Location: Mumbai Dockyard, late evening.
Dockyard was lit only by flickering overhead lights and the occasional beam of light from passing ships. The air smelled of sea salt and rusting metal. Large shipping containers were stacked in towering rows, providing the perfect hiding places for both the criminals and the police.
Ali, still limping, chased Tariq—a lean, sharp-eyed member of Kabir's crew—through the maze of containers. Sweat was dripping down Ali's face and he was breathing heavily, but he wasn't going to let Tariq get away.
"Stop running, Yaar!" Ali shouted between breaths, his voice both angry and desperate. "You're making me look bad in front of the other cops!"
Tariq shot him a grin over his shoulder, his pace not slowing. "You're doing that just fine on your own, Inspector."
They reached a narrow, deserted part of the shipyard. Tariq stopped abruptly and turned to face Ali. He was done running. It was time to fight.
Ali came to a halt a few feet away, his chest heaving. "You think you can take me, huh? Big mistake, brother. I've been fighting guys like you since—"
"—since you were in diapers?" Tariq interrupted, rolling his eyes.
Ali frowned. "Actually, no. Since I became a cop. But you get the point."
Without another word, Tariq lunged forward and threw a quick punch aimed at Ali's face. Ali barely dodged, stumbling backward over his own feet.
"Whoa, whoa! Easy there, Jackie Chan!" Ali muttered, quickly regaining his balance.
Tariq smiled, clearly unimpressed, and moved in again, this time throwing a kick to Ali's midsection. But Ali, though not the most graceful, was quick. He ducked and Tariq's kick hit nothing but air.
"Ha! Missed me!" Ali sneered, puffing out his chest. "You gotta be faster than that, brother."
Tariq wasn't amused. He came at Ali with a flurry of punches, his movements sharp and precise, but Ali—channeling his inner clumsiness—managed to dodge most of them by sheer accident. Every time Tariq threw a punch, Ali would awkwardly lean back, trip over something, or stumble out of the way, causing Tariq's punches to miss by inches.
It was like watching an action-comedy.
Ali, now feeling confident, began to dance around Tariq, throwing weak punches in the air, mimicking a boxer. "Come on, come on! You don't know who you're messing with! I'm Ali! Inspector Ali!"
Tariq's eyes narrowed. He had had enough. He grabbed a metal pipe lying on the ground and swung it at Ali's head.
Ali's eyes widened. "Oh, no you don't!"
He ducked just in time, the pipe swishing over his head. Ali jumped back up, grinning. "You call that a swing? My grandma could—"
Before he could finish, Tariq swung again, this time aiming for Ali's legs. Ali yelped and jumped over the pipe like a man who had just seen a snake. He stumbled backwards almost falling into a stack of crates.
"Okay, okay, maybe you're a little better than I thought," Ali admitted, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But I'm just getting warmed up!"
Tariq shook his head, clearly annoyed, and moved in for a final strike.
But Ali had one last trick up his sleeve.
As Tariq charged forward, Ali suddenly spotted a nearby fishing net hanging from one of the containers. With quick thinking, he grabbed it and threw it over Tariq, entangling him in the thick ropes.
Tariq struggled to free himself, but the more he struggled, the more tangled he became.
"Gotcha!" Ali laughed triumphantly. "Who's the tough guy now, huh?"
Tariq glared at him through the ropes. "You think this is over? You're going to regret this."
Ali shrugged. "I don't know, bro. You're kinda stuck in a net. I think I've won this one."
Just as Ali was about to call for backup, the roar of a motorcycle engine echoed through the shipyard. Ali's eyes widened as a sleek black motorcycle roared around the corner, heading straight for him.
Before Ali could react, another member of Kabir's gang, a masked rider dressed in all black, appeared out of nowhere and drove the motorcycle straight at him. The bike skidded to a dramatic stop inches away from Ali, who jumped back in alarm.
"Whoa, whoa! Watch the bike, yaar! You almost took off my foot!"
Without a word, the rider reached down and in one swift motion yanked Tariq out of the net. Tariq, now standing beside the motorcycle, gave Ali a smug grin.
"Looks like I've got places to be, Inspector."
Ali blinked, still processing what had just happened. "Wait, what? You're leaving already? We just got to the good part!"
Tariq grinned and jumped on the back of the bike. "Don't worry, Ali. We'll meet again. And next time, I won't go easy on you."
Before Ali could say another word, the masked rider revved the engine, and the bike sped off into the night, leaving a trail of dust and confusion in its wake.
Ali stood there, hands on his hips, watching them disappear into the distance. He let out a long, frustrated sigh.
"Great. Just great. First I almost get beaten up, then a guy in a net shows up, and now they get away on a motorcycle. Jai will never let me live this down."
He looked around, noticed the quiet shipyard, and sighed again. "Well, at least I didn't get hit in the face this time. Progress, right?"
Ali dusted off his jacket, grabbed his phone and called Jai. "Jai, you're not going to believe this... but I might need a ride."
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