DJ sat in darkness. Helmet eyes glowing faint red.
"Impossible?" he said. "Let's find out."
The bike hummed awake.
Lights flared around him as he rolled out of hiding and into a tunnel—wide, clean, freshly lit. One of the money trucks had passed through minutes ago.
DJ twisted the throttle.
As he accelerated, the tunnel lights behind him snapped off.
Ahead—dark.
Behind—dark.
Lights flickered back on only after he passed, like the tunnel itself forgot he existed.
Cars ahead crackled with radio static. Drivers cursed. Lights blinked. Then—normal again.
Too fast to question, making him wonder if it was his illusion.
DJ watched the HUD map slide closer.
Caravan in range.
The tunnel lights over the convoy died.
Now.
DJ tapped a button.
"Little Red, go," Rony said.
A small red disk shot from the bike, skipped once, magnetized itself to the truck's rear.
DJ didn't slow. Didn't look back.
Inside the truck, the disk glowed. Spun in his place. Burned.
Metal peeled open silently as it drilled through the container wall.
A guard leaned out his window, heart racing. He'd seen a blur. A glow. Then nothing. Lights came back. Convoy still moving.
"Must be the wiring," he muttered.
DJ took the next exit, dove into a subway tunnel, then burst back into open air.
City lights ahead.
"The closest truck is on the bypass," Rony said. "Then the highway one. Keep stealth.
Drop Little Red. In and out to the next, the city one we might be in trouble."
No reply.
"DJ?"
Pause.
"Hey. You there?"
"Yeah," DJ said. "Thinking."
"About what?"
"Going public."
Silence.
"…Going public?" Rony said. "You're joking right?"
"No."
"DJ, no—are you insane? You said you wanted out. Done. Finished."
"I did," DJ said. Then softer, "I don't know anymore." Complicatiion and undisision filled his face.
Rony exhaled. Thought fast " This guy." And he clicked some buttons. "Huh. Weird. My signal blocker just… shut off, maybe there is a technical issue."
DJ smiled under the helmet.
The bike's dampeners cut.
The engine roared.
Sound tore through the street like an animal.
Cameras snapped on. Sensors screamed. A black and red blur with glowing eyes ripped through feeds.
Police caught it first, they informed higher authorities. Higher authorities informed the command center. The command center informed the commissioner. And the commissioner blocked this news, and informed someone else.
Roy's office phone rang.
He paused mid-sip. "Where's John?"
Across the city, DJ hit the highway convoy.
The last guard car heard him before they saw him.
"What the—"
DJ blasted past them.
"Madman," someone said, annoyed.
Rony's voice stayed calm. "Tire punchers. Go."
Spiked balls scattered behind the bike scattering like legos.
A truck's tires came into contact, it exploded.
The trailer fishtailed. Rolled.
A security car slammed into it. Metal screamed. Everything stopped behind them.
"Will they be okay?" DJ asked.
"..OF COURSE …Probably," Rony said. Then quieter, "maybe."
Ahead, guards in the car realised what was happening, and raised guns.
"EMP," Rony said.
DJ pointed.
The electric cars died instantly. Skidded.
Crashed.
DJ surged forward.
"Energy blast."
Two blue-white bolts ripped the rear wheels off the next truck.
Bullets hit DJ. Sparks danced off the helmet and bike, armour just slightly glowed.
"Again."
Both security cars lifted, flipped, smashed down behind him.
DJ glanced back.
"Don't worry, don't worry. I'll call ambulances," Rony said quickly.
The last truck stood alone.
Money inside. Open road ahead, ready to taken.
"You sure you don't want to grab it?" Rony asked.
DJ didn't answer.
" It's thirty billion in Swiss currency." Dj didn't react.
He accelerated, cut in front of the truck. The driver panicked. Swerved. Tried to run him down.
DJ slipped aside easily. The driver was trying to be slick there.
"Let's test something," Rony said, excitement creeping in.
A small device unfolded onto DJ's gauntlet. Two glowing red eyes.
DJ glanced at it, recognizing
immediately. "That's…isn't it the laser?"
"Yep."
"You tested it?"
"…Define tested, it's practical testing."
DJ sighed. "We're outside city limits. Fine."
He aimed.
"Laser eyes. Go."
A condensed red beam exploded forward, stardeling Dj.
He jerked in surprise. The beam tilted.
It sliced through the container.
Through the road.
Through a billboard.
The truck split. The asphalt cracked. Money burst out, burning as it scattered.
Something massive slammed into the ground behind them.
DJ stared. "That's… not okay, That's DANGEROUS ?"
"They'll be fine," Rony said, very fast. "Move. One truck left."
DJ nodded.
He left the scorched highway behind and dove back into the city.
And by now, everyone knew it.
Police.
CBI.
Army.
And for some reason, the FBI!
News channels were screaming over each other, and the DJ didn't know that.
And Roy.
He stood by the window, a report file open in his hand, eyes not really reading. His secretary spoke anyway..
"Mr. John hasn't returned, sir. His phone is unreachable." She swallowed. "The bypass cargo has been vandalized by the masked attacker. The tunnel convoy is attempting to secure the shipment. ETA fifteen minutes. City route will take longer."
Roy didn't look at her. "The cargo," he said calmly. "Status."
"Police are moving to seize it, sir. But the containers are badly damaged."
"Send our team to the crash site before them"
"Yes, sir. But—there's a chance police may obtain footage."
"Delete it, change it, don't let what's in cargo out."
She nodded quickly.
"Recall the bypass truck. Reinforce the city one." She checked again.
"And the attacker?"
She scrolled through images—blurred frames, glowing eyes, fire.
"He's heading toward the city route. Police have barricaded the roads. They believe they'll capture him."
Roy exhaled through his nose. "Plan changed. Tell the bypass truck to return here. Get me updates on John."
She turned to leave.
"Wait." Roy's voice stopped her.
"Give me a phone."
-----
In the city, barricades stretched across the road like scars.
Police vans. Armed response teams. New uniforms that still creased when they moved.
One of them, a little careless one, leaned on his rifle. "For a small-time thief and murderer, this feels like too much."
Another snorted. "The guys he killed weren't small. The news and Commissioner's watching this personally."
"Yeah, yeah," the first one said. "How hard can it be to—"
A blur ripped past them.
Caps flew. Papers scattered.
"What the—"
Radios crackled at once.
"He's there! He just passed your location—catch him!"
The same cop grabbed his radio, panic leaking into his voice. "Sir, he—he left."
"What do you mean he left? What were you doing?"
"Sir… Or kab aaya, or kab gaya, pata hi nahi chala."
Swearing exploded over the channel.
"Follow him! Now!"
Cars screeched into motion. Sirens tore the air.
DJ rolled into the city and eased off the throttle.
Too quiet.
Empty roads. Closed shops. Shutters down.
"Why's it dead, where is everyone?" he asked.
Rony didn't answer right away.
"Because," he said slowly, "apparently there's a dangerous terrorist on the loose. Armed and ready."
DJ frowned. "Who?"
Rony sighed. "You. Apparently. They're talking about you. Idiot."
"What?" DJ barked. "Terrorist? Since when?"
" This morning," Rony said. "Also… that laser thing? Maybe it was a bit overkill."
DJ's visor lit up with a news feed. Live. Burning truck. Split road. Red beam scars.
Then the camera shifted.
A helicopter. Locking onto him.
" They have an Apache helicopter." both said in unison.
"Rony," DJ said loudly. " When did they have an APACHE HELICOPTER?"
"That's not an Apache," Rony said
automatically.
"This is not the time," DJ snapped. "He's on five." Heard dj on radio.
From the sky, a voice boomed. "Surrender immediately Mask individual. You have ten seconds before we open fire ."
"RONY. do something! I'm about to be shot to death by an Apache helicopter" DJ yelled.
Rony muttered, "You should've thought about this before going public." He said to himself, and then answered his question.
" I can take down the helicopter."
"No shooting," DJ said. "I'm not hurting civilians."
"Innocent people who are about to fire missiles at you?" Rony shot back.
"Four," the voice counted.
" Anything else."
" One," And the bullets on the barrel of the helicopter opened fire. The bullet made a v-line for him and several bullets hit him, hit his armour making a slight orange glow, and did no damage. He panicked.
" Anything?" And Rony yelled in a hurry.
"Left. Now,"
DJ swerved hard into a narrow gully.
The helicopter overshot. Police cars skidded, stuck too wide to follow.
DJ bounced through broken pavement, nearly clipping walls.
"Okay," he breathed. "Good. What's next?"
Rony pulled up the map.
Then paused.
"…There's a problem."
DJ groaned. "What now?"
"The truck is heading into a… peculiar location."
"Which is?" Rony paused.
"…The Commissioner's residence."
DJ blinked. "You're kidding."
"Big compound. Crowd. Security everywhere.. And if the huge nameplate with the police commissioner wasn't clear enough."
DJ stared ahead. "Then we get there first."
Rony laughed once, sharp. "Half the Mumbai Police is already there. And the other half is following the truck you are after. Maybe we should give up. We have already destroyed one, and caught one in the field. In total it's about sixty to seventy billion in cash. Enough to make you the second richest person in India. Losing this much will hurt anyone, it's enough."
Silence. Than DJ chuckled.
" It's enough. But nothing is enough, I want to end it. End it all."
Silence fell again. Longer, louder if that was possible.
" So what now?" Asked Rony.
" Things won't gonna happen, we still have half the police left to deal with, you don't forget that do you?"
Silence, yeah again.
" Say it." Said DJ, his eyes closed.
Rong finally said it. "You didn't think this through."
"Yeah," Dj said. "I noticed that."
Another pause.
"Regretting it?" Rony asked.
DJ shook his head. "No. But—" He hesitated.
"Rony. You've got something, don't you?"
Rony didn't answer immediately.
"…I do."
DJ sighed. "I'm not gonna like it."
"No," Rony admitted. "But it'll be harmless."
Beat.
"Mostly."
DJ closed his eyes. "I'm going to regret this."
"Probably," Rony said under his breath.
Across the city, the last truck rolled forward, boxed in by police cars, blue lights washing over its steel sides.
Everything was secure.
Unless someone decided otherwise. And that someone has really had something in mind.