Handoko and Yenny were still standing in front of the screens, the weight of the proof from the molar discovery slowly sinking in. It was the breakthrough they'd been hoping for—proof of something far larger, far more sinister. The atmosphere in the room had changed from tense to triumphant. But then it happened.
Suddenly, every screen in the room flickered and went black.
"What's going on?" Yenny asked, her voice edged with confusion.
Before Handoko could respond, a soft, almost eerie whisper interrupted the silence, crackling through the intercom.
"This is your warning," the voice whispered—low, slow, almost intimate. "57 minutes left. You have one hour before the blast. You're running out of time."
It wasn't an ordinary threat. The words weren't harsh or forceful. Instead, they carried a strange sense of familiarity—like someone with inside knowledge, a silent observer who knew exactly what was happening. It was as if they had been watching, waiting for this moment to unfold.
The screens blinked back to life, but instead of showing vital facilities or CCTV feeds, they displayed a single page with a countdown. Numbers ticking down, second by second. 57 minutes, 56 minutes, 55 minutes…
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The location, locked into place, flashed up on the screen: Juanda Train Station, right in front of Central Mosque, the heart of one of the busiest areas in Jakarta.
"Juanda...?" Handoko muttered; his throat dry. His mind raced as he processed the information. That location was crowded with people every day—commuters, tourists, and families. And now it was a target. The countdown was ticking closer and closer to zero.
The eerie voice continued, almost a whisper now, as if it didn't want to be heard.
"Go. Save them if you can, but you're running out of time. The world is about to burn."
The officers in the room scrambled. Phones ringing. Frantic movements. The sheer panic was palpable. But Handoko—he was already moving, his mind a blur. They weren't just dealing with a random attack. This was something far more methodical, far more calculated.
The countdown on the screen seemed to mock their efforts. 50 minutes left. Officers rushed from one end of the room to the other, trying to assess every angle, but there was a growing sense of helplessness. Handoko could feel the tension building in his chest as he scanned the screen, his heart racing. They had to move. They couldn't wait for backup.
"Focus!" Handoko snapped, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. "Get a team to Juanda Station now. Block off the roads, evacuate the civilians. I want everything surrounding that area cleared, and I want backup from the city police, immediately!"
Yenny's fingers flew over her tablet, her mind focused. "Sir, the coordinates are locked onto Juanda Station. The area is crowded—pedestrians, commuters. There's no way to clear it in time unless we move now."
Handoko's hands clenched into fists. "We don't have time. We go now." He moved toward the door, determined.
Yenny's eyes met his, her expression tense. "Sir, we don't have the resources. The roads are a mess because of the traffic. We can't mobilize fast enough."
Handoko didn't slow his pace. "I'll figure it out. Just get the information to the right people. I'm leaving now."
He was out the door before Yenny could say anything more, the countdown still ticking down with its cruel, rhythmic cadence.
As Handoko rushed through the corridors of the command center, he felt the pressure mounting. The situation had gone from urgent to desperate. Juanda Station was one of the most crowded places in the city. If the bomb went off there, the devastation would be unimaginable. The very thought of it made his stomach twist in knots.
He didn't have time to waste. He needed to get there fast. Every second counted.
"Get me a car," he ordered, approaching one of the officers in charge of logistics.
The officer shook his head. "Sir, we can't get a vehicle through. The traffic's been locked down. We're blocked everywhere."
Handoko's jaw tightened. "Then find me another option."
He scanned the room quickly, his eyes landing on something. Someone. A figure in a black jacket sitting at the far corner, tapping away on a phone. A Gojek driver.
"Get me a Gojek driver. Now."
The officer hesitated. "Sir, a motorcycle? It's too dangerous..."
"I don't care. Get me a Gojek driver, now!" Handoko barked. His patience was slipping.
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Moments later, a young man in a black jacket stood in front of him, helmet in hand.
He spotted Joko, the Gojek driver as assigned by the system, sitting by his bike, tapping his foot nervously. Handoko approached, quickly flashing his badge.
"Joko," he said, trying to sound calm but failing to mask the urgency in his voice. "We need to go to Juanda Station, fast. Take me to the exit in front of Central Mosque."
Joko stared at him, wide-eyed, his face unreadable. He nodded slowly, but his expression didn't change. Handoko repeated, "Juanda... Station, now. Exit. Central Mosque."
Joko blinked, still not understanding.
"Juanda!" Handoko's frustration crept in, his voice rising,but Joko didn't respond. Handoko took a deep breath and tried again, slower this time. "Joo...ko, Juanda Sta...tion. Fast. I need to go now."
The driver's eyes remained confused. He shook his head, his lips quivering before he stuttered, "J-Juanda? As in...th-e...m..ap ?...O-kay....k-know."
Handoko's jaw clenched. "Yes, Joko, Juanda!" He pointed to his phone. "Central Mosque!"
Joko's brow furrowed. "I-I-I... g-g-g... go... I-I..." His words tangled, stammering as his hands moved awkwardly, trying to communicate.
Handoko exhaled, his patience running thin. The clock was ticking. "Joko, please, we have to—"
Joko's hands froze in mid-air, and he pointed to his ears, mouthing something that seemed to ask for understanding. Handoko suddenly realized: the man could barely hear. He was deaf, and the stuttering wasn't just from nervousness—it was because of his disability.
Handoko's anger quickly melted into guilt. He stepped back, took a moment to gather himself, and then said, softer now, "Joko... Please. Take me to Juanda. I... need to hurry."
Joko nodded, his face softening with the understanding that had been lacking. With a final reassuring gesture, Handoko climbed into the back of the motorbike. The engine roared to life, and they sped off into the night.
Every second felt like a lifetime.
--------------------------------------------End of Chapter 6---------------------------------------