Silvery moonlight shone through a thin gap between the curtains that hung on a large window, seeping into a darkened room. The light was reflected by a gilded, framed mirror onto a figure sleeping peacefullying on the bed, below the window. The figure was a tall, slender man in his late twenties, who now lay sprawled across the bed, sound asleep. He was, evidently, still in his white shirt and chinos from his day out and had clearly collapsed from exhaustion, straight onto his bed, as he still had his suede shoes on.
In a far corner of the room, on a dark velvet chair, closest to the door, lay a leather black jacket with a black rider's helmet carelessly dumped on top. While in the opposite direction, a tiny red light blinked occasionally on a control panel near the balcony's glass door. The glass door had been left ajar. Just a crack; as the cool breeze blew into the room occasionally, ruffling the thin, white curtains and the sleeping man's tousled hair.
In the distance, night birds could be heard calling out to one another, dogs barked occasionally and somewhere down the road, the muffled sounds of a house party carried through the walls and into his room. But the man slept on, oblivious to the life teeming around, in the space outside of his bedroom.
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It was now two o'clock in the morning, according to the small, digital beside alarm clock that illuminated the man's bedside table. No sooner did the digits on the clock face change from 01:59 to 02:00, did his smartphone, which was placed next to the alarm clock, began to ring incessantly on the side table.
The noise of the phone's repetitive ringtone rang into the depths of the room's very own oblivion. After a few minutes of the rhythmic ringtone's wake, the caller decided to hang up, leaving the room in a deafening silence, as even the noise from earlier had now seemed to have stopped.
A few seconds later, the smartphone's large screen lit up once more, as the phone beeped a few times. This time, it was to indicate that new messages were received from the same number that had been trying to call the man. Yet, the man had slept on, undisturbed by the incessant summoning of his smartphone, which had then began to ring once more. Once again, the silence that followed was amplified by the absence of sound at this late hour.
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About an hour and a half later, the smartphone began to ring, yet again. It was from the same number.
This time, the man's eyes fluttered open at the sound as he reached the spot on the table where he usually placed his cellphone.
"Hmmmm... Hello?" He hummed, still asleep, barely glancing through his heavy eyelids at the caller's ID.
"Hello?" A muffled voice spoke on the other end before dropping the call.
The man's eyes widened, finally. When the realisation of what was happening had sunk in, he sat bolt up in bed, looking around, taking a defensive stance as he observed his surroundings.
Satisfied that no imminent threat was present, he looked over to his left, leaving his smartphone back in its place.
"Oh no..." he groaned out loud as he got out of bed, sitting at the edge and ran his hands over his face, then massaging his temples, easing the tension in his now mildly aching head, as he mentally sorted through his contingency plans.
He picked the phone up again and began scrolling through the text messages.
"Damn this blonde bimbo." He muttered, standing up and immediately heading towards the other side of the room. Still in his evening clothes, including his suede shoes, he crossed the room in a few seconds, having reached a large white cupboard across the room, retrieving from it, a black duffle bag. Carefully checking the contents of the bag, he grunted in a approval and proceeded to activate the alarm to his house. The man then pulled open the balcony doors, stepped through them before closing it shut behind him. He stood in the crisp night air under the moonlight, enjoying the breeze of the wee hours of the morning, sighing at his fate, as he surveyed the road below.
All clear. He sighed in relief.
He wasn't wasn't being watched. At least not in the way he knew she usually worked.
Observing the horizon, he reached into his pocket for a small pewter remote and pressed a button. Without hesitation, he leapt off the balcony's glass and metal-framed ledge, swinging off a nearby lamppost and landing squarely infront of a black, state of the art, motor vehicle.
He pulls open the driver's door and dumps the duffle bag on the seat beside him as he gets in, closing the door simultaneously.
As soon as his fingers touched the steering wheel, the entire dashboard lit up. The vehicle was no ordinary luxury car. It was specially designed to respond to its owners thoughts and actions.
Specifically speaking, the car possessed an advanced version of Artificial Intelligence, which almost worked like a telepathic link with the owner.
His smartphone beeped, and a notification alerted him that his phone was now synced with the vehicle's in-house communication system. No sooner had he started up the engine, at the press of a button, did his phone ring for a third time tonight. Cursing mildly under his breath, he answered the call as he drove out the yard, past the bawdy effigies of the water fountain near the drive's entrance.
The gilded gates closed smoothly behind him, as he noted the coordinates of his destination.
...
The man drove for at least a good thirty minutes before turning onto a coastal road, unsuspecting and simple as it hugged the shoreline on his left, while suggested places to visit, were on his right. These included the string of popular hotels, ranging from hotel Blue Waters to the Maharani Hotel, which had dotted the coastline, and hosted the many tourists that populated the city's infamous beachfront. Instead, the man drove on unblinkingly.
At a traffic circle, somewhere much closer to the five star hotels, he turned right, onto a dull road that lead to a cul-de-sac, facing the large, dingy facade of building. In the front of the building were two white painted lines, indicating three parking spots for visitors. However, the minute the vehicle's front tyres had touched the tarred surface of the parking bay in the middle, a blue light was activated by the tyre's tracks and the surface of the parking bay began to descend, creating a ramp of sorts, into a dark underground chamber. Familiar with the territory, the man drives his vehicle down the ramp, disappearing completely as the 'ramp' ascends to form the parking bay once more.
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"Oh... I see you've made it, Mr. Yashvardhan." Came a confident, yet sultry voice.
"Yeah, no thanks to you." Yash growls irritably as he jumps out the vehicle and slams the door closed.
"Careful now. The government is paying for that." The voice mused, the speaker rolled their chair from a desk hidden by shadows, into the light at the centre of the room, where Yash now stood.
She had blonde hair and an elegant smile, but her green eyes did not reflect the smile.
"What do you want Celina?" Yash asked, his patience running thin.
He hated when she toyed with him before giving him the code for his next assignment. She enjoyed it. And it made him sick.
"Well if you aren't going to be nice, I'm not telling!" She snapped.
"Fine by me. Let Robert know I'm here will you. I'll wait in the car. I have some unfinished business to take care off." He scowled at her and stomped back to his vehicle.
...
"Yash!" Someone calls out, incessantly tapping at the thick glass windows of the vehicle he was asleep in.
He'd decided to wait for Robert in the comfort of his vehicle, before he did something he that may either get him sacked or might regret forevermore. The woman was persistent and did not take no for an answer.
He wasn't that type.
She wasn't even his type! Even if he ever had to go looking for that. Which he wouldn't ever do. The women in this city were ridiculous. Well... not all of them.
Urmi was never like that.
It wasn't fair to her. Or the memory of her.
Whether he cared for it or not, Yash didn't approve of women throwing themselves at him. He didn't care what the reason was; he just didn't stand for such rubbish.
Lost in his thoughts, Yash eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
...
"Hello?" He awoke to a familiar voice calling out to him, tapping the glass of his car's window.
"Yash! Hello!" The person tapped again.
"What do you want Ce-" He froze, realising it wasn't the profile of that pest of a woman.
"Hello...?" He called back, his voice hoarse after a good long nap. He realised who it was and immediately fixed his hair and got out the backseat of the vehicle.
"Lex...?" He was surprised to see his cousin here, of all places.
"Long story. Look, Robert is dead, man. You have to get out of here now." Lex implored, handing him a black flash drive.
"Take this to the White Lab." She'll know what to do with it.
"Any coordinates or code words for me?" He asked as he jumped into the driver's seat.
"Nah man, just do as I say and take it to her." He pressed the flash drive into Yash's hand when Yahs didn't take it.
"Who Lex? I need a name at least." Yash asked Lex, pressing for him for a lead to this new case. As he was closing the driver's door, and starting up the engine, he received his answer.
"Fig."
"Our sister-in-law?" Yash asked Lex incredulously, studying his cousin's face.
"It'll make sense when you get there okay." He gave him a sad smile and walked back to the white doors at the circumference of the room, almost hidden by the shadows.
"What on God's green Earth is going on here? Has everyone lost their minds?" He exclaimed to the now empty room, smashing a fist on the dashboard.
"Master Yash, that was completely uncalled for." Sounded an AI generated voice.
"Sor... sorry, Alexa." Yash muttered as he drove out the shutter doors that rolled opened before him.
"Apology accepted sir." The female AI voice replied. "Now let's kick some butt."
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