Chapter 4: The Noose Tightens
11:00 AM
Risha Malhotra’s office was in its usual state of organized chaos: files strewn across desks, a half-eaten vada pav, and enough empty coffee cups to raise environmental concerns. In the middle of this war zone sat the most relaxed man alive—Raj Mehra. Dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he leaned back like he owned the place, chewing pausely on a pen cap.
“Raj,” Risha began, pinching the bridge of her nose, “we are now officially in over our heads, and you look like you’re on vacation.”
Raj gave her a lazy grin. “Stress kills, Risha. I’m trying to inspire you.”
“You’re inspiring me to throw you out the window,” Arsh muttered, seated at the edge of her desk. “Let’s see how chill you are after a four-story fall.”
Raj tilted his head, unfazed. “This negativity is why your blood pressure’s so high, Kapoor. You need yoga.”
Arsh turned to Risha. “Remind me why we keep him around?”
“Because despite his unbearable existence, he gives us leads,” Risha replied, her tone clipped. She jabbed a finger at Raj. “Do you have one, or are we playing Koffee with Karan today?”
Raj sat up with mock enthusiasm. “Finally! Someone said it. I’ll take ‘betrayals and conspiracies’ for 200 points.”
Risha’s glare could’ve melted steel.
Atishi strolled in, holding a fresh cup of chai for Risha, looking too calm for the room. She raised an eyebrow at Raj. “Is he being a sarcastic menace again?”
“Always,” Arsh replied.
“I am deeply misunderstood,” Raj shot back, putting a hand to his chest in mock tragedy. “I give you people gold, and you treat me like a rejected extra from a daily soap.”
“At this rate, you’ll become an extra,” Arsh threatened.
Risha groaned. “Can we please focus? Raj, spill. Now.”
Raj let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. You all need to relax. There’s this guy—Karim. Bit shady. Works odd jobs, sometimes off-the-books kind of stuff. He mentioned something about a bride shipment that went missing.”
Risha froze. “Shipment?”
“Yeah. Like actual women. Human trafficking, maybe. It’s connected to your runaway bride case.”
Atishi set her chai down with a thud. “Where is this Karim now?”
Raj shrugged. “That’s the fun part. He doesn’t like to stay put. But I know where he might be.”
“Of course you do,” Risha muttered.
Arsh stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s go find this guy before I lose my mind.”
Raj grinned, already heading for the door. “Good vibes only, team. I call shotgun.”
“No one’s letting you touch the radio,” Atishi snapped.
Raj shot her a wink. “You say that now. But wait till I play Lata Mangeshkar remixes.”
2:00 PM
Karim’s lead took them to a shady neighborhood near Ghaziabad, where narrow alleys twisted like a maze. The four of them—Risha, Arsh, Raj, and Atishi—stepped into a decrepit apartment building where the paint peeled like flaky skin.
“Raj, if this is a setup, you’re dead,” Risha warned.
Raj raised his hands innocently. “When have I ever let you down?”
“At least twice this week,” Arsh grumbled.
Inside, the air was suffocating. A dying ceiling fan creaked overhead, but it did nothing for the heat.
“Someone should call an AC repairman,” Atishi muttered under her breath.
As if summoned by divine providence, an actual AC repairman emerged from one of the rooms, wearing a grease-stained shirt and a crooked smile. He carried a rusty toolbox and wiped sweat from his brow, his lean muscles flexing as he tightened a wrench.
Atishi stopped mid-step.
Risha turned to see her frozen, blinking at the repairman like a deer caught in headlights.
“Are you okay?” Risha whispered.
“Hmm?” Atishi blinked, trying to regain her composure. “Yes. Fine. Very fine.”
Raj noticed immediately and smirked. “Atishi, should we call him back to fix the AC in the car, too?”
“Shut up, Raj,” she hissed, cheeks slightly pink.
The repairman glanced up, oblivious, gave Atishi a polite nod, and disappeared through a doorway.
“Cute, isn’t he?” Raj said loudly.
“Raj!” Atishi snapped.
“I’m just being supportive!” Raj grinned. “You’re glowing.”
“I will throw you down the stairs,” Atishi replied, regaining her icy exterior.
Arsh shook his head, muttering, “This is why we can’t get anything done.”
4:00 PM
After an hour of prodding neighbors and bribing a tea seller, they found Karim drinking chai at a roadside stall, casually chatting with a fruit vendor.
“There he is,” Raj whispered.
Risha gestured for silence. “We’ll approach slowly—”
Too late. Karim saw them. His eyes widened, and in an instant, he tossed his chai, bolted across the road, and vanished into the alleyways.
“Oh, for—RUN!” Risha yelled.
The chase was chaos. Risha ran as fast as her tiny legs would allow, yelling at Karim to stop, while Raj sauntered casually, yelling, “Karim bhai, come back! We’ll buy you fancier chai!”
Arsh leaped over a stack of crates, nearly slipping on a banana peel. “Why is it always alleys?”
Atishi sprinted, yelling directions. “Left! Left—no, your left, Arsh!”
Karim was fast, zigzagging through narrow streets like a rat in a maze. Just when it looked like they might lose him, Atishi’s AC repairman appeared again—this time fixing a scooter. Karim ran right into him, knocking the poor man into a puddle.
The repairman shot up, sputtering. “What the—”
Risha grabbed Karim by the collar. “Got you!”
Raj strolled up, out of breath. “Did we win? I feel like we won.”
Arsh glared at him. “You’re not even sweating!”
Raj smirked. “Good vibes, bro. Good vibes.”
Atishi, meanwhile, helped the repairman out of the puddle. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
He looked up, drenched and annoyed, but his expression softened when he saw her. “You again?”
Raj elbowed Risha. “She’s blushing.”
“Shut up, Raj!”
6:00 PM
With Karim finally seated in the back of their car (handcuffed to prevent escape), Risha sat in the front seat, panting.
“You’re going to tell us everything,” she ordered.
Karim, still catching his breath, nodded. “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you! There’s a man—big guy—he runs this whole operation. I don’t know his name, but he’s connected to politicians.”
Risha exchanged a look with Arsh. “Politicians?”
Karim nodded again. “Yeah. They’re moving people—brides—across states. The warehouse I mentioned? That’s their base.”
Raj leaned forward from the backseat, voice unusually serious. “It’s bigger than we thought, Rish.”
Risha took a deep breath. “We’re going to end this.”
Atishi, meanwhile, glanced out the window and spotted the AC repairman waving at her from his shop. She turned quickly, cheeks pink again.
Raj noticed. “Should we invite him to the next stakeout, Atishi?”
“I hate you,” she muttered.
Raj grinned. “No, you don’t.”
8:00 PM
Back at Pink Bow Advocates, the team regrouped, Karim’s information mapped out on a whiteboard.
“This is it,” Risha said, tapping the map. “We hit the warehouse tomorrow.”
Raj clapped his hands together. “Nothing like a good raid to get the blood pumping.”
Risha shot him a look. “You’re staying in the car.”
“I’m wounded, Risha.”
Atishi groaned. “Let’s just survive tomorrow without losing our minds.”
Raj smirked. “Good vibes only, people.”
Risha sighed, rubbing her temples. Tomorrow, everything would come to a head—and for once, even Raj seemed ready.