Swati Trivedi
1
The monsoon season had arrived in Shillong with an intensity that was both beautiful and foreboding. The clouds rolled over the hills like dark, heavy blankets, casting a shroud of mist that clung to everything. The town, famous for its relentless rains, seemed to hold its breath as the first wave of the downpour washed over the region. A body was found in one of the remote villages on the outskirts of the city, nestled deep in the mountains where few dared to go. Local authorities initially thought it was a landslide victim, a common occurrence during the heavy rains, but something about the discovery didn’t sit right. The body of Dr. Preeti Sharma, a renowned environmental scientist, was found in an area that had been under strict monitoring for environmental research. Her death, ruled as an accident at first, had soon begun to raise unsettling questions.
Detective Rohen Singh was called in to investigate, his rugged frame cutting a sharp contrast against the misty backdrop of the hills. Rohen had spent most of his life in Shillong, navigating the treacherous terrain and understanding the nuances of the land and its people. He was no stranger to death in the hills, but the circumstances surrounding Dr. Sharma’s death felt different. When Rohen arrived at the scene, the rain had slowed, but the ground was still soft and treacherous. The body lay at the edge of a small, forgotten trail that wound its way through thick undergrowth, almost as if it had been placed there. Dr. Preeti was a woman known for her work in environmental sciences, specifically on the effects of climate change on the region’s fragile ecosystems. Her research had made waves in scientific circles, and her findings were not just academic—they had real-world implications. But now, her research had come to an abrupt halt, and Rohen couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her death than met the eye.
As he examined the body, Rohen’s trained eyes noticed the subtle signs that told a different story. A deep bruise on Dr. Preeti’s neck that wasn’t consistent with a landslide, a faint scent of something foreign that lingered in the air—nothing about this felt like a natural death. The path leading to the body was unusually clean, as though someone had deliberately cleared the way, and the position of the body seemed staged. Rohen’s suspicions deepened as he considered what he knew about the victim. Dr. Preeti had been actively researching illegal mining activities in the region, a subject that had caused considerable controversy. She had received threats from powerful entities in the past, but she had refused to back down, determined to protect the environment she held dear. It was clear now that her work had put her in the crosshairs of forces far more dangerous than anyone had imagined.
Rohen’s mind raced as he realized that this was no ordinary murder. The atmosphere in Shillong had changed, the rain no longer a welcome sight but a harbinger of something dark lurking beneath the surface. There were forces at play that sought to keep certain truths hidden, and Dr. Preeti’s death was just the beginning. As the mist thickened around him, Rohen knew he had to dig deeper. He would have to uncover the layers of lies and deception that were smothering the truth, no matter how murky the path became. The hills, though beautiful, were also deadly—both in their terrain and the secrets they kept.
The rain had intensified overnight, drenching Shillong in a steady downpour that seemed to be washing the town clean, even as it concealed the growing darkness beneath. Rohen stood at the edge of Dr. Preeti Sharma’s research center, a small but well-established facility dedicated to the study of environmental sustainability in the region. The building itself was unassuming, nestled against the backdrop of dense trees and rocky hills, its windows fogged from the constant humidity. Rohen had seen the place before but had never thought he would return under such grim circumstances. Today, the place felt strangely quiet, almost as if the walls themselves were hiding something. The director of the research center, Dr. Anil Chatterjee, a man in his fifties with a perpetually tired look in his eyes, greeted Rohen at the door. There was no pretense of pleasantries—he seemed to already know why the detective was there.
“Detective Singh,” Dr. Chatterjee said, his voice low. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I knew Preeti well. She was… relentless in her work. But she didn’t deserve this. None of us did.” He led Rohen into a dimly lit office, where stacks of papers, maps, and scientific journals covered the desk. A half-finished mug of coffee sat on one side, untouched, as if Dr. Chatterjee had been lost in thought for hours. “What can I tell you about her work, Detective? What do you need to know?”
Rohen didn’t hesitate. “Dr. Sharma had been researching illegal mining activities in this region. The rumors about it were all over town. You must have known about them.” Dr. Chatterjee nodded slowly, his eyes darkening. He didn’t need to speak to confirm the suspicion in Rohen’s words. He knew exactly what Preeti had uncovered, and why it had made her dangerous. She had been documenting the corporation’s illegal plans to exploit the land in Meghalaya for its rare minerals—an operation that would ravage the environment beyond repair. Preeti had been ready to go public with her findings, but she had never shared the full extent of her research with anyone. It was clear now that this knowledge had made her a target.
“She was close to something, Rohen,” Dr. Chatterjee continued, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know the specifics, but I knew she had uncovered some pretty damning evidence. She didn’t tell me exactly what she had, but she’d been working with some documents, government papers. I think she was planning to meet with some journalists soon, too. She mentioned it briefly before…” He trailed off, and the silence in the room hung heavily.
Rohen’s instincts kicked in. There was more. “Do you have access to her files? Any of her research notes or those documents she was working on?”
Dr. Chatterjee hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room as if the walls might be listening. Then, reluctantly, he pulled open a drawer and handed Rohen a set of folders. The papers inside were covered in Preeti’s meticulous handwriting—scientific data, notes on her field research, and something that stood out: a series of confidential government documents, many stamped with red “Classified” markings. Rohen flipped through the files quickly, his mind racing as he absorbed the weight of the evidence. Preeti had uncovered a scandal of monumental proportions, one that involved not just the corporation, but key players in the local government and even some so-called environmentalists who had been bribed to stay silent.
“I’m not sure how far she had gotten with this, but she was getting closer, Rohen,” Dr. Chatterjee said, his voice tight. “Whatever she found, it was enough to threaten a lot of people.” He paused, his gaze distant. “I warned her once. I told her that she might be pushing too hard, that the people she was going up against… they wouldn’t hesitate to stop her if she got too close to the truth.”
Rohen closed the folder, feeling the weight of the information in his hands. The conspiracy was deeper than he had imagined, and it was clear that Dr. Preeti Sharma had been a key player in uncovering it. Her death wasn’t an accident—it was a message. But to whom? And why now?
As Rohen prepared to leave, Dr. Chatterjee handed him a small, weathered notebook. “She kept this with her, I think,” he said. “It’s personal, but you might find something in it. Something that could help you understand what she was up against.” Rohen nodded, tucking the notebook into his coat pocket. With the evidence now in hand, he had a clear direction. The storm was far from over, and the truth, buried beneath layers of deceit and corruption, would require him to navigate the dangerous currents of power and greed to reach it.
The rain poured harder outside, but Rohen couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkest part of the storm had only just begun.
The downpour showed no signs of letting up, as if the very sky was mourning the loss of Dr. Preeti Sharma. The streets of Shillong, usually alive with the sounds of bustling markets and local chatter, were eerily quiet. The mist, thick as smoke, curled around every corner, swallowing the hills and casting a shadow of secrecy over the town. Rohen Singh sat in his car, the windshield wipers moving in a rhythmic dance against the relentless rain, while his mind processed the weight of what he had just uncovered. Dr. Preeti’s research was more dangerous than he had anticipated, and the conspiracy was far-reaching, involving not only the multinational corporation but also local officials and environmentalists who had sold their integrity for a price. Rohen needed answers, and the key to unlocking the mystery lay in the tangled web of politics, money, and environmental exploitation.
Rohen’s first stop was to meet Arjun Rai, a local journalist who had been reporting on environmental issues in Meghalaya for years. Arjun had a reputation for digging into stories that others wouldn’t touch, often rubbing elbows with people who preferred to stay in the shadows. His passion for uncovering the truth was undeniable, and though his methods were sometimes questionable, Rohen had always respected his drive. Arjun was sitting in a small, dimly lit café, his laptop open in front of him, a steaming cup of tea sitting untouched beside it. As Rohen entered, Arjun looked up with a knowing smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Detective Singh,” Arjun said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “I was wondering when you’d show up. You’re digging into Preeti’s death, aren’t you?” Rohen didn’t answer directly, instead taking a seat across from Arjun. The journalist wasted no time, diving straight into the conversation. “I’ve been doing my own digging. I knew Preeti was onto something big, but I didn’t know just how deep it went. I’ve heard whispers—rumors of a mining operation being set up in the hills, something that’s supposed to remain quiet. Preeti was getting close to exposing it, and now… well, now she’s dead.”
Rohen listened intently as Arjun described the situation. According to the journalist, a multinational corporation had been quietly working with local officials to secure mining rights to some of the most pristine land in Meghalaya. The land was rich in rare minerals, and the corporation had planned to exploit it for profit, regardless of the environmental damage it would cause. Preeti had been researching the long-term effects of mining on the region’s fragile ecosystem, and her findings had started to ruffle feathers in the highest echelons of both the government and the corporate world. “She wasn’t just talking about the trees and rivers,” Arjun continued, “she was talking about people—the tribes who live in these hills, whose way of life depends on the land remaining untouched.”
Rohen’s mind raced. Everything Preeti had uncovered—the corruption, the secret deals, the exploitation—was bigger than he had imagined. As Arjun spoke, Rohen’s attention shifted to a small stack of printed articles beside the journalist’s laptop. One of the headlines caught his eye: “The Land We Lose: Corporations’ Silent Takeover of Meghalaya”. It was a piece Arjun had written a few weeks ago, outlining the emerging threat of corporate land grabs in the region. Arjun had no concrete proof at the time, but Preeti’s research had undoubtedly confirmed his suspicions. This was about more than just illegal mining—it was about erasing entire communities from the land they had lived on for centuries.
“You’re onto something,” Rohen said, his voice firm. “I need everything you’ve got on this. And if you have any contacts in the government or local tribes, now’s the time to use them.” Arjun’s eyes gleamed with the fire of someone who lived for a good story, but there was something more behind his excitement now. This wasn’t just a story anymore. This was personal.
The rain had started to ease, and as Rohen stepped out of the café, he felt the weight of the investigation pressing down on him. The deeper he went, the more it became clear: Dr. Preeti had stumbled upon a vast conspiracy, one that stretched across not only the hills of Meghalaya but also the corridors of power in Delhi and beyond. He knew he needed to move quickly. The multinational corporation would stop at nothing to protect their interests, and the local officials who had sold their souls to the highest bidder would do everything in their power to keep the truth hidden. The storm in the sky was a mere reflection of the storm that was brewing beneath the surface, and Rohen could feel it intensifying with every step he took toward the truth.
He drove through the narrow, winding roads of Shillong, the mist curling around his car like a living thing. As the hills blurred in the distance, he realized that the path ahead was fraught with danger. Preeti’s death was just the beginning. There were more people involved, and the corporation’s reach was far greater than anyone had suspected. Rohen’s investigation was no longer just about solving a murder—it was about stopping a catastrophe before it was too late.
4
The morning after the storm brought an unsettling calm to Shillong. The skies were still heavy with clouds, but the rain had subsided into a gentle drizzle that soaked the hills in an eerie quiet. Rohen Singh woke early, the weight of his growing suspicions pressing on him. The evidence was mounting, but so were the risks. Preeti’s death was no accident; it was a deliberate strike against her to silence her research. The more Rohen learned, the clearer it became that powerful forces were involved—forces that would stop at nothing to protect their interests in the region.
Rohen’s next move was to meet with Maya Lyngdoh, the tribal leader who had long fought to protect the land from exploitation. Maya was a woman of conviction, a force of nature who was revered by her people and feared by those who sought to profit from the hills. Rohen knew she held vital information, not just about Preeti’s research but also about the wider network of corruption that had begun to choke the life out of the land. He had already seen the extent of the damage the corporation was causing, but Maya had a more personal connection to the land—one that gave her insights no one else could provide.
They met at her small, secluded cabin, nestled in the heart of the forest. Maya’s home was a reflection of her life—a simple, rustic space with the smell of wood and earth that made it feel connected to the land itself. Maya opened the door, her face unreadable as she led Rohen inside. Her presence was commanding, and yet there was a quiet strength in her eyes that made it clear she had seen more than her fair share of suffering.
“Detective Singh,” Maya said, her voice steady but laden with an unspoken heaviness. “I’ve been expecting you. You want to know about Preeti, don’t you?” Rohen nodded, though he didn’t need to say anything. Maya knew why he had come.
“She wasn’t just a scientist,” Maya continued, her gaze distant, as if she were looking beyond the walls of her cabin and into the past. “Preeti was a warrior. She came to me many times, seeking information about the mining operations in the hills. I warned her. I told her that these corporations didn’t care about the land or the people. They only wanted to strip everything they could from it and leave it to rot.” Maya’s words were like a bitter truth that hung in the air, and Rohen could hear the anger behind them.
Maya had fought against these forces for years, trying to prevent them from taking over the tribal lands. But with the corporation’s backing, and the complicity of local government officials, she was fighting a losing battle. Still, she had kept track of their movements, documenting every step. Her people knew the land better than anyone, and they had witnessed the subtle signs of encroachment long before the authorities or the media ever took notice. Maya handed Rohen a collection of handwritten notes—maps, observations, and reports on the corporation’s covert operations.
“Preeti knew about this,” Maya said. “She was planning to go public with her findings. I was helping her gather the evidence she needed. But when I heard she was dead, I knew it wasn’t just an accident. They didn’t just kill her to silence her work—they killed her to stop all of us from resisting.”
Rohen’s fingers grazed over the pages, his eyes scanning the detailed notes. The maps highlighted areas where the corporation had started drilling, and there were notes on government officials who had been paid off to look the other way. One name stood out—Ravi Desai, the corporate executive behind the operation. Maya had warned Rohen about him before. Ravi Desai was a man known for his ruthlessness, someone who had no qualms about using force to get what he wanted. The extent of his influence reached deep into the local government, and his company’s ties to politicians made it nearly impossible for anyone to fight back.
As Rohen absorbed the information, his mind raced with new questions. If Preeti had been so close to uncovering the full scope of the conspiracy, why had the corporation chosen to kill her now? What had changed? He knew that he had to act quickly. Preeti’s death wasn’t the end of this—they had only just begun.
The conversation was interrupted by a loud thud on the door, followed by a hurried knock. Maya’s eyes narrowed, and she moved instinctively to the side, signaling Rohen to remain quiet. “It’s them,” she whispered. Rohen instinctively reached for his gun, his senses alert. The air in the cabin was thick with tension, the walls seeming to close in as he listened to the footsteps outside.
“Who’s there?” Maya called, her voice steady, though her hand was clenched around a small axe that hung near the door.
A voice, low and menacing, responded from the other side. “Maya, we need to talk. Open up.”
Rohen could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. This wasn’t just a random visit—this was a threat. Maya wasn’t just a local leader; she was a symbol of resistance, and she had been a thorn in the side of those who sought to profit from the land.
Before Maya could respond, the door burst open. Two men, dressed in dark clothing and carrying weapons, stepped into the cabin. Their cold eyes fixed on Maya, then flicked to Rohen. The air in the room grew heavy, the danger palpable. Maya remained unmoved, her eyes locked on the intruders.
“We’ve been looking for you,” one of the men said, a sneer twisting his lips. “And we’ll find you no matter where you hide. This land will belong to the corporation, one way or another.”
Maya’s face remained unchanged, but Rohen could see the determination in her eyes. She wasn’t afraid. She had faced worse before.
Rohen knew the situation had escalated. The corporation wasn’t just a faceless entity anymore—it was a dangerous beast with claws that reached into every corner of the region. Preeti’s death had ignited something far bigger than a simple murder investigation. The fight for the hills had just begun, and Rohen had already crossed a line. Now, there was no turning back.
The storm had returned, fiercer this time, as if the heavens themselves had decided to conspire against the people of Shillong. The wind howled through the trees, sending sheets of rain sweeping across the town in torrents. Rohen Singh sat in his car, parked on the edge of the town, watching the mist swirl around him. His thoughts were a blur, the weight of his investigation pressing down on him like the storm that raged outside. He had uncovered enough to know that Dr. Preeti Sharma’s death was not just the work of a rogue corporation—it was part of a much larger conspiracy, one that had infiltrated every layer of the local government and even the environmental organizations that were supposed to protect the land. But it wasn’t just the corporation he was up against now. It was the web of betrayal that ran through the very heart of the region.
Arjun Rai had been invaluable in his investigation so far, providing key pieces of the puzzle. But as Rohen had suspected, the deeper they dug, the more dangerous their journey became. Preeti had been close to something monumental before she was silenced, and that something was now a ticking time bomb that threatened to destroy the land and its people. As much as Rohen respected Arjun’s dedication to the truth, he knew the young journalist’s impulsiveness could lead them both into trouble. Yet, as the days wore on, Rohen found himself relying more and more on Arjun’s insights, even though it was clear that the stakes were higher than either of them had anticipated.
The next morning, Rohen met Arjun at the small café where they had first discussed the case. The place was unusually quiet, the storm outside keeping most people indoors. Arjun was already there, his eyes scanning the room nervously as if he was expecting someone. When he saw Rohen enter, he motioned for him to sit down.
“I’ve been getting calls, Rohen,” Arjun said, his voice low. “Threatening calls. They’re trying to scare me off. But I won’t stop. I can’t.” His hands trembled slightly as he pushed a stack of documents across the table. “I got a hold of some classified government files. They’re not just mining the land. They’re planning to build a massive dam upstream, which would flood the entire area, displacing thousands of people—including the tribes that live in the hills. And that’s not all. There’s a politician in Delhi backing the project, someone with connections to the corporation. I’m trying to connect the dots, but it’s all too big, Rohen. Too many people are involved.”
Rohen leaned forward, examining the papers carefully. The documents confirmed what they had suspected—this was no ordinary mining operation. The corporation wasn’t just after minerals; they were planning to destroy the entire region for a hydroelectric project that would reshape the landscape forever. The dam would provide power to the neighboring states, but at the cost of the indigenous communities’ homes, their livelihoods, and the delicate balance of nature. What had begun as a fight over mining rights had now escalated into a battle for survival.
Rohen’s mind raced as he processed the new information. “Who’s behind this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Who’s pulling the strings?”
Arjun looked around nervously, ensuring no one was listening before he leaned in closer. “Ravi Desai,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “He’s the one who’s been orchestrating the entire thing. And it’s not just him. There’s a politician in Delhi—someone high up. I’ve been trying to trace the money, but it’s like trying to follow a ghost. The corporation has enough influence to keep everything under wraps, but if this ever sees the light of day, it’ll destroy their plans. That’s why Preeti had to be silenced. She was the only one who could stop them.”
Rohen’s gut churned with a mixture of anger and frustration. Ravi Desai was a man he had heard about before, a ruthless corporate executive who had made a name for himself by bulldozing through obstacles to achieve his goals. But now it was clear that he was just a pawn in a much larger game. The people pulling the strings were far more dangerous, and they would do anything to keep their plans in motion. Rohen had no doubt that if he got too close to the truth, he would become their next target.
“I need to find Desai,” Rohen said, his voice determined. “And I need to find out who else is involved. We can’t let them get away with this.”
Arjun hesitated. “You know what you’re up against, right? These people don’t play by the rules. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect their interests, and if they have to kill to do it, they will.”
Rohen nodded grimly. “I know. But I can’t stop now. Preeti’s death, the destruction of the land, the betrayal of the people—it all has to be exposed.”
Just as he finished speaking, the door to the café opened, and a man stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. Rohen’s instincts kicked in immediately, and he tensed, recognizing the man as one of Ravi Desai’s associates—a hired gun known for his cold demeanor and quick temper. The man’s gaze briefly flicked over to their table, and Rohen’s heart skipped a beat. This was no coincidence. The corporation was onto them.
Arjun stood up quickly, but Rohen grabbed his arm. “Stay calm. Don’t make any sudden moves.” They both pretended to ignore the man, who took a seat at the bar, ordering a drink in a low, gruff voice. Rohen knew the man wasn’t there by accident. He was watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“We need to move,” Rohen whispered. “Now.”
The two men slipped out of the café, their footsteps silent against the wet ground. They ducked into an alleyway, keeping to the shadows as they made their way through the backstreets. Rohen knew they had to act fast. The clock was ticking, and the corporation wasn’t going to wait around for them to catch up. As they moved deeper into the labyrinth of streets, Rohen’s mind raced. He had been on the edge of uncovering something huge—something that could bring the whole conspiracy crashing down. But he knew that it was only a matter of time before they were caught.
And when that moment came, Rohen had to be ready.
The rain had transformed Shillong into a landscape of treacherous beauty. The hills, usually veiled in mist, were now swallowed by a dense fog that hung heavy in the air, blurring the line between earth and sky. Rohen Singh stood by his window, staring out at the relentless downpour, his mind reeling from the discoveries of the past few days. Preeti Sharma’s death, the corrupt web of local officials and corporate giants, and the impending destruction of the region’s fragile ecosystems—it all seemed to converge into an inevitable confrontation. But with each step he took closer to the truth, the more dangerous his path became. The storm outside was a reflection of the chaos that had gripped his life; a battle was brewing, one that would demand everything from him.
Rohen’s next move was a calculated one. He had to confront Ravi Desai, the man behind the operation. Desai was a shadow in the corporate world, his influence stretching across borders, his power entrenched in both the government and the corporate sector. But Rohen knew that the key to unraveling the conspiracy lay in exposing Desai’s role. The corporation’s dam project was just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath it lay the systematic exploitation of the land and its people, all orchestrated with ruthless precision.
Rohen and Arjun met in the dead of night, their faces grim as they prepared for the next phase of their plan. Maya Lyngdoh had warned them—Desai wasn’t just a businessman; he was a man with a history of using violence to get what he wanted. But they had no choice. Desai’s empire of corruption had to be brought down, and the only way to do that was to strike at the heart of it. The two men, joined by Maya, who had her own reasons for wanting to see Desai fall, decided to infiltrate a private meeting that Desai was hosting with several key politicians and businessmen. It was a risky move, but it was the only chance they had to expose the full extent of the conspiracy.
The meeting was set to take place at a luxury resort on the outskirts of Shillong, a place where the rain never seemed to reach, and the luxury hid the grime of corruption beneath its gleaming surface. As Rohen and Arjun drove through the winding roads, their car cutting through the mist, the tension between them was palpable. They knew this was a one-way mission. If they were discovered, there would be no turning back.
When they arrived, the resort was eerily quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of the rain against the windows. A private security team, well-armed and efficient, patrolled the perimeter, ensuring that no one would get close to the meeting. But Rohen had a plan. They would use the storm as cover, slipping past the guards and into the resort under the guise of storm-chasers—journalists hoping to catch the dramatic intensity of the monsoon season.
As they made their way through the back entrance, Rohen’s thoughts were a whirlwind of strategy and resolve. This wasn’t just a corporate takeover; this was the destruction of a way of life, the exploitation of land that had sustained generations of people. The stakes were higher than he had ever imagined, and as they approached the conference room where Desai and his allies were meeting, Rohen felt the weight of what he was about to do. If they succeeded, they would have the evidence to bring the corporation and its government allies to their knees. If they failed… well, there would be no room for mistakes.
Inside the room, the air was thick with tension. Desai sat at the head of a large table, surrounded by a small group of influential men—politicians, businessmen, and officials from the mining company. They were discussing the final steps of their plan to destroy the land for the dam project. Desai spoke with calm authority, outlining how they would push through the remaining permits and deal with the local opposition. Rohen, Arjun, and Maya hid behind a large partition, listening intently as the conversation unfolded.
“I don’t care what it costs,” Desai’s voice cut through the room. “This land is worth more to us than any of these people. They’ll be gone. The tribes, the activists—they’re all expendable. The government is already on our side. Once the dam is completed, we’ll have the power, the control, and the profit. We won’t have to worry about these pesky environmental concerns anymore. The river will be tamed, and the land will be ours.”
Rohen clenched his fists, his knuckles white. The cold calculation in Desai’s words made it clear that the man would stop at nothing to achieve his goal. People’s lives meant nothing to him—only profit mattered. He wasn’t just after minerals anymore; he was after power, pure and unadulterated. And the tribes, the very people who had lived on this land for centuries, would be nothing but collateral damage in his pursuit of it.
Arjun leaned in, whispering under his breath, “We’ve got the evidence, Rohen. We can end this now.” But Rohen held up a hand, signaling for caution. There was still more to learn, more connections to make. Desai’s plan was far-reaching, and Rohen knew they needed more than just his words to bring him down. They needed hard proof, something that could expose the entire conspiracy in one fell swoop.
But as the meeting continued, something shifted. One of the men at the table, a local politician, looked uneasy. He shifted in his chair, glancing nervously at Desai before clearing his throat. “But… what about the tribes? We’ve promised them compensation, but—”
Desai slammed his fist onto the table, silencing the room. “Don’t talk to me about compensation. They won’t have a choice when they’re displaced. If we move fast enough, we’ll get the permits before they can rally any opposition. The tribes will have no land left to stand on.” His eyes narrowed. “We’ll force them into submission, just like we’ve done before. No more distractions. No more delays.”
Rohen’s heart sank. Desai wasn’t just planning to displace the tribes—he intended to wipe them out entirely, erasing their way of life forever. This was no longer just about land. It was about domination, control, and silencing those who dared to oppose him.
As the conversation dragged on, Rohen motioned for Arjun and Maya to follow him. They couldn’t stay here any longer; they had what they needed. But as they made their way toward the exit, the unthinkable happened. The door to the meeting room creaked open, and a security guard stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. He spotted Rohen and his team, his gaze locking onto them with a cold, calculating look.
“You three—stay right where you are,” the guard growled, his hand moving toward his gun.
The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm that had just erupted inside the resort. Desai’s men had discovered them, and there was no way out. Rohen’s heart pounded in his chest as he turned to face the inevitable confrontation. There was no turning back now. The storm had finally unleashed itself, and the battle for Shillong had begun.
7
The seconds felt like hours. Rohen’s heart raced as the security guard’s eyes locked onto him, the metallic glint of a gun catching the dim light of the room. Arjun and Maya froze, their bodies taut with the same tension that gripped Rohen. The atmosphere shifted from one of stealth to pure danger. The door behind them closed with a finality that echoed in Rohen’s chest. There was no way out now—no quick escape, no safe exit. They had been caught in the act, and Desai’s men weren’t the type to hesitate.
“Move,” Rohen whispered to Arjun, his voice low but firm. “Now.”
He didn’t need to say more. Arjun and Maya, quick on their feet, sprang into action. As the guard’s hand reached for his weapon, Rohen acted first. With a burst of motion, he dove for the guard’s arm, pushing it away just as the gun went off, sending a deafening shot into the ceiling. The noise ricocheted through the room, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch.
Arjun lunged forward and knocked the guard off balance, sending him stumbling back. The gun clattered to the floor, just out of reach. Maya, her instincts sharp and honed from years of survival in the hills, was the first to react. She kicked the gun away with a swift motion, sending it skittering under a nearby table.
“Keep moving!” Maya hissed, her eyes flicking to the door as she motioned for the others to retreat.
Rohen didn’t need another word. The three of them darted out of the meeting room and into the narrow corridor, which was lined with the luxurious décor of the resort, now seeming more like a maze of shadows and danger. They moved quickly, pressing themselves against the walls, listening for footsteps behind them. The storm outside seemed to have intensified, the sound of rain lashing against the windows blending with their quick, shallow breaths. It was a race against time, and they had no idea how far the corporation’s reach extended in this place.
Desai’s men were closing in. The security had already radioed for backup, and Rohen could hear the sounds of distant shouting and heavy footsteps coming their way. They had to get out of there—fast. They rounded a corner and found themselves in a service corridor, empty but lit by flickering lights. Rohen’s mind was in overdrive, trying to map out their escape route, but his gut told him they couldn’t stay here for long. They needed a way to vanish, to disappear before Desai’s forces could track them down.
“Down the hall,” Rohen whispered, his voice tight with urgency. “There’s a side exit.”
The three of them sprinted down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls. Rohen’s mind flicked back to the conversation he had overheard. Desai’s plans were far worse than he’d imagined. The dam project was just the beginning—the corporation had deeper, more insidious plans to completely reshape the region. And now, they knew he was getting too close. They had to stop him before the project moved forward.
As they neared the exit, a loud crash echoed from behind them, followed by more shouting. They were almost there. The door to the side exit loomed ahead, just a few more feet away. Then, just as they reached it, the door swung open from the outside, and two more of Desai’s men appeared in the doorway, guns drawn.
“Don’t move!” one of them shouted.
There was no time to think. Rohen reacted instinctively. He grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher, swinging it hard at the closest man’s head. The impact sent him stumbling back, disoriented. Maya, quick and precise, kicked one of the men in the knee, sending him crumpling to the ground. In the chaos, Rohen shoved the door open, and the three of them rushed outside, into the pouring rain. The storm had turned into a torrential downpour, but it was their only chance.
They ran through the back garden of the resort, ducking under the cover of thick trees and foliage, until they reached a small clearing that led down to a cliffside path. Below, the valley stretched out in the distance, obscured by the mist, but Rohen knew this path well. It would lead them down into the outskirts of Shillong, where they could hide and regroup.
The rain soaked them to the bone, but Rohen barely noticed. His mind was focused on one thing only—getting them to safety. The sound of pursuit was distant, but they couldn’t afford to slow down. They needed to disappear before Desai’s men could track them.
As they made their way down the winding path, Arjun, breathless but determined, caught up to Rohen. “We can’t let them get away with this. We have the evidence. We can expose them—”
Rohen stopped abruptly, holding up a hand to silence Arjun. There was something in the air, a shift in the sound of the rain. Rohen’s instincts screamed at him to stop, to listen. He turned his head, eyes scanning the shadows through the downpour. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“Maya… Arjun… something’s wrong,” Rohen muttered.
Before he could react further, there was a sudden movement in the trees ahead, and a group of figures stepped out of the mist—armed, silent, and closing in fast. Desai’s men had found them. It was a trap.
Rohen cursed under his breath. He had led them into the open. There was no way to outrun them now. The mist swirled around them like an impenetrable wall, and the sound of footsteps closing in grew louder. They were surrounded.
“Stay close,” Rohen ordered, his voice calm despite the panic rising within him. He had to think fast. He knew this path well, but they were outnumbered, and the advantage of surprise was no longer theirs. But there was one more card they could play.
Rohen’s eyes flicked to the side, where the cliff path twisted into the dense jungle. A decision formed in his mind, sharp and clear. “We split up,” he said quickly. “Arjun, take the left path. Maya, come with me. We’ll meet at the old mill by the river. Go!”
With no time for hesitation, the three of them separated, each running in a different direction, disappearing into the rain-soaked night. Rohen’s heart pounded as he sprinted through the jungle, the sounds of pursuit echoing behind him. He had to get to the mill, to the one place he could still make a stand. It wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. The storm had only just begun to break.
The rain was relentless. It lashed at Rohen’s face as he ran, blurring his vision and making the jungle path treacherous beneath his feet. The faint sound of footsteps behind him sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins, but he pushed forward, refusing to look back. He had to make it to the mill—an old, abandoned structure near the river that had been there for generations. It was his only chance to regroup, to formulate a plan.
The path grew narrower as he moved deeper into the forest, the thick canopy above doing little to shield him from the downpour. He could hear the distant rush of the river now, the roar of the water mingling with the sound of his own heartbeat. His mind raced as he ran, piecing together what he had overheard in Desai’s meeting. The corporation wasn’t just about controlling the land—they were erasing the people who had lived here for centuries. The dam project, the mining, the illegal deals—all of it was a deliberate attempt to wipe out a culture, a way of life that had been here long before any corporate tycoon had set foot in these hills.
His breath came in ragged gasps, and he could feel the weight of the evidence in his jacket—Preeti’s files, Arjun’s documents, Maya’s notes. All of it could bring Desai down, but only if he could get the information to the right people. Only if he could stay alive long enough to do it.
He reached the riverbank just as the path began to widen, the sound of the rushing water growing louder. The old mill was just ahead, its weathered structure looming like a ghost in the storm. It had been abandoned for years, but Rohen knew it well—he had spent many nights here as a child, listening to the river’s roar and watching the mist curl around the mill’s stone foundation. The place was isolated, far enough from the resort that Desai’s men might not think to search it immediately.
As he neared the mill, Rohen glanced behind him, his pulse quickening. He could hear the pursuit now, the crack of twigs underfoot growing louder, closer. His time was running out. He sprinted the last few feet to the mill’s entrance, pushing the heavy door open with a groan. Inside, the air was damp and musty, the walls lined with old, rusted machinery that had long since fallen into disrepair.
Rohen paused, listening for any sign of movement outside. The sounds of the jungle were muffled here, but he could still hear the rain and the river’s relentless rush. He took a moment to catch his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He had made it—but only just.
Maya and Arjun were supposed to meet him here, but he had no way of knowing if they had made it out. They had split up in the chaos, and with Desai’s men hunting them, the odds were slim. But he couldn’t afford to waste time worrying about them now. He had to stay focused. The evidence he carried—Preeti’s files—was the key to taking down Desai and his operation.
Rohen moved deeper into the mill, placing the documents on a dusty table. He pulled out his phone, hoping for a signal, but the screen remained blank. No reception. It was just as well—if anyone tracked him here, they would be looking for a phone signal.
As Rohen spread out the papers, the weight of their importance pressed down on him. The evidence was damning—notes on bribed officials, secret contracts, maps of the proposed dam site, and most importantly, a set of photographs of the land before the corporation’s intervention. It was enough to expose everything, but he couldn’t do it alone. He needed a way to get the information to the authorities. He needed Arjun and Maya.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke his concentration. Rohen froze, his heart stopping for a moment. The door to the mill creaked open, and a figure stepped inside, silhouetted against the storm.
Rohen’s hand instinctively went to his gun, but then the figure spoke. “It’s me. Maya.”
Relief washed over him, and he lowered the gun, though his instincts remained sharp. Maya stepped into the dim light, drenched but unharmed. Her eyes were sharp, her movements precise. She had made it.
“Maya,” Rohen said, his voice low. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”
She nodded, wiping the rain from her face. “I barely did. Desai’s men are everywhere. But I lost them. We need to move fast, Rohen. Arjun—he didn’t make it.”
Rohen’s stomach tightened at her words. “What do you mean he didn’t make it?”
Maya’s expression darkened. “They caught him. I saw them dragging him into the forest, but I couldn’t risk going back for him. They’re taking him to the resort—probably trying to get information out of him. We don’t have much time.”
Rohen’s fists clenched in fury. Arjun had been with him from the beginning, helping him uncover the truth, and now he was in Desai’s hands. If they didn’t act fast, Arjun might not make it out alive. The stakes had just become personal.
“Do you have the documents?” Maya asked, her voice urgent.
Rohen nodded, pulling the files from the table and handing them to her. “We need to get these to the authorities. We have proof of everything—the bribery, the land deals, the destruction of the tribes’ homes. This could bring down Desai and his entire operation.”
Maya took the documents and glanced over them quickly. “This is good, Rohen. But we don’t have a clear path to get them out without being caught. We need to get to a safe location first, somewhere Desai’s men won’t find us.”
Rohen’s mind was already racing. The road ahead was dangerous, but he couldn’t let Arjun’s capture be in vain. They had to move now. There was no time to waste.
“I know a place,” Rohen said, his voice tight with resolve. “It’s an old police station, abandoned but still standing. It’s out of the way, deep in the forest. If we can make it there, we can contact the right people.”
Maya nodded, her eyes narrowing in determination. “Then let’s move. But we can’t take the main path. We’ll have to go through the forest and cross the river. It’ll be dangerous, but we don’t have a choice.”
Rohen turned and began to gather his things. “We move now. And we don’t stop until we’re safe.”
The storm raged outside, but inside the old mill, a new storm was brewing. The fight to expose Desai was far from over—and now, with Arjun’s life on the line, Rohen would stop at nothing to finish what they had started.
