Aaliya sat in her dimly lit office, the soft hum of computers filling the silence. Her eyes were locked on the screen, her fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard as she worked to decrypt a coded message. It had come from an unusual source—an online shooting game chat room. These channels were often used by spies to transmit hidden messages, and Aaliya had cracked many of them before. But this one felt different, more urgent.

As the final lines of code gave way to readable text, her heart stopped. There it was, buried in the message: "Target: Mumbai. Subject: Zayan." Aaliya's breath caught. After weeks of dead ends, this was the first solid lead. Zayan, their missing team leader, might be alive and in Mumbai.

Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her phone and dialed Major Hamza, the team's chief. The phone rang only once before he picked up, his voice calm and steady.

"Aaliya, what have you found?" Hamza asked, sensing her urgency.

"It's another coded message, sir," Aaliya said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I've cracked it, and it's about Zayan. There's a reference to Mumbai—he might be there."

There was a brief silence on the other end, and Aaliya imagined Hamza's intense gaze, assessing the situation. "We've had false leads before," he said slowly. "Are you sure about this one?"

"I am, sir," Aaliya replied, determination hardening her tone. "This code was different. It's more complex, and the pattern is convincing."

Hamza let out a slow breath, clearly torn. "We can't afford another mistake," he said. "I need confirmation before I risk sending a team in. Zubair and Asma are already in Mumbai, monitoring for any suspicious activity. I'll have them verify your intel."

Aaliya's heart sank a little. She knew Hamza was right—they had been misled too many times before. "Understood, sir," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. "I'll send the decoded message to you."

"Do that," Hamza said firmly. "And Aaliya... don't let this get to you. We've been here before."

The call ended, leaving Aaliya alone with her thoughts. She forwarded the decoded message to Hamza, the hope in her chest mingling with a growing sense of dread. If this lead turned out to be another trap, she wasn't sure how much longer they could keep up the search. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that this time, it was different.

Hours dragged by as Aaliya waited for an update. She barely moved from her desk, her eyes glued to the screen, re-checking her decryption for any errors. Her phone remained silent, the seconds ticking away like a slow, torturous countdown.

Finally, a message popped up from Hamza: "Verification in progress. Stand by."

The wait was excruciating. Aaliya's hope teetered on a knife's edge, balanced between faith and despair. Morning light crept into the room, casting long shadows over her desk, but she didn't move, refusing to sleep until she knew for sure.

Her phone rang, and she grabbed it instantly. Hamza's voice was grim. "I just heard from Zubair and Asma. They checked every detail you sent. It's another decoy, Aaliya. There's no trace of Zayan in Mumbai."

Aaliya's shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she couldn't find her voice. "Another false lead," she finally whispered, feeling the crushing weight of disappointment.

"I'm sorry," Hamza said softly. "Whoever is sending these messages is toying with us, trying to throw us off."

"Why?" Aaliya asked, her voice raw with frustration. "Why would they do this if Zayan is really gone?"

"I don't know," Hamza admitted. "But we'll find out. Whoever is behind this, they'll slip up eventually."

Aaliya took a deep breath, anger and determination welling up inside her. "I'm not giving up, sir. I'll keep digging. We can't let them win."

"Good," Hamza said, his voice filled with quiet strength. "We need you at your best, Aaliya. We'll bring Zayan home, one way or another."

The call ended, but Aaliya remained at her desk, staring at the empty screen. Someone was playing a dangerous game, leading them on a wild chase, trying to break their spirit. But they had underestimated her. She wouldn't stop—not until she knew the truth, one way or another.

With renewed determination, she pulled up all the files she had, scouring every piece of data for clues. She would crack the code, find the truth, and bring Zayan back. Whoever was behind these false leads was going to regret underestimating her resolve.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, the only sound in the room the steady tap-tap-tap of keys as Aaliya began her search anew. She wouldn't rest, she wouldn't sleep, not until Zayan was safe. This mission had become personal, and she was ready to see it through—no matter the cost.