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Disclaimer: All the stories under #StorySutra are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author does not intend to malign any individual, group, or organisation.
© Lekhak Anurag. Any unauthorised reproduction, personal or commercial, without permission is prohibited. For reproduction or commercial use of the story, please ping me on mailme[at]lekhakanurag.com.
“Tushar! Welcome! Welcome! So, ready for the final press briefing on the last case?” Bhrigu Pandey, Inspector General of Police, Delhi, called Special Detective (SD) Tushar into his cabin. Tushar had led the Central Investigation Force (CIF) for 12 years and had opted for voluntary retirement after solving the 50th case taken up by the unit since its inception. With a 100% success rate and 75% of the accused already convicted, CIF became the most talked-about investigative agency in India.
“Yes, sir, finally, I will have some time for myself,” Tushar said as he sat down. “Sir, is Rishi joining today? I hope he’ll be there for the press briefing?” he asked curiously.
Rishi Thakur, one of the most decorated officers in India’s Intelligence Bureau, had been appointed to replace Tushar as the chief of CIF.
“Yes, he’s already in the briefing room, talking to the officers,” IG Pandey said as he handed a file to Tushar.
“This is the statement the department has prepared. Go through it once. If you need any changes, ask Rekha to make them. She’s in her cubicle. I’m heading to the briefing room. You have 30 minutes; the journalists will be here around 11:00 AM,” IG Pandey said as he prepared to leave.
“No, no. No need to leave. Sit here. Relax. It’s your last day,” he added, stopping Tushar from following him.
As Tushar reviewed the press release, IG Pandey went to welcome Home Minister Gunjan Kapoor, who had come to surprise Tushar and present him with an award for his exemplary track record.
CIF was Tushar’s brainchild, established to take on cases where state agencies failed to find any leads. Police departments from various states would send case files to the central CIF office, which would then select the next case to investigate. The process was meticulously designed to ensure justice was delivered within a set timeframe.
HM Kapoor was keen to expand CIF by establishing separate state units to increase its case-solving capacity. However, Tushar had always opposed the idea, arguing that it would dilute the organisation’s significance. CIF was the highest-funded, most modern, and technologically advanced unit, equipped with state-of-the-art tools, a private jet, and modern weaponry—making it one of the most elite investigative agencies.
“Kapoor ma’am! Welcome,” IG Pandey greeted her, gesturing towards the briefing room.
“Where’s Tushar?” HM Kapoor asked as she walked alongside IG Pandey.
“He’ll be joining us momentarily. Meanwhile, let’s meet the team and the new CIF chief,” IG Pandey replied as they entered the briefing room.
“Everyone’s here!” HM Kapoor said, scanning the 15-member CIF team. “Congratulations, Rishi. It’s your first day!” she added.
“Thank you, ma’am. This is a huge responsibility. I’m grateful for your support in backing my appointment,” Rishi said.
His name had been shortlisted alongside seven other candidates to replace Tushar. Rishi and his team had been responsible for dismantling seven terrorist outfits across the country, leading to over 230 arrests in the past decade. His appointment had come after ten rounds of interviews and endorsements from top lawmakers, including HM Kapoor.
“The pleasure is all mine, Rishi. I’ve followed your work since I took office four years ago. You deserve every bit of this recognition,” HM Kapoor said.
As they discussed the recently solved case, Tushar entered the room.
“Sir, there were two minor changes. I’ve made them my—” Before he could finish, the entire room erupted into applause.
“Come on, guys, don’t start this now. I’m already emotional at the thought of leaving this agency,” Tushar said, his voice thick with emotion.
The last press conference
“Come, have a seat. The reporters will be here any moment,” Rishi said, gesturing for Tushar to sit next to him. Soon, the room started to fill with reporters from various media houses. As this was Tushar’s last press conference, everyone wanted to have a word with him.
“Relax! I will answer every question. First, let me issue an official statement. We are here for the rest of the day,” Tushar said with a broad smile as he stood up to take the dais.
At 49, Tushar had many stories to tell, and he was writing a book based on the cases solved by CIF since its inception. His announcement of the book, made during the last press conference alongside his retirement, had instantly become the talk of the town.
“Everyone, please take a seat. We will follow the same arrangement. I will issue the statement first. Gautam and Vivek have the mic. If you have a question, please request it from them. Don’t rush—I am not leaving without answering all your questions, and that is a promise,” Tushar said. “So, let’s begin.”
There was a large screen behind the desk. On that screen, the photographs of convicts were displayed under the title “The Unicorns” and next to them, photographs of two CIF personnel were there who played key roles in cracking the case with the title “The Saint Warriors”. These are the names given by Tushar. His book name was also “The Saint and the Unicorn”, where the unicorn was evil force.
“At approximately 10:00 AM on 15th February 2021, Saket Police Station received a distress call reporting a foul odour emanating from a flat in Gautam Buddha Society. Responding officers discovered the bodies of a married couple in their bedroom, with evidence of a physical altercation but no signs of forced entry or burglary. The deceased, identified as Devika Sharma and Navin Sharma, had no known family and had been residing in the flat for the past three months.
Following two weeks of intensive investigation without conclusive leads, the case was referred to the Central Investigation Force (CIF) on 8th March 2021. CIF initiated a comprehensive forensic re-evaluation, including a secondary post-mortem examination. This resulted in the recovery of crucial forensic evidence that had been overlooked during the initial investigation.
Through a combination of surveillance analysis and forensic profiling, CIF identified two persons of interest: Ritika Gandhi and Eshwar Gandhi. Both were associates of the victims and had been observed in the vicinity multiple times before the incident. Further forensic evidence, including the recovery of stolen valuables and financial assets belonging to the deceased, led to their formal interrogation and subsequent arrest.
The case is currently sub judice, and further disclosures will be made in accordance with legal protocols. No official case documents, including the FIR, will be made public at this time. A detailed briefing document will be provided to accredited media representatives after this press conference.
“If you have any questions, please ask,” Tushar said, placing the paper down.
“Sir, what is the release date of your book?” Deepika, a journalist from India Reports channel, asked.
“Deepika, case-related questions for now,” Tushar replied with a smile.
As the reporters continued with their questions, Rishi turned to IG Pandey.
“Sir, I need to talk to you,” he said in a serious tone.
“What happened? Everything alright?” IG Pandey asked.
“Yes, yes, everything is fine. Sir, since I will be leading the unit, can I get the remaining case files? I have only received the first five cases. I need to examine them to understand how this organisation functions,” Rishi requested.
“Of course! I will ask Nakul to deliver the boxes to your flat. Has Maitri shifted?” IG Pandey asked.
Maitri, Rishi’s wife, had been working in a consulting firm before he was offered the job. She had taken a sabbatical to relocate.
“Yes, she arrived yesterday. Please ask Nakul to ensure the files are delivered today itself,” Rishi insisted.
“Is everything alright?” IG Pandey asked again, noticing Rishi looked tense.
“Yes, sir. There is something on my mind. I will discuss it with you after checking the files.”
The press conference continued for another two hours, followed by a team meeting. Rishi officially took charge of CIF, and the day ended on a positive note.
“Good luck, Rishi. I am always here for you. Call me anytime—just don’t do it for the next one week!” Tushar said as they left the building.
“Going for another off-the-grid trip?” Rishi asked.
“YES! And this time, no pressure to return in five days! Haha!” Tushar laughed. For the first time, he would be able to enjoy his solitude for longer than his usual short break.
Every CIF member was granted five days off after solving a case to rejuvenate and return with a fresh mindset. This rule was embedded in the organisation’s code and was strictly followed. Rishi always chose to go off the grid, leaving all electronics behind and travelling somewhere in his RV to unwind.
The case files
By evening, Nakul arrived with all the case files. There were 45 boxes, each dedicated to a separate case.
“Hello, Maitri ma’am, these are for Rishi sir. Where should I put them?” Nakul asked as Maitri opened the door.
“Wait, come inside. Let me call him,” she said, turning away and gesturing towards the sofa, signalling Nakul to sit.
“Rishi! Rishi! Nakul is here,” she called out before heading into the kitchen. “Nakul, coffee or tea?” she asked.
“Tea, ma’am,” Nakul replied as he sat down on the sofa.
Rishi emerged from his home office.
“Ah, you’ve brought the case files?” he asked, wiping his hands with a towel. “Do one thing—ask them to place them in my office, next to the right-side wall. Make sure the labels are facing forward,” Rishi instructed as he sat down on the sofa.
As the boxes were placed in his office, Maitri brought the tea.
“When are you joining, sir?” Nakul asked, taking a sip.
“I’ll be there tomorrow. There must be several pending requests,” Rishi replied. “Nakul, do one thing—ask Raveena to take charge of the briefing tomorrow. We’ll pick the case accordingly. She was one of the first to join the unit, so she knows the process well.”
“I like how the evidence has been collected in all the cases. Photographs, videos—everything is systematically numbered. It’ll be easier than I anticipated to take over,” Rishi said without looking up from the file he was reading.
“Tushar sir was very particular about it… Sir, I’ll take my leave now and pass on the message to Raveena. Anything else?” Nakul asked, standing up.
“No, no. Nothing. Have a good night, Nakul,” Rishi said with a smile.
As Nakul left, the expression on Rishi’s face changed instantly.
“But you said you would wait before taking the next case,” Maitri said, taking the last sip of her tea.
“Yes, I’ll explain later. I need to check something before morning. I hope you won’t mind me skipping dinner,” Rishi said as he walked towards his office.
“Not at all. It seems serious. Take your time. We’ll talk at breakfast. I’ll put the dinner in the fridge—heat it up before eating,” she said while heading towards the bedroom.
“It’s going to be a long night…” Rishi murmured as he entered his home office.
The anomalies
There was a board inside Rishi’s office mounted on the wall, displaying photographs of crime scenes and their corresponding accused. Rishi stood before it for a moment, then glanced at the boxes. Scratching his head, he murmured, “How can this be happening? How could anyone have missed this?”
Rishi had discovered anomalies in five of the solved cases. These five were still sub judice. However, many of the cases handled by the unit had already gone through the legal process, with the convicts serving their sentences. Ten of them had exhausted all legal remedies up to the Supreme Court of India.
Rishi set up three additional boards on the walls to accommodate photographs from the other boxes. As he opened the first box, he ignored the case files and went straight to the photographs. After scrolling through over 150 images of the crime scene, he found what he had feared he might. This was the first case CIF had ever solved.
“It’s been there from the beginning… I can’t believe this. I need to make sure it continues in the other cases as well…” Rishi murmured to himself again.
“Rishi, are you coming to bed or not? It’s your first official day at the office,” Maitri said, opening the door to his office.
She froze for a second, staring at the photographs covering the boards. “What exactly are you doing?” she asked, her expression filled with shock.
“Nothing. I’m coming in five minutes. I need to get some rest—I’ll continue this tomorrow after work,” Rishi said, closing the eighth box he had opened. “Maitri, no one should come in here. I don’t want this room cleaned for the next few days. I’ll be locking it—make sure no one enters.”
“But what is going on?” Maitri asked again.
“Nothing. I’ll tell you, but this isn’t the right time,” Rishi replied as he washed his hands and walked towards the bedroom.
The first day
Rishi arrived at his office earlier than usual. At that hour, only Sehdev, one of the support staff, was present.
“Sir, you’re here early. It’s only 7:30 AM. I haven’t even cleaned the office yet,” Sehdev said, glancing at both Rishi and the clock.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be in the cafeteria. Is anyone there?” Rishi asked while checking his phone. Then, looking at Sehdev again, he added with a smile, “What time do you usually get here? Even security seemed confused to see me this early.”
“When the team is working on a case, there’s no fixed schedule—even for me. I usually arrive by 7 AM and clean whatever space I can find. Sometimes, babu aur memsaab log stay overnight in the office,” Sehdev said as he walked alongside Rishi towards the cafeteria.
When Sehdev first joined the office, he had only passed his 10th standard. It was Raveena who encouraged him to continue his studies and personally taught him English. Now, thanks to her, he was in the final year of his graduation.
“Raveena ma’am will be here soon. Chandan is in the café, sir,” Sehdev said, checking if anyone else was around.
“Chandan, can I have a coffee, please?” Rishi asked as he sat down.
“Sure, sir. Would you like something to eat?” Chandan asked while preparing the coffee.
“What’s available?” Rishi glanced towards the counter.
“Freshly baked cookies, croissants, atta biscuits, and bun maska. Would you like anything?” Chandan asked as he served the coffee.
“One croissant and a few atta biscuits will do,” Rishi said with a smile.
As Chandan served the snacks, Rishi started reading through the case summaries he had brought with him.
“Sir, Raveena ma’am is here. I’ve cleaned your office as well. Anything else I can do for you?” Sehdev asked, peeking through the cafeteria door.
“No, just tell her to come to my office. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Rishi replied, quickly finishing his coffee.
“Hi, Raveena. Did Nakul give you, my message?” Rishi asked as he entered his office, where Raveena was already waiting.
“Yes, sir. I’ll sort out the files and prepare the conference room before the team arrives. What time are we expecting to have the meeting, sir?” she asked curiously.
“Around 9 AM. That should be fine, right?” Rishi asked, his expression neutral.
“Yes, that will be fine. I’ll take my leave now, sir. See you at 9 in the conference room. Anything else?” Raveena asked as she turned to leave.
“No, nothing. Just ask Sehdev to call me five minutes before the meeting,” Rishi said without looking up.
“Sure, sir,” Raveena said while closing the office door behind her.
For the next hour, Rishi went through the case summaries. He still couldn’t believe what he had discovered in the photographs.
The first meeting
“Sir, everyone is in the conference room. They’re waiting for you,” Sehdev informed Rishi.
“Okay, I’m coming. Sehdev, can you please ask Chandan to send coffee for everyone?” Rishi said as he walked towards the conference room.
“Sure, sir,” Sehdev replied, heading towards the cafeteria.
“Alright! So, everyone’s here. We’ve already had our introductions the other day. Let’s get started with the work,” Rishi said as he sat down.
“Raveena, you’ll need to explain how the cases are selected as we move forward,” he added.
“Sure, sir. These are the cases that have been referred to us over the past month. There are 58 of them. Every team member here will take one file and review whether the case can be shortlisted. Out of these, there are 10 cases that came highly recommended by top officials from either the state or the centre,” Raveena explained.
“Tell me more about these ‘highly recommended’ cases. If I’m not mistaken, most of the cases chosen by the team for investigation came from such recommendations,” Rishi asked, glancing at a sheet of paper from the file he had brought with him.
“Yes, sir. 42 cases, to be precise,” Raveena replied.
“Okay. Do you know the criteria for these cases getting recommended by top officials?” Rishi asked, looking first at Raveena and then at the rest of the team.
“No, sir. That’s something we were never told. Only Tushar sir knew. We asked a few times, but he always avoided the question,” Raveena said.
“Alright, let’s discuss the cases first. Then we’ll decide which one to pick,” Rishi said, closing his file.
Rishi leaned back in his chair, watching the team meticulously flip through the case files. Their efficiency was undeniable, but something felt off. There was an unspoken rhythm to how they navigated the cases, almost as if the decisions had already been made before the files hit the table. It wasn’t just their method—it was their certainty.
“Tushar sir had this way of simplifying things for us,” Raveena said, noticing Rishi’s contemplative gaze. “He taught us what patterns to look for, how to trust our instincts. After a while, we all started thinking like him.”
Rishi nodded slowly, but a small knot tightened in his stomach. When everyone thinks the same, who’s left to ask the right questions?
He listened carefully as the team briefed him on each case. They were efficient, quickly identifying key points from the files.
“Do we get any evidence with the case files?” Rishi interrupted.
“Yes, sir. You can check them on your iPad,” Raveena said, pointing towards the device placed in front of Rishi.
“Okay. Continue,” Rishi replied as he opened the folders for each case and quickly scrolled through the photographs.
He noticed something peculiar in one case that had been recommended by the Gujarat State Home Minister himself. He exited the folder and looked around the room, observing the team as they meticulously discussed which case to pick.
Chandan entered with the coffee and began serving.
“Let’s take a break,” Rishi said, pausing the discussion.
“Alright, let’s do an exercise. I’m going to write a file number on this piece of paper. Once you’ve all reached a conclusion, we’ll see if the final case you pick matches my prediction. If it matches, today’s lunch is on me,” Rishi said, writing a file number on a piece of paper, folding it, and placing it under his file.
Everyone exchanged confused glances. This was completely different from how Tushar had conducted meetings. Since its inception, there had never been any element of “fun” in these sessions. Or perhaps Rishi had something entirely different in mind…
After another two hours of discussion, the team finally reached a conclusion on which case to pick.
“So, are you ready?” Rishi asked with a smile as the team looked at him curiously.
He opened the piece of paper, revealing the same case—the one referred by the Home Minister of Gujarat.
“Let’s go. We’ll have lunch at some Punjabi restaurant,” Rishi said, standing up with a grin.
“But how, sir?” Raveena asked, her curiosity piqued.
“Everything in its own time, Raveena. For now, just do one thing—call the Home Ministry and IG sir. Fix a meeting for this evening,” Rishi instructed.
“Sure, sir…” Raveena replied, still puzzled.
Picking up the breadcrumbs
After returning from lunch, the team began preparing to leave for Gujarat the next morning. Before leaving for a case, they prepare their own case file, register a new FIR, and inform the relevant authorities in the state where they are going to investigate. The team divided into five groups and started working on their assigned tasks. Meanwhile, Rishi got ready for the meeting scheduled for 5 PM.
“Sir, may I come in?” Rishi asked, knocking on the door of IG Pandey’s office.
“Yes, yes. Do come in,” IG said, closing the file he had been reading.
“So, you’re going to Gujarat. It’s an important case, Rishi. I’ll discuss it with you after I return from the meeting,” he added, not giving Rishi a chance to say anything.
“Let’s go. We’ll be late otherwise,” IG continued, heading towards the door.
Rishi didn’t argue or explain why he wanted to meet privately, as he was more interested in discussing things with both the IG and the HM together.
When they arrived at the Ministry of Home Affairs, HM Kapoor was just entering the building.
“Kapoor ma’am!” Rishi called out. She turned and signalled for them to join her. Instead of heading to her office, she walked straight towards the conference room.
“Rishi, I don’t have much time. I have another meeting scheduled in 45 minutes. I hope our discussion will be over by then,” HM Kapoor said, gesturing for them to sit.
“Yes, ma’am. I only have a few questions regarding the unit before I express my concerns. Ma’am, sir, can you please look at this list?” Rishi handed both of them copies of the file he had prepared.
As they scanned the case titles and summaries, Rishi noticed a visible change in their expressions. Their faces paled slightly. Turning to IG, Rishi asked, “Sir, I’ll be straightforward. Is there anything common among these cases? Is there a reason why these cases were referred by top officials, either at the centre or state level?”
Both IG and HM exchanged glances.
“Rishi, there is a common factor, but you have to understand that it’s classified. One thing I can assure you of is that there are hundreds of other cases referred by the Centre or top state officials that didn’t make the cut for the team,” HM Kapoor said, closing the file.
“But how did you come to the conclusion that these 42 cases have something in common?” IG questioned.
“Sir, I’ll tell you if you promise to give me clearance and reveal what the common factor is. But first, look at the names in the second column of each case,” Rishi pointed towards the file.
“Yes, I saw. The names don’t repeat, and they appear random,” IG said, sounding agitated. “But what are you getting at?”
“Sir, you need to be a little patient. I’ve chosen two photographs for each case, which are in Annexure 2. Now, please look at them and see if you notice anything common,” Rishi said, observing that HM Kapoor wasn’t pleased with his cryptic approach.
“I don’t have much time, Rishi. This better be worth it,” she muttered, flipping to the last page.
After staring at the photographs for a few minutes, both the IG and HM admitted they didn’t notice anything suspicious.
“Sir, ma’am, these photographs were taken by our team members after reaching the crime scenes. But look at the images of areas not directly related to the crime. In every photograph, there’s a common factor…”
As Rishi saw that they had finally noticed it, he handed them both pen drives.
“Can you please arrange clearance for me by the time I return from the case?” he requested.
They both nodded, exchanging uneasy glances.
“I’ll take my leave. Thank you for your time,” Rishi said, leaving the office.
“IG sir, how is this possible? How did Tushar miss it?” HM Kapoor asked, her voice tense.
“I’m not sure. Let’s call him and ask,” IG said, pulling out his phone. But before he could dial, HM Kapoor stopped him.
“No, let’s not do that. Let’s give Rishi a chance. I’ll send a request for clearance—it has to come from the Prime Minister’s Office. Let’s keep this to ourselves for now,” she said firmly.
“Okay. I’ll leave. I hope we resolve this matter as soon as possible…” IG Pandey said, opening the door and walking out.
The Gujarat case
Rishi, curious about what he might find at the crime scene, couldn’t sleep. The next morning, Nakul arrived to pick him up.
“Nakul, take this bag,” Rishi said, pointing to the smaller one. “I’ll carry this one,” he added, lifting the larger bag.
Nakul didn’t say anything and quietly walked beside him, the bag in hand.
“Has the team reached the airport?” Rishi asked.
“Yes, sir. Everyone’s waiting in the lounge,” Nakul replied.
Rishi could sense a hint of confusion in his tone.
“What’s wrong, Nakul?” he asked.
“Nothing, sir,” Nakul replied, but then showed Rishi some messages from the team’s chat group.
“We’re just curious how you managed to predict which case would be chosen…” Nakul said, looking at him with hope for an answer.
“Everything has its time, Nakul…” Rishi said, brushing off the question for now.
The team arrived in Gujarat by the afternoon.
“Welcome, sir,” SHO Rameshbhai greeted them as soon as he saw them. He had been waiting at the airport to escort them to the hotel where the team would be staying.
“Sir, we’ll head to the hotel first. You can freshen up. Police cars will be waiting to take you to the crime scene,” Rameshbhai said, opening the car door for Rishi.
“No, no… we want to go to the crime scene first,” Rishi insisted as they got into the vehicles.
“Sure, sir. As you say,” Rameshbhai responded, instructing the drivers to head towards the crime scene.
Ten team members had accompanied Rishi, while the rest remained at the office in Delhi, prepared to analyse the information they were about to receive.
As soon as Rishi entered the crime scene, he rushed to the living room to check something specific. He picked up an item, placed it in an evidence bag, and said, “I’ll keep this with me.”
Turning to Raveena, he instructed, “Gather all the evidence. Make sure to tag and bag everything you think might help in the case.” He entrusted her with the task, knowing she was one of the oldest and most experienced team members.
As the team got to work, Rishi turned towards Rameshbhai.
“Do one thing—please go back to your police station and pack all the evidence. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and handle the rest back at the office in Delhi,” Rishi said, his tone firm and expression unreadable.
Rameshbhai looked confused. CIF had always worked alongside local law enforcement to solve cases. Rishi noticed his hesitation.
“Here,” he said, handing Rameshbhai a letter. “This is an order from the Home Ministry giving us full control over the case. We’re in the process of implementing some changes. You can leave now. We’ll come to the station later to speak to the witnesses you’ve already shortlisted.”
Without another word, Rameshbhai left, still puzzled.
For the next two to three hours, the team meticulously combed through the crime scene, collecting evidence, fingerprints, photographs, and other materials.
Afterwards, they returned to the hotel, freshened up, and headed to the police station for questioning. The team worked tirelessly through the night, completing all interviews before catching an early morning flight back to Delhi.
Everyone was exhausted and eager to sleep on the flight—except Raveena. She couldn’t shake her curiosity about why the local police weren’t involved.
“Sir, if you don’t mind… may I ask why we’re heading back so soon?” she asked hesitantly.
“Nothing serious,” Rishi replied, looking up briefly. “I’m trying something new. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll revert to the old method in the next case.”
He smiled slightly, then returned to reading the case file, leaving Raveena with more questions than answers.
The reveal
After returning to Delhi, Rishi received a call from HM Kapoor informing him that he had received clearance. She asked him to come to her office along with IG Pandey.
“Rishi, what I’m about to tell you must remain between us. All these 42 cases involved special undercover agents and protected witnesses from various investigations. Their true identities were hidden due to the sensitivity of the cases. Twelve of them involved foreign governments. Three of our best foreign intelligence agents, who handled over 50 covert operations, were among them. That’s why these cases were referred to CIF,” HM Kapoor explained.
Their deaths caused far-reaching disruptions,” HM Kapoor continued, her tone growing heavier. “Critical research projects were abandoned mid-phase, covert missions were compromised, and several classified operations had to be scrapped entirely. The foreign agents who were killed were working on sensitive intelligence exchanges, and their loss strained diplomatic ties with allied nations. Domestically, it derailed years of undercover work, exposing vulnerabilities in our national security apparatus. Some missions are still grappling with the fallout, and in certain cases, we may never recover what was lost.
This is precisely why these cases were transferred to CIF,” HM Kapoor added. “Given the sensitivity and the high stakes involved, we needed the most elite unit handling them. And because CIF had an impeccable track record, we never doubted the outcomes. The fact that several other high-profile cases were rejected by the team only reinforced our belief that there was no pattern or bias in case selection. It gave us a ‘sense of security’ that the process was foolproof, and that justice was being served impartially.
“However, these weren’t the only high-profile cases. There were around 45 more that were referred to CIF but never picked by the team. Because of the number of rejected cases, we never thought they could be linked…” she continued.
“Now, regarding the evidence you found at the crime scene, which links the current case to the previous ones—explain,” HM Kapoor and IG Pandey both looked at Rishi with curiosity.
“Here, ma’am. This is the deck of cards I saw in every photograph. The design matches. The placement matches. The direction matches. This is the only pack we have because no one from the previous cases thought to collect it as evidence since it wasn’t in the room where the crime occurred. I checked it myself. There are no fingerprints. I also used my network to find out where it could have been bought, but had no luck,” Rishi said, placing the deck of cards, sealed in an evidence packet, on the table.
“I’ve also checked the background of all team members, including Tushar. Ma’am, I think it’s Tushar… He’s the one common link,” Rishi said, looking at HM Kapoor, hoping for permission to question him.
“And why do you think that?” HM Kapoor asked.
Rishi began from the first case and explained what he had observed during the investigation process.
“During the briefing of the current case, the selection process, and everything else, I noticed the team followed a strict pattern when choosing cases. Recommendations from higher officials always played a role, but they weren’t the only factor. Here, look at the photographs of the first page of every selected case file, and five rejected cases from the same batch,” he said, handing over the files.
“If you notice, there’s a signature on the first page of each selected case file. Tushar subtly trained the team to choose files that had the chief’s signature. In the current case, I signed the file from Gujarat, and voila! The team picked it without any solid justification to set it apart from the others,” Rishi explained.
As he spoke, IG Pandey and HM Kapoor’s expressions grew tense.
“There were several other subtle hints alongside the signatures that pushed the team towards selecting specific cases. I’ve listed them all in this file for you to review,” Rishi said, handing them each a copy.
“I think, ma’am, we should bring Tushar in for questioning—”
Before Rishi could finish his sentence, Nakul barged in.
“Sir, sir! Look at the news! Look at the news!” he shouted, grabbing the remote and switching on the TV.
“As I told you, in all the cases CIF solved, none of the convicts were the true criminals behind them. It was me. It was always me,” said a man sitting on a chair in the middle of a large hall, with light falling on his back. His voice was distorted, clearly modified using a voice changer.
“I’m waiting, Rishi. Come and get me,” the figure said, before announcing the address of the auditorium where he was waiting.
Rishi looked at HM Kapoor and IG Pandey, who both almost screamed in unison, “GO!”
Rishi rushed out with Nakul.
“Where’s Raveena and the others?” he asked.
“Raveena’s in court, sir. She had a hearing for one of our old cases. She’s not answering her phone. The rest of the team and officers from 15 police stations are already headed towards the auditorium,” Nakul explained as they jumped into the car and sped towards the location.
As soon as they arrived, Rishi instructed everyone to put on bulletproof vests and stay alert.
“Keep your senses sharp. Watch for anything unusual,” he warned.
Just as they began moving towards the hall, someone screamed, “Tushar sir!”
Rishi turned in shock. Tushar was running towards them.
“I saw it on the news. What the hell is going on? Were we duped? Really?” Tushar asked Rishi, who didn’t respond.
“Give me a gun, Rishi! Give me a gun. I want to join,” Tushar insisted.
Still in shock, Rishi handed him a gun, composed himself, and moved towards the hall.
“Let’s go.”
As they entered, a voice echoed through the hall.
“Welcome, Rishi, welcome… I never thought you’d be able to catch me. But you’re smarter than I expected…” the person said.
“Sit right there! Do not move!” Rishi shouted, as everyone pointed their guns at the figure sitting in the middle of the hall.
“You think I’m not prepared for this?” the person replied, standing up and walking towards them.
“I said, STO—”
Before Rishi could finish, automatic machine guns, mounted on robotic rigs, locked their lasers onto the team.
Before anyone could react, the entire hall lit up with gunfire.
“TAKE COVER!” Rishi screamed.
As they scrambled for cover behind the seats, the figure stepped into the light.
It was Raveena.
The team froze in shock.
Raveena switched off the voice modulator that had disguised her voice.
“You ruined my life, Rishi. You ruined it. My group completed over 100 contracts without a problem, but you ruined everything,” she hissed, pulling out a gun.
Rishi, taking cover, aimed his weapon at her.
“It’s over, Raveena. Surrender,” he said as the guns finally stopped firing.
“Become our witness. Help us find the real criminals, and your sentence will be reduced—I assure you,” Rishi offered.
Suddenly, he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his head. He turned around.
It was Tushar.
Another shock rippled through Rishi and the team.
The gunfire ceased, and for a brief moment, the hall was eerily silent. Raveena stood in the spotlight, her weapon still aimed at Rishi, while the team tried to process the betrayal. Then, from the shadows behind Rishi, Tushar spoke—calm, almost casual.
“Impressive, isn’t she?” Tushar said, his gun moved from Rishi to Raveena. “We built something extraordinary, didn’t we, Raveena?”
Raveena’s eyes darted towards him, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. “Tushar… what are you doing?”
Tushar’s expression darkened. “I’m cleaning up your mess.”
Rishi’s heart pounded. They were both in on it. The cases, the evidence—it had all been orchestrated. But now, Tushar saw Raveena as a liability. She’d exposed herself too soon, jeopardising everything.
“We had rules,” Tushar continued, his voice cold and steady. “But you just couldn’t follow them, could you?”
Before Raveena could respond, Tushar pulled the trigger, shooting her in the head. She crumpled to the floor, her secrets dying with her.
Tushar stood over her body for a moment, his face unreadable. Then, he turned his gun on Rishi, but this time, there was something different in his eyes—a dark, simmering rage.
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Tushar snarled, his voice low and venomous. “The perfect officer, the hero of CIF. But you were just lucky. I built this organisation from the ground up. It should have been mine… forever.” His hand trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the weight of his resentment.
He took a step closer, the gun pressed firmly against Rishi’s temple. “We were never here to serve justice, Rishi. Justice is just a story people tell themselves to sleep at night. But power? Influence? That’s real. I had it all. And you—you ruined it.”
For a fleeting second, Tushar’s eyes flickered with something else—regret, perhaps. He glanced at Raveena’s lifeless body, his jaw tightening. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this…” he muttered, almost to himself. But then, as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability vanished, replaced by the cold, calculating man he had always been.
He smirked, leaning in closer. “You can kill me, Rishi. But you’ll never kill the game.”
That was all Rishi needed. In one swift motion, he pulled his backup pistol from his ankle holster and fired. The shot echoed through the hall as Tushar collapsed, the smirk still lingering on his face.
As Tushar collapsed, the two undercover criminals who had infiltrated one of the most sophisticated law enforcement agencies were dead.
Over the next 30 days, Rishi worked tirelessly to uncover the identities of others involved in the syndicate. They arrested 15 more members of the group.
The “convicts”—the fake ones—were released on bail pending review. New cases were opened by the Central Agency of Investigation (CAI), which deals with cases involving terrorist organisations.
CIF was shut down.
The “saint” wasn’t the saint, but the “unicorn”…
The syndicate was known as The Jack of Spades, an international network of assassins composed of former law enforcement officers, intelligence agents, and legal professionals. Tushar and Raveena had been part of this shadowy organisation long before CIF was even formed. The very creation of CIF served as a perfect cover for their operations, allowing them to manipulate investigations and secure wrongful convictions, diverting attention from the real criminals—themselves.
Each case selected by CIF was meticulously chosen, with high-profile recommendations ensuring no one would question their legitimacy. But the syndicate’s reach extended far beyond simple case manipulation. The Jack of Spades operated as a mercenary network, executing contracts for a diverse array of clients—ranging from powerful political figures and foreign governments to high-profile criminals and international terror organisations. Their targets were carefully selected to serve broader agendas, whether it was to silence a whistleblower, derail a covert mission, or eliminate a threat to organised crime networks.
While their operations were deeply embedded in India through CIF, the true scope of their influence was international. Most of their activities were linked to global interests, using India as a strategic base to carry out assassinations that impacted intelligence and law enforcement agencies worldwide. This complex web of alliances and contracts made it nearly impossible to trace their actions back to the real perpetrators, allowing the syndicate to thrive in the shadows for years.
A breakthrough in the investigation came when a diary was discovered at Raveena’s residence. Initially coded, it took the team days to decode its contents. What they found shed light on her deep-rooted involvement in the syndicate. Raveena was the daughter of a notorious assassin couple, both of whom had been part of an international network of contract killers. Groomed from a young age, she had been embedded into CIF as part of a long-term strategy, seamlessly blending her professional role with her hidden allegiance to The Jack of Spades.
Tushar’s motives, however, were far less complex. The investigation revealed that his involvement stemmed purely from greed. Unlike Raveena, who was indoctrinated into the world of assassins, Tushar was drawn in by the allure of money and power. His impeccable track record and the prestige of leading CIF provided the perfect cover to manipulate cases and accumulate wealth through illicit contracts. Together, their contrasting motivations made them a formidable duo within the syndicate, balancing calculated legacy with opportunistic corruption.
The deck of cards was more than just a calling card—it was a signature of The Jack of Spades. Each deck symbolised their control over the cases, a subtle taunt to anyone who might uncover the truth. The placement of the cards in seemingly irrelevant areas of the crime scenes was a calculated move, a hidden message that the syndicate was always one step ahead, playing their hand in plain sight while the world remained oblivious.
Back home, Rishi finally sat down with Maitri, recounting the harrowing truth behind CIF’s downfall. As he detailed Tushar and Raveena’s betrayal, Maitri listened in stunned silence, her eyes welling with disbelief. The weight of the revelations hung heavily between them. “I thought I knew him,” Rishi whispered, his voice barely audible as Tushar was an old “friend”. Maitri placed her hand over his, offering silent support. The scars of trust broken would take longer to heal than any physical wound.
Home Minister Gunjan Kapoor, overwhelmed by guilt for endorsing Tushar and pushing for CIF’s expansion, tendered her resignation, citing personal failure in safeguarding the integrity of the agency. IG Pandey, though not directly implicated, was transferred to a less prominent department, his reputation forever tainted by the scandal.
Though CIF was shut down, a new covert unit was quietly established to counter such syndicate infiltrations in the future. But as Rishi settled into his new role, he entered the main office and caught sight of Nakul sitting in his cubicle, staring blankly at an old CIF team photo pinned to the wall. The usual spark in his eyes was gone, replaced by a hollow silence. He had idolised Tushar, and the betrayal cut deep. Their shared grief lingered unspoken, a quiet reminder of the trust that had been shattered. On Rishi’s desk lay an envelope. Inside was a single card—the Jack of Spades—with the words scrawled beneath it:
“It’s not over.”
© Lekhak Anurag. Any unauthorised reproduction, personal or commercial, without permission is prohibited. For reproduction or commercial use of the story, please ping me on mailme[at]lekhakanurag[dot]com.
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