Encounter Between Enemies

A Lesson in Silence

Rehman slowly opened his eyes.

Before him, the bomb’s digital display sat frozen at 00:01. The red wire hung cleanly severed. The double-speed countdown had been nothing more than a psychological ploy designed to break his resolve, but his swift cut had disarmed the primary core just in time. He took a long, steadying breath, silently offering a prayer of gratitude to Almighty Allah that all the innocent children were alive and unharmed.

Without losing a second, Rehman pulled out his phone, dispatched emergency medical services, and had the children transported to the central hospital for urgent care and stabilization.

The moment he stepped out of the hospital doors, the brief flash of relief vanished, replaced once more by an impenetrable wall of ice. He turned to Hamid, his tone sharp and flat.

"Hamid. Issue an immediate directive for every senior police officer to report to the headquarters meeting room."

Hamid glanced at his watch in utter astonishment. "Understood, Sir. But... right now? It is past ten at night."

Rehman’s eyes blazed. "I don't care if it's ten at night or two in the morning! Summon every last one of those complacent, incompetent officers. They are entirely useless. And make sure our so-called 'star operative' is present as well."

Within forty-five minutes, the high-ranking officers—bleary-eyed, disheveled, and visibly unnerved—assembled inside the dimly lit briefing room. A thick, suffocating dread hung over the table.

Taking the head seat, Rehman surveyed the room with a gaze that burned like acid. When he spoke, his voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"This country continues to bleed because of lazy, unqualified men and women like you. Does a single person in this room have the faintest idea why you’ve been dragged here in the middle of the night?"

The officers exchanged frantic, nervous glances, stammering incoherently.

"Sir... perhaps an urgent development on the case..."

"Sir... please forgive us, we weren't informed..."

Rehman slammed his hands onto the polished wood and stood up, towering over them.

"I know why—because you are all utterly incompetent! Ten children were snatched in broad daylight today. Hamid contacted every single department represented in this room, yet not a single officer reached the primary scene!"

He scanned the line of pale faces, a cold, mocking smirk playing on his lips. "And where is our esteemed expert? Where is Miss Fajr Sarfraz?"

Fajr took a firm step forward from the back of the room, holding her posture.

"General, I am here. Forgive my delay. I proceeded directly to the secondary coordinates, but by the time I arrived, you had already resolved the tactical situation."

Rehman dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. "I have zero patience for polished excuses. When asked why you were summoned, not one of you had an answer. Now you offer hollow apologies? Those children represent the future of this nation, yet none of you bothered to move a finger. I am thoroughly disgusted."

A faint, chilling smile touched Rehman’s lips as he leaned in. "However... in light of your 'unprecedented dedication' today, I have decided to grant you all a special reward."

At the word reward, the color drained from the officers' faces. Air hitched in their throats.

Fajr leaned toward Officer Noor, whispering under her breath, "Noor, why is everyone trembling? He just said it's a reward."

Noor was sweating, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "Fajr, you don't understand... in the General's military lexicon, a 'reward' is a nightmare. It means a penalty only he has the authority to design."

Hamid stepped forward respectfully, standing at attention. "General! What are your orders regarding their disciplinary action?"

Rehman rested his palms on the table, his tone dropping into an eerie, calm cadence that sent shivers down every spine in the room.

"Tonight, every officer in this room will be bound to their chairs with live training time-bombs. All except two. If anyone speaks, moves, or resists, the countdown will accelerate. If you sit in absolute silence until dawn... you will be granted your freedom."

Rehman adjusted the cuffs of his dark coat, his gaze sweeping over the terrified crowd.

"Meeting dismissed."

A horrifying silence fell over the room. With trembling hands, Hamid began securing the officers to their chairs one by one, the soft, metallic click of the harness buckles quickly overshadowed by the synchronized, rhythmic ticking of digital timers echoing off the concrete walls.

Once the last officer was secured, Hamid turned to Rehman, who stood framed in the doorway, watching the scene with cold detachment.

Hamid hesitated, keeping his voice low. "General... the rest of the unit is secured. But... what about Miss Fajr? Is she to be exempted, or... punished ?"

Rehman slowly pivoted, fixing his piercing glare on Fajr.

She did not flinch. Standing tall amidst the rising panic of her colleagues, she looked straight into his dark eyes, her chin lifted with defiance and not a single trace of fear.

An enigmatic, dangerous smile curved Rehman's lips—a silent prelude to a command that was about to alter the course of the night.

On the other side of the city, inside a luxurious corner office, Arsalan listened to the latest news report on his tablet.

"What...?" he murmured, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his sharp features. "Are you serious?"

He let out a low laugh, turning his gaze toward his trembling team of executives standing before his desk. His tone shifted into pure, razor-sharp mockery.

"Unbelievable... You all are nothing more than useless statues. Utterly worthless."

He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers as he locked eyes with his head manager.

"And you actually have the audacity to stand there and tell me you haven't found a new assistant yet? Because candidates are afraid of me? What do they think—that I eat human flesh for breakfast?"

Silence blanketed the room. No one dared to breathe.

"Why is everyone so terrified of me?" Arsalan continued, his voice dropping into a deceptively smooth cadence. "All I ask for is absolute perfection. But since you’ve failed me again... here is what’s going to happen. Each of you will eat two full spoonfuls of crushed red chili paste right now. And your quarterly bonuses? Canceled."

He chuckled softly to himself, visibly amused by his own cruelty. "Ah... what a wonderfully creative punishment."

Slapping his hands onto the desk, his demeanor snapped back to dead seriousness.

"Now get out of my sight and get back to work! And tell me—what time is my meeting with the new investors?"

Before anyone could answer, he pointed a finger directly at the manager. "I want a qualified assistant on my desk in two days. If you fail to find one... you will become my personal assistant. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir!" the manager squeaked.

"Now get out."

The employees practically scrambled out the door, bowing frantically. The moment the heavy oak doors shut behind them, the manager wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead and muttered under his breath:

"Who in their right mind would ever want to be your assistant? You insufferable tyrant... I’ll find you an assistant alright—someone just as unhinged and stubborn as you are!"