SURPRISE…SURPRISE

“Agent 1, I need all the information about the suitcase from Gaitonde’s lawyer, and if it’s not possible to get the information, then bring him to me. I need to end this at once,” Rakesh had ordered earlier, his voice steady but filled with an underlying menace.

“Yeah, Boss,” Agent 1 had replied, already moving out of the room.

The moment Agent 1 left, Rakesh and Agent 3 began conversing, speculating about the people behind the entire mess they had been sucked into. Rakesh, always the more reserved of the two, finally broke the silence. “The responsible party for all this is already dead. Gaitonde is gone. But that doesn’t mean the story ends here.”

Agent 3 raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with skepticism. “Oh, and what about your dad? Is he alive?”

Rakesh hesitated for a brief moment, and then his face darkened. “He was a suicide bomber. Now I have to digest this fact. If I’d known he had a mission that day, I would never have been with him.” The weight of those words hung in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating any lightness in the room.

Agent 3, sensing the intensity of the conversation, tried to lighten the mood. “That’s really sad to hear, Rakesh. Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you something I’ve been thinking about for the last few days.”

Rakesh, in a state of uncertainty, glanced at him. “Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

But just as Agent 3 began to open his mouth, the phone rang, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Rakesh picked up the phone, and the voice on the other end sounded urgent. “Sir, he’s not listening to me. I’m bringing him to you.”

“Bring that bastard here,” Rakesh snapped, his tone firm as the conversation ended abruptly.

Agent 3, looking uneasy, mumbled, “So, where were we?” His hands nervously tapped on the desk as he stood to leave, excusing himself. “I’ll be back.”

It didn’t take long for Agent 1 to return, his expression grim as he led a man into the room. The man, dressed in an immaculate suit, exuded an air of confidence—Wilasrao Kanere, the lawyer who had been handling all of Gaitonde’s cases for the past year. To Agent 1 and Agent 3’s surprise, however, he wasn’t just any lawyer. He was someone far more dangerous.

As soon as Wilasrao stepped inside the room, Rakesh, without hesitation, stood up and embraced the man in a tight hug. “So, ladies and gentlemen, meet Mr. Wilasrao Kanere… aka Mr. Kailas Gaitonde… aka my DAD,” Rakesh announced, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

The shock was palpable. Both agents exchanged confused and disbelieving glances. “You are kidding us, right?” Agent 3 blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper.

But Rakesh’s grin only widened. “You know what? You two are just too innocent. You fought for me! For me, the guy who never told you what I was really up to. For me, who had everything pre-planned!” His eyes gleamed with a dangerous excitement. “Goodbye, duffers.” He then pulled out a gun, pointing it toward both of them.

Wilasrao, now standing beside his son, shook his head, an almost amused expression on his face. “Son, why are you killing them? First, clear their doubts. How am I alive? How did I survive the blast? I think you should explain to them the whole plan.”

Rakesh’s face softened for a moment, as if he were about to explain a complex theory, but then he looked at the agents. His words came out slow, methodical, as if he had rehearsed them many times before. “Okay, Dad. So listen up, losers. I know the questions that are running through your minds. Let me clarify one thing. Why did my own uncle want me dead?”

He paused for effect, allowing the agents to absorb his words. “He wanted me dead because he didn’t need any share in the property. My father and I wanted him dead because, according to my grandfather’s will, the property was to be given to the elder son. And who was the elder son? My dad.” Rakesh’s voice was filled with bitter resentment. “My dad had taken care of my grandparents even though he was adopted. What did he get in return? Nothing. This wasn’t fair. All the sacrifices, all the efforts, only for my uncle to receive everything. Just because my uncle chose politics, while my dad chose to work with a terrorist organization.”

Agent 1 and Agent 3 stood frozen, their eyes wide in disbelief. This was the truth they had never expected to hear. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” Rakesh continued. “So, we devised a plan.”

He paused again, his eyes scanning the two agents, then continued. “My uncle thought my dad was dead, so he wanted to kill me to prevent me from inheriting anything. But that’s where the plan changed.”

Agent 3, still in shock, stumbled over his words. “But… but what about the 18 years?”

Rakesh nodded. “According to our law, the property papers are only signed after you turn 18.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “And now, here we are.”

It was then that the truth hit the agents with full force. Wilasrao Kanere was none other than Rakesh’s father—the very man they thought was dead. Kailas Gaitonde, the infamous criminal who had eluded authorities for years, had somehow survived the explosion that supposedly took his life. After the blast, Gaitonde had undergone plastic surgery to reconstruct his face, securing a new identity and continuing to orchestrate his criminal plans. But this wasn’t just about property. This was much bigger.

“Dad,” Rakesh said with a grin, “hand me the suitcase, please.”

Wilasrao handed him a large, nondescript suitcase, and Rakesh opened it. The agents’ eyes widened as they saw what was inside—documents, pages upon pages of highly classified information.

“What are those?” Agent 1 asked, his voice trembling.

“Every single military and defense contract, all the nuclear weapon data we own,” Rakesh explained, his voice steady now, almost gloating. “After selling these, we’ll be billionaires. You both work for money, right? Will you be my partners in this mission? Ten crores each for this mission. You’ll get a place to live too. Think about it. Let me know right now.”

Agent 3’s face hardened. “Now, the struggle is not for money—it’s for justice. Don’t you ever think we’ll be part of this sick plan. We never imagined that you’d be this evil.”

Rakesh’s eyes narrowed, and the tension in the room escalated. Both agents felt the weight of the situation—trapped in a room with a criminal mastermind who they had once considered a friend. Their minds raced, trying to come up with an escape plan, but Rakesh’s next words stopped them cold.

Just then, the sound of police sirens filled the air, echoing through the street outside.

Rakesh froze, his eyes darting toward the door. He wasn’t expecting this.

Agent 3, without hesitation, spoke up. “Rakesh, you know what I wanted to tell you? The thing I’ve kept in my heart but never said? From the first day, I didn’t trust you. I gave you the gun with a tracker so I could keep tabs on you. I was about to apologize to you when your father arrived, but now—now, there’s no chance.” He grinned, revealing a trace of satisfaction. “The gun in your hand doesn’t only have a tracker, but it’s also equipped with an extremely sensitive sensor. I’ve initiated the self-destruct mode. If you even try to pull the trigger or leave the gun behind, all of us will be turned to ashes, right now.”

Rakesh’s face turned pale as the truth of Agent 3’s words sank in. His grip on the gun faltered, and he looked at the device in his hand with dread.

Agent 1, looking equally stunned, whispered, “That was too smooth, Agent 3.”

Agent 3 smiled, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Well, this is the first time I’ve met an enemy who can match my level. We’ll see you soon, Hacker boy. And as for you, sweetheart—better not come looking for me.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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