Page 34 of The Pursuit
White-hot fury surged through me at her casual disregard for everything we could have built together—for the future I’d foolishly assumed was within our reach. I wanted to tell her so much more—to scold her, to put some sense into her, but words failed to form in my throat. I just wanted to end everything right there and leave, to hide myself from Trisha and not let her see how vulnerable she’d made me because of her admission at that moment.
“I wish you all the best in your missions to come, Agent Trisha.” The formal title felt cold and impersonal on my lips as I spun on my heel, storming toward the door. I refused to look back, to let her see the storm ravaging my soul at that moment.
No more personal entanglements. This would never happen again, I silently vowed. I wouldn’t let anyone exploit me emotionally hereon. And most importantly, never again would I make the mistake of giving my heart so freely, only to be rejected and discarded like trash. Trisha’s words had pricked too deep this time to be healed anytime soon… or rather… to be healed in this lifetime.
CHAPTER 13 (NEVER AGAIN)
KRISH
As soon as I exited the cab in Austria, the gravity of my actions during the Singapore operation hit me like a heavy burden. No longer was I operating in the blind chaos of life-or-death decisions. Now, I would have to answer for my conduct—not just to the chain of command, but to the one man whose approval mattered the most—my father.
My father’s summons had come through official channels, as expected, but the underlying message was crystal clear. It was time for me to face the ultimate debrief on why I had deviated so profoundly from the mission protocols. Why I had chosen to kill our prime asset—the drug cartel kingpin, Ron, in order to extract Trisha.
Exhaustion dragged at my every muscle as I made my way across the GLEN compound toward the central administration building. Ayaan had insisted on joining me, believing he could advocate for my perspective when facing my father’s withering judgment. It was kind of him to even want to do so, but I knew it would prove fruitless in the end.
“They’re going to bench you over this, you realise that, don’t you?” he muttered under his breath as we approached the inner sanctum. “Probably suspend you on administrative leave until the heat cools off.”
I shrugged, numb to the idea of any impendingpunishments. “If that’s the call, so be it.”
Ayaan shot me an appraising look from the corner of his eye. “And you’re just... okay with that? Taking the hit without arguing your case?”
“What’s there to argue?” The words tasted like ash on my tongue. “I knew the stakes going into it, knew there would be consequences for my choice. Doesn’t change the fact that I’d make the same call again in a heartbeat, Ayaan. I don’t care if he suspends me, but it’s high time I tell him that the protocols need to be changed.”
Ayaan said nothing more as we reached the inner doors leading to my father’s office. As director-in-chief, Ayaan had already spoken to my father and debriefed him about what happened in Singapore, and now was the time to address my side. Dad wanted to speak with me privately.
I met Ayaan’s worried frown with a curt nod, conveying both my understanding and my gratitude for his support. Whatever happened next, I would face it alone.
The door sealed shut behind me as I turned to face the lone figure settled behind the expansive desk, hands clasped together as he scrutinised me with narrowed eyes.
“This is the day I’ve feared my entire life,” Dad began, the words said with bitter disappointment. “The day when my own son would willfully violate my organisation’s most sacred protocols.”
My throat bobbed with a swallow, but I held his cold stare in silence.
“I’ve already heard Director Shergill’s account of theevents,” he went on, jaw clenching around the admission. “He tried to absolve you of any wrongdoing, to justify your reckless actions. But do you have anything to say in your own defence?”
The question hung between us, laden with subtext. This was the opening invitation to attempt rationalising my behaviour and wave off the disciplinary actions. Part of me wanted to seize it, to articulate every justification that had forced me to take the kill shot on Ron.
However, the part of me that felt tired and resigned couldn’t come up with any good reasons. Especially when the truth was simply that I took the shot to save the woman I loved.
“No, Sir,” I heard myself murmur. “I don’t.”
All the fight seemed to bleed out of my father then, as his shoulders sagged subtly. “Very well,” he said in a tone carved from steel. “In that case, you are hereby suspended from all duties and operations of GLEN for no less than three months, effective immediately.”
My jaw clenched hard, but I managed a terse nod of acknowledgment. The punishment was more than fair, possibly even lenient, compared to what could have been levied.
“Take this time to reflect long and hard,” Dad went on. “Think carefully about the impact of letting personal relationships affect your decision-making in such important missions. Once you’ve gained some clarity, we can talk about what comes next for you.”
“I don’t regret my actions,” I rasped through gritted teeth. “Nor do I regret the reasons behind them.”
That, at last, seemed to rattle my father’s legendary composure. He rocked back in his seat, eyebrows shooting upward in naked surprise. “You... don’t regret putting the entire operation at risk?” he sputtered. “Risking years of work to dismantle the drug cartel, just for the sake of one asset?”
“Trisha is more than just some asset to be written off as an acceptable loss,” I countered. “She is an integral part of the unit, a living, breathing member of my team whose life was in danger through no fault of her own.”
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the desk between us as I struggled to show the reason driving my decisions.
“As an integral part of this organisation, I believe I have the right to propose a change in our protocols. Our agents put their lives on the line in the field, facing injury, abduction, and even death. Yet, they never hesitate to carry out their missions. It should be our priority to protect them whenever possible, rather than allowing them to die before our eyes as if their lives mean nothing.”
Dad listened in silence as I continued.
