14. Clean Up

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The subdued attackers were swiftly dragged into the staff quarters, a secluded area dimly lit and shadowed by years of neglect—a perfect spot for holding their captives without drawing attention. The officers had chosen this location deliberately, knowing the chaos of the operation required a fallback space for contingencies. The attackers' faces were covered with cloths, muffling their curses and groans. Their hands and legs were tightly bound, leaving no room for escape.

Ananya's sharp gaze swept over the scene, her mind already racing with the next steps. "Keep them restrained," she ordered, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "We can't afford any mistakes now."

Rakshith and Bhavin exchanged nods before taking positions by the door, weapons ready, their senses heightened. Shika and Nithin began inspecting the subdued men for concealed weapons or clues about their motives. Meanwhile, Vikram crouched near the attackers, scanning their expressions for any sign of defiance or fear.

Ananya stepped away from the group and raised the encrypted communication device to her lips. The familiar static of the secure line crackled before Mr. Kulkarni's composed voice came through.

"Sir, the operation is a success," Ananya reported, her tone clipped but professional. "The coach has been safely escorted to the van. The attackers are in our custody."

There was a pause on the other end before Kulkarni replied, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Good work, Ananya. Now listen carefully. Ensure the handover to the local police is executed without drawing attention. The integrity of your cover is paramount. We need to stay invisible. Your team remains on high alert until we extract a confession from these men. Is that clear?"

"Understood, sir," Ananya said, her resolve firm as she disconnected.

She turned back to her team, her expression grim. "Kulkarni sir wants us to stay alert until we get confessions from these guys. No one drops their guard."

"What's the plan for the handover?" Vikram asked, his voice low but urgent.

"We'll use the service elevator to move them out," Rakshith explained. "Shika, Nithin, and Bhavin will cover the route to the loading dock. Ananya and Vikram, you're with me. We'll oversee the transfer."

The team nodded in unison, their trust in each other unshaken.

As the minutes ticked by, the officers executed their plan with precision. Shika led the way, her keen eyes scanning for any movement in the hotel's dimly lit back corridors. Nithin and Bhavin followed closely, dragging the attackers behind them, their movements calculated to avoid creating any noise that might draw attention.

Rakshith and Vikram brought up the rear, their senses attuned to every creak and shadow. Ananya walked alongside them, her mind a mix of calculated focus and unyielding determination.

The loading dock was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the distant hum of traffic outside. A nondescript van waited in the shadows, its engine idling softly. Two plainclothes officers from the local police stood by, their faces obscured by caps pulled low.

"Transfer them quickly," Vikram instructed. "And remember, this never happened. No records, no slips."

The local officers nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. One by one, the subdued attackers were loaded into the van. The process was seamless, the shadows and silence acting as their allies.

As the van pulled away, Ananya exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her team regrouped in the staff quarters, their energy drained but their vigilance unbroken.

"Handover is done," Rakshith said, breaking the silence. "What's next?"

Ananya tapped her communication device, reopening the line to Kulkarni. "Sir, the attackers have been handed over to the local police. The transfer was executed without incident. We're holding position at the hotel."

Kulkarni's voice came through, calm but layered with caution. "Good. But until we get concrete information from their interrogation, consider yourselves still on the clock. Stay in position and blend in. If there is any sign of trouble, you alert me immediately."

"Yes, sir," Ananya replied before disconnecting.

She turned to her team, her expression softening slightly. "Kulkarni sir wants us to stay put until the attackers talk. That means we're still in the game. Everyone, keep your covers tight and stay vigilant."

Shika leaned against the wall, her face betraying her fatigue. "What about the cricket team? They'll start asking questions soon."

"We'll handle it," Ananya said, her tone resolute. "Right now, let's make sure no one suspects a thing. We have to clean every mark, no one should suspect a thing."

The team dispersed, their movements fluid and purposeful.

Inside the hotel, the power had been restored, casting warm light over the lobby and corridors as guests began to relax and return to their routines. The tension that had gripped the air earlier started to dissipate, replaced by the hum of normalcy. However, for the officers, their mission was far from over.

Rakshith, with his usual commanding presence, stepped forward to address the staff. His demeanor was calm yet firm, exuding the kind of authority that ensured compliance without inciting panic.

"Listen carefully," he said to the hotel manager, whose face was pale and drawn from the night's chaotic events. "Announce to the guests that there was a minor electrical fault that caused the outage. Assure them that everything has been resolved. No unnecessary details."

The manager, still visibly shaken, stammered, "O-of course, sir. I'll handle it immediately." Without waiting for further instructions, he hurried off toward the reception desk to make the announcement.

Rakshith glanced at Vikram, who was already coordinating with the rest of the team. "Vikram, oversee the cleanup. I'll make sure the guests don't start poking around."

"On it," Vikram replied, his sharp gaze sweeping over the now-lit hallways.

Shika and Nithin were stationed in the security control room, their eyes glued to the surveillance screens. They worked with precision, erasing every piece of incriminating footage from the night's attack.

"Focus on the key areas," Shika instructed, her fingers deftly navigating through the footage logs. "We can't afford any gaps in the timeline. Replace anything that looks suspicious with neutral footage."

"Already ahead of you," Nithin muttered, his attention fixed on the screen. He isolated and deleted sequences showing the attackers entering the hotel and the brief but intense skirmish that followed.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Nithin leaned back in his chair, exhaling a deep breath. "All clear here. I've looped the backup feed to show nothing out of the ordinary."

Shika double-checked the footage, her sharp eyes scanning for any missed details. Satisfied, she nodded. "Good work. Let's keep it that way. Make sure the live feed is functional again—we don't want anyone questioning why the cameras are offline."

Meanwhile, Ananya worked alongside Bhavin in erasing any physical traces of the attack. They moved through the hallways and lobby, replacing broken furniture, patching up scuff marks, and meticulously wiping away the faint bloodstains left behind.

"Careful with that," Bhavin murmured as they lifted a shattered side table into a supply closet. "We can't leave even a scratch for someone to notice."

"Don't worry," Ananya replied, her tone steady despite the exhaustion etched across her face. "Every detail counts. We'll make this place look as pristine as it did this morning."

In the dining area, Rakshith blended effortlessly among the guests, his sharp eyes taking note of any signs of suspicion. The players were gathered at a table, chatting casually about the blackout. Shaurya, however, kept glancing toward the entrance, his brows furrowed slightly.

Ananya entered moments later, her expression composed, though her heart raced as she felt Shaurya's gaze land on her. Ignoring his questioning look, she walked over to Rakshith.

"Everything's almost done," she whispered. "The staff is cooperative, and the manager's made the announcement. No one suspects a thing."

"Good," Rakshith replied, his voice low and firm. "But keep an eye on the guests. If anyone starts asking too many questions, we redirect them."

"Ananya," Shaurya walked to her, his face morphed with worry.

"Shaurya, are you alright?" She asked, worry laced in her tone as she checked him for any traces of injuries.

"Ananya," Vikram called out, his tone laced with urgency.

"Shaurya, I'll be back," She didn't give him a chance to argue as she made her way towards Vikram, leaving Shaurya worried and confused.

As the officers regrouped in Vikram's room to review their work, Vikram took the lead. "Let's recap. Shika, Nithin, what's the status on the surveillance footage?"

"Completely clean," Shika replied confidently. "We've erased every second of incriminating footage and replaced it with neutral feeds. The cameras are live again."

"Good. Ananya, Bhavin, how's the cleanup?"

"Done," Bhavin said. "The bloodstains are gone, and the broken furniture is stashed away. It's like nothing ever happened."

"Then we stick to Kulkarni sir's orders," Vikram said, his voice sharp with focus. "We maintain our cover and stay alert until those attackers confess. No one relaxes until we're officially cleared."

As the team dispersed, each officer resumed their respective roles, their movements calculated to avoid drawing attention. The hotel had returned to its usual state of luxury and calm, but for the officers, the night's events had etched themselves deeply into their minds.

Ananya and Vikram lingered in the room, reviewing their encrypted communication devices for updates from Kulkarni.

"Do you think they'll talk?" Ananya asked softly, her voice betraying a hint of fatigue.

"They will," Vikram replied with quiet certainty. "People like them always do when the right pressure is applied. Until then, we wait."

"And what if someone on the team starts connecting the dots?"

Vikram's gaze met hers, his expression unreadable. "Then we make sure they don't. It's what we signed up for, Ananya. No one can know who we really are."

Ananya nodded, her resolve hardening once more. Together, they stepped out into the hotel's brightly lit corridors, their expressions calm and their movements unremarkable. To the world, they were just reporters who were here to cover the lives of cricketers. But beneath the surface, the team's vigilance remained unbroken, every action a testament to their unyielding dedication to the mission.

The dining hall buzzed with chatter as the players unwound after a tense day. The blackout was a hot topic, with theories ranging from faulty wiring to overused generators. Amid the noise, Shaurya sat silently, his usually calm demeanor replaced by visible unease. His eyes darted toward the entrance every few seconds, searching for a familiar face.

He wasn't paying attention to his friends' banter as worry gnawed at him. Where was Ananya? She had been by his side earlier, a calming presence amid the chaos, and now she was nowhere to be seen. Every minute that passed only heightened his anxiety.

When the doors finally swung open and Ananya walked in, relief flooded through him. He rose from his seat almost instinctively, his steps quickening as he approached her. The sight of her safe and sound steadied his racing heart, though the tension in his eyes lingered.

"You disappeared," he said softly, his voice laced with concern rather than accusation. "Where were you?"

Ananya paused, caught off guard by the depth of emotion in his tone. She plastered on a smile, aiming for nonchalance. "Just helping Vikram with the medicines we ordered for Shika. Sorry to keep you waiting,"

Shaurya's gaze didn't waver. He studied her carefully—the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, the slight tremor in her hands. She looked fine on the surface, but something about her posture told him otherwise.

"You've been running around all day," he said gently, stepping closer. "You don't have to take everything on yourself, you know."

Her smile faltered for a split second before she regained her composure. "Someone has to," she quipped lightly, hoping to ease his worry.

Shaurya wasn't convinced. "Ananya," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "you don't always have to be the one holding things together. You can let someone else step in."

Her heart ached at the concern in his words, but she couldn't afford to let her guard down—not now. "I'm fine, Shaurya. Really."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You say that, but you look like you're about to collapse. Have you even eaten?"

"I'll grab something soon," she assured him, trying to sidestep his scrutiny.

"Now," he insisted, guiding her toward an empty table. His usual playfulness was replaced by a quiet determination. "Sit. I'll get you a plate."

Before she could protest, Shaurya was already at the buffet, piling food onto a plate. Ananya watched him, a mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in her chest. She hadn't expected him to notice her absence so keenly, let alone care so much.

When he returned, he placed the plate in front of her and sat down, his eyes never leaving hers. "Eat," he urged softly.

Ananya picked up her fork, feeling oddly comforted by his presence. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Don't thank me," he replied, his tone gentler now. "Just... don't scare me like that again. I didn't know where you were, and with everything going on...and then you again ran away..."

He trailed off, the words unsaid hanging heavily in the air. Ananya swallowed hard, the weight of her secret pressing down on her. She wanted to tell him, to explain everything, but she couldn't. Not yet.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, her voice tinged with sincerity.

Shaurya reached across the table, his hand brushing hers for a fleeting moment. "Just take care of yourself too, okay? You're not alone, Ananya. Remember that."

Her chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his concern. She nodded, forcing down the lump in her throat. "I will," she promised, though she wasn't sure if it was a lie or the truth.

As the players' laughter and chatter filled the room once more, Shaurya stayed by her side, his silent support a balm to her restless soul. Though she couldn't reveal the truth to him, his presence reminded her of the strength she carried—not just for herself, but for the mission she couldn't afford to fail.

In the dimly lit safe house on the outskirts of the city, the coach sat in a plain chair, his hands gripping the edges of the seat as if the firmness of the wood could ground him. His face was pale, beads of sweat clinging to his forehead despite the cool air from the overhead fan. The events of the day had unraveled his normally composed demeanor.

The soft creak of the door announced Rakshith and Bhavin's entrance. They stepped in, their presence calm yet commanding. Rakshith was the first to speak, his voice steady and soothing.

"Coach, I understand this has been a long and difficult day," he began, pulling up a chair to sit across from the visibly shaken man. "But you're safe now. We've made sure no harm will come to you."

The coach looked up, his eyes clouded with lingering fear and confusion. "Safe? Is that what you call this? I was almost—" His voice broke, and he leaned back, exhaling shakily. "I still don't even know who you really are. You're not reporters, are you?"

Bhavin, standing by the doorway with his arms crossed, softened his stance and stepped forward. "No, we're not. We're operatives working for the government. Our job is to protect you and ensure no harm comes your way."

The coach's brows furrowed. "If you're protecting me, then why all this secrecy? Why not let the authorities handle it?"

Rakshith exchanged a brief glance with Bhavin before responding. "Because secrecy is the only thing keeping you and the rest of the team safe right now. If the attackers or their allies find out we've intervened, they'll try again, and we can't allow that to happen."

The coach's hands loosened their grip on the chair. His fear was giving way to reason, though a sliver of doubt lingered. "And you expect me to just trust you? After all this?"

Bhavin crouched beside him, his voice dropping to a sincere tone. "We understand how hard this must be for you. But trust us when we say we've done this before. We've dealt with worse, and every single time, we've succeeded in keeping those under our watch safe."

Rakshith leaned forward, his eyes steady and resolute. "Coach, tomorrow's match is crucial, not just for the team but for maintaining the illusion that everything is fine. If you don't show up, it'll raise questions—questions that could lead back to this incident. We need you to be there, to act as if nothing happened."

The coach's lips tightened. "You're asking me to walk into a stadium full of people, with who knows what kind of threats still out there. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Bhavin's hand rested lightly on the coach's shoulder. "We do. That's why we're promising you—on our lives—that nothing will happen to you. We'll be there, watching every corner, covering every angle. No harm will reach you, Coach. That's a guarantee."

There was a long pause as the coach weighed their words. Finally, he exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. "Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be there. But only because you're asking me to."

Rakshith stood, his tone laced with quiet determination. "Thank you. We won't let you down. For now, get some rest. You're safe here, and the police are monitoring the perimeter. We'll regroup early in the morning."

As the two officers prepared to leave, the coach called after them, his voice tinged with lingering apprehension. "What happens if... if they try something again tomorrow?"

Rakshith turned, his expression a mixture of assurance and unyielding resolve. "Then we'll stop them before they get close. That's our job, Coach. Trust us to do it."

With that, Rakshith and Bhavin exited the room, closing the door softly behind them. Outside, Bhavin glanced at Rakshith, his voice low. "Think he'll hold up tomorrow?"

"He has to," Rakshith replied, his tone firm. "And so do we."

The safe house fell quiet once more, the faint sound of crickets filling the night air. Inside, the coach sat alone, his thoughts a tumult of fear and hope. But for the first time since the ordeal began, he felt a small measure of security, a fragile belief that maybe, just maybe, these people could deliver on their promise.

********************************

The morning sun glared down on the stadium as it began to fill with excited spectators. Flags fluttered in the breeze, and chants of fans echoed throughout the massive arena, creating a charged atmosphere. The smell of freshly watered grass mingled with the aroma of snacks from concession stands, making the air electric with anticipation.Banners with players' names, particularly Shaurya's, fluttered in the breeze. The arena was alive, yet beneath this celebratory facade, tension simmered.

In the dressing room, the cricket team huddled around their coach, whose normally steady hands now gripped the edge of the whiteboard tightly. His face was pale, but he forced a determined expression as he reviewed the strategies for the day.

"Focus on the basics," the coach said, his voice firm but slightly strained. "Stick to the game plan we've practiced. Openers, build a steady foundation. Bowlers, keep it tight and don't let them dominate."

The players nodded, their adrenaline surging for the match ahead, completely unaware of the storm raging in their coach's mind. He felt the weight of the previous night's events pressing down on him, yet he pushed it aside. For the sake of his team and the audience, he needed to act as if everything was normal.

Shaurya addressed his team with his usual captain's charisma, though his sharp eyes occasionally darted toward the "reporters" or to a particular reporter stationed nearby.

Shaurya adjusted his gloves, turning to Akshith. "All-rounders are key today. If we falter anywhere, it'll be up to you."

Akshith gave a confident nod. "Got it, captain."

Yuvaan, standing nearby, was fidgeting with his bat. "Let's give them a show they'll remember."

Siraj smirked. "And keep the opposition's batsmen scrambling with my bowling."

The officers, stationed strategically around the players under the guise of filming, communicated in coded phrases. Ananya adjusted her camera lens, capturing Shaurya's pre-match pep talk while discreetly observing the staff moving around the locker room.

Vikram, holding a microphone for "interviews," casually remarked, "The focus today should be on close-ups of the action," subtly signaling his vigilance over every corner of the players' area.

Rakshith hovered near the entrance to the locker room, pretending to supervise equipment logistics while keeping a sharp eye out for any suspicious movements. Bhavin handled the tech setup for the fake documentary, his earpiece buzzing softly with updates from Shika and Nithin, who were stationed near the control room and perimeter respectively.

"Area clear so far," Shika whispered.

"Nothing unusual here," Nithin added.

The toss was won by Shaurya, who elected to bat first, a decision that immediately electrified the crowd. The openers—Shaurya and Yuvaan—walked out to the middle amidst roaring cheers.

The first over was a cautious start, with Shaurya defending skillfully against the opposition's lead pacer. On the fifth delivery, however, Shaurya stepped out and sent the ball soaring over mid-wicket for a stunning six, igniting the crowd.

"Classic Shaurya! That's why he's the captain," the commentator exclaimed.

Yuvaan, at the other end, complemented Shaurya's aggressive strokes with measured precision. Their partnership built steadily, frustrating the bowlers as boundaries began flowing. Akshith joined the fray after Yuvaan's dismissal and immediately made an impact with his powerful lofted drives and quick singles.

The opposition fought back with disciplined bowling, and a few wickets fell in quick succession. By the end of the innings, the team posted a competitive total of 175 runs, thanks largely to a fiery 65 from Shaurya and a crucial 30-run cameo by Akshith.

Despite the thrill of the game, the officers remained vigilant. Ananya caught sight of a man in the crowd acting suspiciously, his hand constantly reaching for his phone and glancing around nervously. As the players retreated to the dugout for a brief break, the officers intensified their focus.

"Possible suspect in Stand C, near the aisle," she whispered into her comms.

"Noted. I'll send someone," Shika replied.

Shika approached the man casually, pretending to be a vendor offering snacks. As she got closer, she noticed a bulge in his jacket pocket. Her heart raced, but she kept her demeanor calm, handing him a packet of chips with a bright smile while discreetly snapping a photo of him to send to the team.

The officers moved swiftly yet inconspicuously, their actions seamlessly blending into the activities of the media crew. Meanwhile, Vikram hovered near the players, ensuring no one got too close to them.

The second innings began with Siraj charging in for the first over. His fiery pace left the opposition batsmen scrambling, with the ball missing the stumps by mere inches several times. The crowd roared with every near-miss, the tension palpable.

By the third over, Siraj struck, shattering the stumps with a perfect yorker. The stadium erupted as he celebrated with his trademark fist pump.

Shaurya's sharp captaincy came into play as he rotated his bowlers strategically. Akshith's all-round skills shone brightly when he took two key wickets in his spell, breaking the opposition's middle-order backbone.

The fielding was sharp, with Yuvaan diving to stop crucial boundaries and Siraj taking a stunning catch at the deep mid-wicket boundary, silencing the opposition fans.

Meanwhile, Bhavin intercepted a man loitering near the players' entrance with a suspicious bag. "Excuse me, sir, can I help you?" he asked, his tone polite but firm.

The man stammered, clutching the bag tighter. Bhavin's sharp eyes caught the beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the pleasant weather. "I'm just waiting for someone," the man said, avoiding eye contact.

"Mind if I check your bag? Standard security protocol," Bhavin said, motioning to a nearby guard to assist.

The man hesitated but relented under Bhavin's unwavering gaze. The bag contained nothing more than fan merchandise, but the man's demeanor was enough to keep him under watch for the rest of the match.

The match came down to the final over, with the opposition needing 15 runs to win. Shaurya handed the ball to Akshith, whose nerves of steel were evident in his measured run-up.

The first ball was a dot, followed by a wicket on the second—a crucial breakthrough that left the crowd roaring. The next delivery went for a six, reigniting tension, but Akshith kept his cool, delivering two consecutive dot balls.

The final ball required the batsman to hit a six to tie the game. Akshith delivered a clever slower ball that the batsman mistimed, sending it high into the air. Shaurya positioned himself under it and caught it cleanly, sealing the win.

The crowd erupted, chants of Shaurya's and Akshith's name filling the air. The players celebrated on the field, lifting Akshith on their shoulders for his stellar final over.

The officers, however, remained on alert even amidst the celebration. Vikram gestured subtly to Rakshith, signaling that their mission was still ongoing.

The coach, standing with the players, finally allowed himself a relieved smile. For now, the threat had been contained, and the team had triumphed. But as the officers regrouped post-match, their focus was unwavering.

"The match may be over, but we're not done," Rakshith reminded them firmly.

As the crowd dispersed, the officers stayed behind, ensuring every loose end was tied up. For the players, it was a day of glory. For the officers, it was just another mission accomplished—quietly and in the shadows.

*************************

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