
"Yeh kaun hai?"
(Who is this?)
Balraj squinted.
Nathan replied, voice low.
"Woh banda jiske wajah se Nawaz ki zindagi palti thi. Officer Faheem. Tere baap ka dost."
(The man because of whom Nawaz's life turned. Officer Faheem. Your dad's friend.)
Nawaz stepped forward, fists clenched. "Mere baap ka sach kya hai?"
(What's the truth about my father?)
The old man's voice trembled as memories surfaced.
"Tera baap police mein tha, par woh sirf uniform nahi pehenta tha, uska dil bhi saf tha. Lekin usne kuch dekha… jo dekhna nahi chahiye tha."
(Your father was a cop, but not just in uniform — his heart was clean. But he saw something… something he wasn't supposed to.)
Nathan chimed in.
"He uncovered an illegal smuggling route — weapons, drugs… and politicians' involvement. He was going to expose it."
Faheem nodded slowly.
"Par ek raat, usne mujhe call kiya. Bola — 'Main chup nahi rahunga.' Agle din woh gayab ho gaya. Sirf ek jali hui car mili highway pe. Case close kar diya gaya."
(One night, he called me. Said — 'I won't stay silent.' Next day, he vanished. Only a burnt car was found on the highway. Case closed.)
Nawaz whispered,
"Toh woh mara nahi?"
(So he didn't die?)
Faheem looked away.
"Koi laash nahi mili. Koi DNA match nahi hua. Mujhe shak hai… woh zinda ho sakta hai. Par chup gaya hoga. Ya chup karwa diya gaya."
(No body was found. No DNA match. I suspect… he could be alive. Or was silenced.)
Balraj sat down slowly, stunned.
"Bhai, tu kisi movie ka hero nikla."
(Bro, you turned out to be some movie's hero.)
Nathan pulled out a USB drive and tossed it to Nawaz.
"Yeh tera baap ke last investigation ka data hai. Mujhe dus saal laga yeh recover karne mein."
(This is your dad's last investigation data. Took me ten years to recover it.)
Nawaz caught it. He stared at it like it was fire.
Then, quietly:
"Aaj se yeh personal hai. Jisne mere baap ko chupkarwaya… mainuskizubaankaatdunga."
(From today, it's personal. Whoever silenced my dad… I'llcuttheirtongueout.)
Balraj grinned.
"Ab maza aayega."
(Now it's getting fun.)
Nathan checked his watch.
"You've got less than four hours before the sun comes up. After that, this dock turns into a dailyfishmarket. If you want answers, you move now."
Then,
Nathan wheezed, pulling out a map. "There's a location… north of Netravatiriver. An abandoned coastalmill. Used to be government-owned. Now it's a ghostzone. Rumours say... your father was last seen there. Years ago. Just for a second."
Balraj leaned in.
"Aurat thi wahan?"
(Was there a woman involved?)
Faheem smirked bitterly.
"Politics mein sirf paisa aur power hota hai. Aurat bhi ek power hoti hai."
(In politics, there's only money and power. And a woman is also a form of power.)
[Spoiler:
Faheem isn't just making a general statement—he's referring to a specificwoman.]
Nathan turned to Nawaz.
"You sure about this?"
Nawaz slipped the USB into his inner pocket. His voice, dark and low:
"Main un logon ko dhoondh nikaalunga jo soch rahe hain ke Nawaz bhi apne baap ki tarah khaali ho gaya hai."
(I'll hunt the ones who think Nawaz, like his father, has disappeared into nothingness.)
Outside, the fog thickened over the water. In the distance, a ship's horn cried out like a warning.
Outside, the waves crashed harder.
The storm was coming.
And Nawaz wasn't running anymore.