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The street was unusually quiet for a Friday evening. Neon lights blinked dully above shuttered shops as rain drizzled down in a gentle mist. A young woman, no older than twenty-five, walked briskly through the narrow alleyways of Old Delhi, wearing a simple black T-shirt and faded jeans. Her name was Aanya.
Most people wouldn't give Aanya a second glance. That was the point.
But behind those alert eyes and quick steps was a secret not even her closest friend knew. Aanya wasn’t just a girl with headphones and a worn backpack. She was a hunter. And tonight, she was on a mission.
The Package
Earlier that day, Aanya had received a message on a secure channel:
“Subject in possession of red drive. Location: Chandni Chowk. Objective: Recover without exposure.”
She didn’t ask questions. She never did. As part of an elite underground intelligence network known only as SHIELD//29, her job was simple: execute, extract, vanish.
The black T-shirt was her uniform — low profile, functional, and symbolic. Every operative wore one on a mission.
She slipped through the narrow lanes, dodging vegetable carts and stray dogs, until she reached the address: a crumbling old bookshop that had probably seen three generations of wars.
Inside, a bell tinkled as she pushed open the door. A thick scent of paper and dust hung in the air.
An old man behind the counter looked up, eyes narrowing.
“I’m here for the Red Edition,” Aanya said calmly.
He stared for a second too long. Then his lips cracked into a knowing smile. “Follow me.”
Double Crossed
The moment Aanya stepped into the back room, she knew something was wrong.
No subject. No drive. Just a trap.
Two men lunged from the shadows. Aanya dropped to the floor instinctively, kicking out at the first man’s knee. He screamed and collapsed. The second one pulled out a stun baton.
Crack!
Electricity sparked through the air as she dodged sideways, grabbing a metal ruler from a desk and jabbing it into his throat. He staggered back, gasping.
She dashed out of the room and into the crowded street.
Someone had set her up.
The Voice on the Line
Back at her safehouse — a one-room rooftop flat disguised as a henna artist’s studio — Aanya locked the door and opened her encrypted laptop.
Messages were already pouring in.
UNKNOWN:
The mission was compromised. Subject was intercepted. Do not trust the handler.
Her eyes narrowed. Her handler, Karan, had been with her for three years. He had recruited her after the incident at Mumbai Central when she saved a diplomat’s daughter during a hostage situation. He was like a brother.
But spies don’t get the luxury of trust.
Aanya typed a quick command. The screen flickered and displayed the location of a recent signal burst — it had come from a hotel in Karol Bagh.
Karan was there.
Truth and Blood
At midnight, she slipped into the hotel through a fire exit. Room 407.
Her Glock was holstered. Silencer on.
She opened the door silently.
Karan was inside, sitting by the window, a drink in his hand.
“You found me,” he said without turning.
Aanya didn’t lower her gun. “Why?”
He sighed. “Because they offered me something I couldn’t refuse. My sister’s life. They had her.”
“And the drive?” she asked coldly.
“In the locker below this building. But it’s not just any drive, Aanya. It contains the list of all SHIELD//29 operatives. Every name. Every address. If it falls into the wrong hands…”
“You already sold it, didn’t you?” Her voice trembled with rage.
“No,” he whispered. “I was waiting for you. I knew you’d come. I wanted… to fix it.”
But before she could respond, the window behind him shattered.
Sniper.
The bullet pierced Karan’s chest, and he slumped forward, blood spreading across his shirt.
Aanya hit the ground, rolled to the bed for cover, and smashed the lamp to kill the light.
The sniper wouldn’t get a second shot.
She climbed out the broken window, scaling down the pipes like a cat. The locker. She had to get to that locker.
Red Drive
The basement locker room smelled of mold and rust. There were over 100 lockers, each requiring a numeric code.
Karan had scribbled something on a napkin beside his drink: 7091.
She typed it into locker 27.
Click.
Inside was a red USB drive, small, innocuous — but lethal in the right hands.
She had just pocketed it when a voice rang out behind her.
“Drop it. Now.”
It was a woman, tall, blonde, dressed in combat black. Not Indian. Likely CIA or MI6 — foreign agencies had been hunting SHIELD//29 secrets for years.
“You don’t want to do this,” Aanya said.
“Oh, I do.” The woman stepped forward. “You're just a girl in a T-shirt. Hand over the drive.”
Aanya smirked. “Exactly. Just a girl in a T-shirt.”
And then she pulled the emergency lever on the wall. The sprinklers exploded, water spraying everywhere.
In the chaos, Aanya ducked behind the lockers. The woman fired, missing by inches.
But Aanya was already gone — out the back exit, into the rain-soaked streets.
The Last Stand
There was only one place left to go: The Citadel — SHIELD//29’s hidden data vault deep under the Yamuna River. Only operatives with physical drives could enter.
Aanya rode a stolen bike through the foggy city, the black T-shirt clinging to her back like armor. She wasn’t just finishing a mission now — she was saving everyone she knew.
She reached the riverbank, pressed the drive into a barely visible stone crevice, and waited.
The ground shifted.
A hatch opened, revealing a staircase lit in eerie blue light.
Inside the vault, an AI scanned her retina. “Welcome, Agent A-29.”
She inserted the red drive into the central core.
The system recognized the breach and initiated a lockdown. All operative identities were wiped from external servers. The information was now secure — but only inside the vault.
Mission complete.
But Aanya knew it wasn’t over.
The agency had been compromised. Someone within had sold her out. Karan had died trying to protect a truth too dangerous to reveal.
And now… she was the only one left who knew what was coming next.
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