Chapter 0018: Shadows on the Road
The old Land Cruiser sped along the narrow road just outside Lahore, its tires crunching the gravel beneath. The morning sun was struggling to break through the heavy gray clouds above, casting everything in a dim, muted light. Inside the vehicle, silence sat heavy between the three passengers.
Zara stared out the window, her fingers clutching the edge of her shawl. The stranger's voice from the phone still echoed in her ears. Every bump in the road made her heart lurch, as if someone might appear from the shadows at any second.
Adeel drove with focused precision, eyes scanning the road ahead. He knew shortcuts and back routes—ones not listed on any GPS. Ones meant for disappearances.
Ryan sat beside Zara, his hand gently over hers. "We'll find answers," he murmured. "And we'll stop whoever's behind this."
Zara nodded, though doubt gnawed at her resolve.
"We're going to an old friend of my father's," Adeel said finally, breaking the silence. "Colonel Faheem. Retired ISI. If anyone can help us stay off the radar and track whoever's after you… it's him."
Zara blinked. "And we can trust him?"
"I trust him with my life," Adeel said. "He helped bury secrets for decades. Now we need him to help uncover them."
They arrived at a secluded farmhouse on the outskirts of Sheikhupura by noon. Colonel Faheem was waiting—a tall man with silver hair, sharp eyes, and a handshake that still carried military firmness. His presence filled the room like thunder.
He listened quietly as Zara and Ryan explained what had happened, occasionally nodding but offering no interruption. When they finished, he leaned back in his armchair, hands steepled under his chin.
"People like this," he said slowly, "don't just want power. They thrive on silence. The moment you speak up… you become a threat."
He turned to Adeel. "You said they want the journal?"
Adeel pulled it from his backpack and handed it over. Faheem flipped through the pages with methodical care, stopping at a few entries and frowning. Then he looked up.
"Your father was onto something. These names… they aren't just corrupt businessmen. Some are ex-intelligence, some ex-army. A network of influence—illegal deals, political manipulation, maybe even foreign funding."
Zara felt the floor shift beneath her. "And my family was part of it?"
"Not willingly," Faheem said gently. "But your name, Zara, your legacy… it's a key. And they don't want you to know why."
Ryan leaned forward. "So what's the plan?"
"We smoke them out," Faheem said. "But quietly. Carefully. I'll reach out to an old contact in Lahore—someone deep inside the system. You three, stay here tonight. And stay inside."
As night fell, Zara stood on the rooftop, watching the horizon disappear into darkness. A warm breeze blew against her face, but it brought no comfort. She had left Lahore hoping for peace. Instead, she had walked straight into the fire.
Ryan joined her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
"Do you regret coming back?" he asked softly.
Zara didn't answer immediately. Her eyes stayed on the stars above—dim, distant, but still there.
"No," she whispered. "Because this time, I'm not running."
Below them, in the stillness of the fields, something moved.
A shadow, unnoticed.
Watching.
Waiting.
Midnight Intrusion
The silence of the farmhouse was almost too perfect—an unnatural calm that pressed against the windows like a warning. Zara lay awake in the guest room, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Ryan slept beside her, breathing steady, unaware of the storm swirling outside their bubble of safety.
But Zara couldn't sleep.
Not with that strange feeling gnawing at her chest.
Somewhere in the house, a floorboard creaked.
Her body tensed.
She sat up, straining to hear.
Another creak. Closer this time.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed, grabbed the small flashlight Colonel Faheem had given her, and padded barefoot to the door. Ryan stirred but didn't wake.
The hallway was dim, lit only by a faint glow from the moon outside. She tiptoed toward the main staircase, every instinct screaming that something wasn't right.
From the kitchen came a whisper of movement.
She pressed herself against the wall, holding her breath.
Then a soft metallic click echoed—a sound she recognized all too well.
A gun being loaded.
Before she could move, a hand reached out from behind and pulled her back.
She nearly screamed—until she saw Adeel's face in the shadows.
He held a finger to his lips and pointed toward the kitchen. In his other hand was a pistol, steady and cold.
Together, they crept closer.
Inside the kitchen, a tall man dressed in black stood over the dining table. He was flipping through Colonel Faheem's notes and the journal, his gloved fingers careful not to leave prints. He moved like someone who had done this before—calm, clinical, unhurried.
Then he spoke into a small earpiece.
"I've found it. She was here. Confirmed. Pull out. I'm destroying the evidence."
Zara's breath caught.
Adeel raised his weapon, took a step into the kitchen, and barked, "Drop it. Now."
The intruder didn't flinch. He turned slowly, raising his hands.
"I'm not here for you," he said in a smooth, chilling voice. "But if you insist on playing heroes, I can oblige."
In a split second, he threw a flashbang from his coat pocket. The room erupted in light and sound.
Zara screamed, stumbling backward. Adeel fired blindly, but the intruder was already out the window, vanishing into the fields like a phantom.
Ryan came running from the bedroom, disoriented. "What happened?"
Zara was on her knees, coughing, ears ringing.
"They found us," Adeel muttered, helping her up. "They're not going to wait anymore."
Colonel Faheem entered a moment later, grim and alert, rifle slung over his shoulder.
"I checked the perimeter," he said. "They had one man inside. But he wasn't alone. There were tire tracks outside. Someone dropped him here—and someone else picked him up."
Zara clutched the edge of the table. "He knew me. He said I was here."
Faheem's jaw tightened. "Then they've tapped a source inside our own walls."
He turned to Adeel. "We need to move. Now."
Zara looked out the shattered kitchen window, the journal still clutched in her hand.
The war wasn't coming—it was already here.
And they had just fired the first shot.
The Hidden Map
Morning broke with a sense of urgency.
The broken glass in the kitchen had been swept away, the windows temporarily boarded up, but the unease clung to every corner of the farmhouse like a shadow that refused to lift.
Colonel Faheem stood at the head of the long wooden table, maps, documents, and a digital tablet spread before him. Adeel was pacing near the fireplace, while Ryan and Zara sat close together, their hands intertwined for silent reassurance.
"They came for this," Faheem said, tapping the battered leather journal.
Zara glanced at it. "It belonged to my grandfather, right? But I don't understand. What do they want from it?"
Faheem flipped open the journal to a specific page—one she hadn't noticed before. A crease ran across it, deeper than the others, as if it had been folded once. He carefully unfolded it now, revealing a thin, almost invisible sheet of paper pressed between the pages.
A hand-drawn map.
Zara leaned in. "What is that?"
"It's not just a map," Faheem explained. "It's a cipher. The kind used by intelligence operatives decades ago to hide locations without names. Coordinates, symbols, riddles—it leads somewhere."
Ryan narrowed his eyes. "Somewhere they're desperate to reach first."
Faheem nodded. "This could lead to the evidence your grandfather tried to hide before he died. Maybe a safe deposit. Maybe a hidden archive. But whatever it is, it's enough to make powerful people kill for it."
Zara's heart pounded. "And they think I can decode it."
"You can," Adeel said quietly. "Because your grandfather left the cipher key in your childhood poetry book. The one you used to read every night."
Zara froze. "The blue one? With the silver moon on the cover?"
Adeel gave a small nod. "It was always more than a bedtime story. Your grandfather hid secrets in plain sight."
Ryan stood up. "Then we need that book. Where is it?"
Zara swallowed. "Lahore. In my old room. I never threw it away."
A heavy silence settled.
Faheem looked at them all. "Then we go back. Quietly. Today."
Zara felt a chill run down her spine. Lahore—her home, her history, her unfinished war.
"I left that place to survive," she whispered. "Now I'm going back to finish what started."
Adeel gently touched the edge of the map. "Then let's finish it. Together."
Outside, the sky was already turning gray. A storm was coming.
And this time, they would meet it head-on.
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(To be Continue...)