- What if the world told you 'men never change'. Would you still believe in redemption?
- What if your whole life is shrouded in secrecy. Would you shed your mask for one person anyway?
- What if an avatar intrigued you. Could you fall in love with...
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Zain
"Damn it." Bashir, Senior Inspector with Rangers, threw down his protective vest in frustration. "Another dead end."
"Our intel was solid. I spoke to our informant myself," Raza, Assistant Superintendent with the Crime Investigation Division gazed at the remaining five of us.
"Then why did we just walk into an empty apartment?" Haseeb, Inspector with Rangers, the same rank as me, shot him an agitated look.
"How the hell am I supposed to know," Raza retorted. The three flung accusations at each other, while others tried in vain to placate them.
Though there was a good reason for their flaring tempers.
A month had passed since we had been on the road, quietly following the alleged shipment of drugs across various cities of Sindh but were nowhere close to finding the masterminds behind the elusive smuggling ring despite successfully recruiting an informant from among the smugglers.
This team, made up of members of both the Police CID and Rangers, was supposed to bring complementary skills to the table. The CID with their training in criminal profiling and in-depth investigations, and the Rangers with their tactical expertise and field operations, should have formed a unique collaboration aimed at tackling cases that straddled the worlds of organized crime and street-level operations.
Yet, one look at that room would tell you that failures of the past month had led to disarray and distrust.
"Enough!" Aqil, the most seasoned detective with CID, barked, his authoritative tone cutting through the tension in the room. The others fell silent, casting glances at each other. Aqil continued, "Bashir, Raza, Haseeb, blaming each other won't get us anywhere. We've got to work together and reevaluate our approach. Or else we might as well just head home now."
The cramped room in a building along the outskirts of Sukkur served as a temporary headquarters for the team. Its walls were adorned with maps, evidence boards, and strings connecting various locations. As the heated discussion simmered down, we gathered around a table strewn with files and reports.
"Let's review the intel, retrace our steps, and see if we missed something." Aqil spoke.
"How about we start with the informant? What do we know about him?" I asked. The man had been recruited just two weeks ago.
The lone female in our team placed a folder on the table. In a field dominated by men, Superintendent Fiza, her official title at CID, had proven to be one of the most adept detectives I had ever collaborated with. She usually stayed reserved and didn't speak much, but when she did, everyone paid attention, and she had the unwavering trust of those around her.
"It's all in there. Azmat is in his mid-twenties. Has been working with this group for about a year as far as we can tell, though his older brother worked with them for almost five years till he died."
