The roads here were bumpy and uneven. The car lurched forward, jerking and groaning noisily every few minutes. Signs of civilization were farther apart the longer they drove.

“Where’re we going?” Fasih asked conversationally, after almost twenty minutes of silence.

Abhijat had expected him to protest, to demand what was going on. So far, he had given no indication of distress or confusion. Abhijat wondered if he even knew they were headed the wrong way.

He said nothing, and Fasih didn’t press the matter. He couldn’t have failed to notice that they were no longer headed for the Central Secretariat. They had long since driven off the highway and were now nearing the northern edge of the city.

Abhijat gritted his teeth and pressed down on the accelerator, ignoring the way the car jerked in response. He’d made his choice. It was too late to turn back now. He had to move forward.

After a few more minutes of traveling through labyrinthine lanes and alleyways, the car lurched to a halt in front of an old warehouse about twenty kilometers from the city.

Abhijat reached inside his jacket and stepped out of the car, the comforting weight of the semi-automatic pistol in his hand. He held the back door open and pointed the gun at Fasih.

Jehan arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Get out,” Abhijat barked, his skin prickling with unease. “And give me your phone.”

“I told you, it’s dead.” He rolled his eyes, holding the device out for Abhijat to take. “Though I see now why that is. Your idea? Excellent planning, I have to say.”

Something in Abhijat’s expression must have given him away, because Fasih laughed. “You’ve no idea what I’m talking about, have you? None of this was your idea at all. Just a pawn on the chessboard, huh? Should’ve known.” He sighed. “You aren’t quite devious enough for all this. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve shot me in my bed and hanged for it. Disposing of the body isn’t really in your domain of expertise, is it?”

“Shut up!” Abhijat snarled, snatching the phone away from Jehan and disassembling it with one hand. “Your time’s up, Fasih. Your goddamn mind-games won’t work on me, not anymore.

“You thought you could destroy my family, subjugate my country, and I wouldn’t notice anything? You thought I wouldn’t lift a finger to stop you?”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Clearly, you’re lifting all five.” Jehan stared pointedly at the gun in Abhijat’s hand, sounding bored.

Abhijat moved, closing the distance between them. He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Fasih’s cardigan, pulling him closer even as he pressed the muzzle of the pistol to the side of his head. “The game’s over, Fasih. No more lies, no more conspiracies. Not as long as I’m still alive. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure you can’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

“Hurt anyone? And here I thought you were the one pressing a gun to my head,” he pouted. “Still, I wonder what bullshit they fed you, to get you this riled up. Even you aren’t usually this irrational.

“Who was it? Maganti? No, of course not. He wouldn’t waste his time on foot-soldiers. It was Rinisa, wasn’t it?” He smirked. “What did she tell you? That I’ve been murdering puppies across Naijan? That I plan to sell the country off to the highest bidder?”

“I’ve seen it,” Abhijat said quietly, letting go of Fasih’s cardigan, though he still kept the pistol pressed to his head. “All that money Maganti sent your mother. The receipts, the bank statements, everything. It’s no use lying to me now.”

Fasih jerked, looking up to stare wide-eyed at Abhijat. “My-my mother?”

Abhijat wondered if he was genuinely surprised, or if he was just that good an actor.

“Well, I’ll give them points for ingenuity. Even I hadn’t thought of that angle, and I make it a habit to think of everything. Not that it makes a difference now, of course.” He laughed, looking away. “Still, you might as well know. Not like we have anything better to do.

“I haven’t spoken to my mother in more than ten years. Hell, I don’t even know what she looks like anymore. My mistake. She returned to Maralana; I should’ve known they’d use her against me one way or another. Although this is not the approach I would’ve expected.”

“You’re lying,” Abhijat said, ignoring the tremor in his own voice.

Of course he was. Had he really expected Fasih to confess the truth just because he had a gun to his head? He probably still thought he could trick Abhijat, manipulate him into doing his bidding.

And yet, that look of wide-eyed astonishment when Abhijat had first mentioned his mother. He couldn’t quite make himself believe that that’d been a lie.

A sudden clamor made him whirl, one arm across Fasih’s chest, holding him in a vice-like grip, the gun still pointed at his head.

Two burly men in leather jackets stepped out of the warehouse, followed by Rinisa, who was wearing a low-cut sweatshirt over a pair of red track pants. A strange gray locket dangled from a simple gold chain around her neck.

All three of them were heavily armed.

Rinisa smiled sweetly at Abhijat. “Thank you, darling. You’ve done very well. Really.” Her eyes raked over Fasih in a way that made Abhijat’s skin crawl. “So much better than I’d expected.”

Before Abhijat could form a reply, the man to Rinisa’s right raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

Fasih went limp in his arms, a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his chest. A moment later, Abhijat felt a sting in his neck. His vision swam and his knees buckled under him. The gun fell out from between his benumbed fingers.

Seconds later, darkness overcame him.