CHAPTER - 1: TO THE HUNTSVILLE
The United Nations had created its own specialized crime branch: the United Nations Investigation, or UNI. Unlike any ordinary law enforcement agency, UNI handled the cases that no other organization could solve—cases that were often international in scope and complexity.
Within UNI, officers were ranked according to their experience and responsibilities, divided into five distinct tiers:
At the base of the hierarchy were the Junior Officers. These officers worked under the direct supervision of a Head Officer and were responsible for assisting with investigations, gathering evidence, and performing on-site tasks. Though the lowest in rank, they formed the backbone of the organization's field operations.
Above them stood the Head Officers. These officers led cases on the ground, overseeing the investigation firsthand and managing all mission operations at the crime scene. They were the primary decision-makers during field missions, directing teams and ensuring that every lead was followed meticulously.
The next tier was the Top Officer, a strategist and coordinator. This officer did not operate on the field directly but instead determined which officers would be assigned to which cases, pairing personnel with missions according to their skills and strengths.
Above the Top Officer was the Judician, the head of UNI in a specific country. Judicians oversaw all operations within their jurisdiction, ensuring the organization functioned smoothly and maintained its integrity.
At the pinnacle of the hierarchy was the Head Judician, the ultimate authority within UNI. Selected through a vote among all Judicians worldwide, the Head Judician held the majority decision and also served as a member of the United Nations itself, bridging the gap between global governance and law enforcement.
Each rank, each officer, and each decision played a crucial role in UNI's mission: to bring justice where all others had failed.
All officers at the United Nations Investigation were trained to perfection—intelligent, disciplined, and careful in every mission. Every move they made was calculated, every decision precise. Mistakes were rare, almost unheard of.
Almost.
Because there was one exception.
Rehan Haq, a 27-year-old Head Officer, strode through the lobby of UNI's London headquarters like he owned the place. Part American, part Indian, he carried himself with an effortless confidence, bordering on recklessness. The polished floors reflected his boots with a faint echo, each step punctuating the calm of the otherwise meticulous lobby.
He approached the grand doorway of the Head judician's office, eyes scanning the engraved letters above the frame. He raised his hand and knocked.
"Can I come in?"
From inside came a gruff voice, heavy with surprise.
"Who is it?"
Rehan smirked.
"Your loved one."
After a pause, the voice softened, tinged with amusement.
"Ah… come in."
As Rehan stepped inside, the air seemed to shift, subtle tension threading through the room. Even in an organization like UNI, where order ruled every inch, Rehan's presence had a way of bending the rules—and bending reality itself.
Rehan leaned slightly forward, hands resting on the edge of the desk.
"So," he asked calmly, "what did you call me here for?"
The Head Judician studied him for a moment before speaking.
"See, Rehan… you are a good man. You know that, right?"
He paused, then continued, "So tell me—will you go to Canada?"
Rehan frowned.
"Canada? Why?"
The Head Judician exhaled slowly.
"The Judician there has been requesting again and again that you be sent to solve a case. I've been refusing, but they keep pushing. That's why… you'll have to go."
Rehan shook his head instantly.
"No. I'm not going."
"I don't want to send you either," the Head Judician replied, his tone firm. "But they're insisting. You have to go, Rehan."
"I said I don't want to."
The Head Judician leaned back in his chair.
"I understand. And you should think about this too—why would I send someone like you?"
Rehan's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean, someone like me?"
"Every mission you go on," the Head Judician said bluntly, "you return after creating some kind of mess."
Rehan scoffed.
"When did I ever mess up?"
"Your last mission," the Head Judician replied sharply. "You killed six people. And when asked why, what was your answer? Self-defense. All six—self-defense."
Rehan shrugged.
"Because it was self-defense."
The Head Judician's voice hardened.
"In what kind of self-defense do six people die?"
Rehan replied without hesitation,
"Sir, that's called extreme self-defense."
The Head Judician stared at him.
"Do you think we're fools?"
"No, sir. Absolutely not."
"What?"
"I'm saying—absolutely not."
The Head Judician waved his hand dismissively.
"Whatever it is, you have to go."
Rehan shook his head again.
"No."
The Head Judician leaned forward, his voice final and cold.
"I said—you have to go."
The hum of the engines filled the cabin as the plane taxied down the runway. Rehan sat back in his first-class seat, cap pulled low over his eyes and headphones snugly in place. Outside, the city lights of London blurred into streaks as the aircraft prepared to lift into the night sky.
A crisp, professional voice came over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are ready for takeoff. Please make sure your seatbelts are securely fastened, your tray tables are up, and all electronic devices are in airplane mode. Thank you for flying with us, and enjoy your flight."
Rehan didn't bother looking up. His eyes were hidden beneath the cap, and music drowned out most of the cabin's chatter.
(Inner thoughts)
"Man… I was supposed to be heading to Japan. That would have been fun… cruising high above the clouds, soaking it all in. But no… the old man had to insist on Canada. Now here I am, shivering in Huntsville's freezing weather. Ah, that old man…"
He leaned back, letting out a dry chuckle, letting the hum of the engines and the drone of the intercom lull him into a lazy rhythm as the plane climbed higher into the night sky.
The plane had finally touched down at Toronto Pearson International Airport, its wheels skimming over the runway as the engines wound down. Rehan stepped out into the brisk Canadian air, tugging at his cap and pulling his headphones off, only to be greeted by… this.
A man stood just outside the terminal, holding a large banner that read, "Rehan Haq, here."
Rehan squinted, his lips twitching in disbelief.
(Inner thoughts)
"Who the hell is this guy…? And who the hell sent him?!"
Without thinking, Rehan sprinted toward the man, each step brimming with impatience.
"Hey! Leave it!" he barked.
The man flinched, gripping the banner tighter.
"Why, sir? What's the matter?"
"I said—leave it!" Rehan repeated, frustration lacing his tone.
The man blinked.
"Who are you, sir, telling me what to do?"
Rehan exhaled sharply.
"I'm Rehan Haq!"
Recognition flickered in the man's eyes.
"Oh! Sorry, sir… but please, tell me your name?"
"I just told you—I'm Rehan."
"No, sir, I mean your… um… code name?" the man prompted nervously.
Rehan's eyes narrowed.
"Code name?"
"Yes, sir!"
"I'm not saying it," Rehan muttered, crossing his arms.
"But if you are Rehan Haq, then please… say it!" the man insisted.
"No, I'm not saying this," Rehan shot back.
"Then… you are not Rehan Haq?"
"I am Rehan," he said firmly, voice sharp.
"Then say it!" the man urged.
Rehan groaned, throwing his hands up.
"Ah, fine. I'm saying it… Psycho."
The man grinned, visibly relieved.
"Yes! Now I know—you're the real one!"
Rehan groaned, waving him off.
"Just… shut up."
The car sped smoothly along the highway, Toronto slowly fading behind them. The man drove with focused precision, hands steady on the wheel, while Rehan lounged in the back seat, one arm resting casually on the door, eyes half-lidded.
After a moment of silence, Rehan spoke.
"By the way… what's your name?"
"Sir… Albert," the man replied reluctantly.
Rehan raised an eyebrow.
"Einstein?"
"No, sir. Hawk," he corrected quickly.
Rehan sighed.
"Tell your parents to change your name."
Albert blinked, puzzled.
"Why, sir?"
"Because you're insulting Einstein," Rehan said flatly.
"Sir… what did I do?"
"Who stands outside an airport holding a banner like that?" Rehan snapped.
The man hesitated.
"I thought… how else would you find me?"
Rehan leaned back, unimpressed.
"You do know we could've booked a cab, right?"
"Sorry, sir," he muttered.
Rehan waved him off.
"Yeah, fine. Anyway—tell me something."
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you know what the case is about?"
The man nodded slowly.
"Not fully, sir. But yes… There is a girl. She's under suspicion."
Rehan's eyes opened fully.
"A girl? Why?"
"Because everyone who has gone missing had met her before disappearing," he explained.
Rehan tilted his head.
"Oh. So what does this girl do?"
"She's a teacher, sir. Works at a school in Huntsville," the man replied.
"A teacher…", Rehan murmured.
He glanced at the man.
"Sir… didn't you read the case file we sent you?"
"No, I kept it at home and forgot about it," Rehan admitted casually.
The man tightened his grip on the wheel, clearly worried about Rehan's style.
A few minutes into the drive, Rehan leaned back, eyes on the man at the wheel.
"You know… you can drive a car fast, right?" he asked, voice dripping with mockery.
The man nodded nervously.
"Yes, sir… I know."
Rehan's smirk widened.
"Then… do it!"
The car inched forward at a painfully slow pace. Rehan groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Yes… technically, you're driving," he muttered under his breath, "but are we going to Huntsville this century or next?"
The man tightened his grip on the wheel, desperately trying to pick up speed, while Rehan just leaned back, arms crossed, smirking.
A few minutes later, Rehan leaned back in the seat, glancing at the man beside him.
"By the way… where are you from?" he asked casually.
"Sir… from Canada," the man replied.
Rehan raised an eyebrow.
"Then why is your name Albert? I mean… Albert isn't exactly a Canadian name."
The man hesitated, then said,
"Yes, sir, Albert is a German name. But… My father really liked Albert Einstein, so he named me that."
Rehan blinked, then smirked.
"Oh… okay. So, what's your father's name?"
"Sir… Tesla," the man said proudly.
Rehan's jaw dropped.
"What?! You're joking, right?"
The man shook his head.
"No, sir. Actually… My grandfather was a huge fan of Tesla. Because of him, my father became interested in Einstein… and that's why I ended up being named Albert."
Rehan leaned back, rubbing his forehead, muttering under his breath,
"Of course… makes perfect sense."
After a brief silence, Rehan spoke again, his tone casual.
"By the way… do you have a girlfriend?"
The man stiffened slightly.
"No, sir."
Rehan glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
"Why? You don't like anyone?"
"No, sir… it's not that," he said awkwardly. "I just… don't know how to talk to girls."
Rehan scoffed.
"Why do you need to talk to them? Trust me—girls would want to talk to you. Look at you, man. You're pretty handsome."
The man smiled shyly, lowering his gaze.
"Heh… thanks, sir."
Rehan continued,
"But still, if you don't know how to talk to people… I mean, you're in UNI. You should know how to talk, right?"
The man nodded slowly.
"Yes, sir, I should. But the thing is… I was recruited into UNI strictly for crime investigation. I don't get cases that involve people like that… or situations where I have to talk to women."
"Oh," Rehan said, understanding.
After a pause, the man asked carefully,
"Sir… Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No. I don't," Rehan replied.
The man looked surprised.
"But sir, you look good too. Then why don't you?"
Rehan let out a dry breath.
"Because I don't want to be in a relationship. Life's peaceful this way. Why take on someone else's burden?"
The man hesitated.
"Sir… can I say something?"
"Say it."
"You seem… careless."
Rehan smirked.
"Yeah. Everyone says that."
The man gathered some courage.
"Sir… you must've had a girlfriend in the past, right?"
Rehan's expression didn't change.
"Yeah. I did."
"What happened then?"
"Nothing," Rehan said flatly. "I broke up."
"Why?"
Rehan looked out the window, his voice calm—too calm.
"Because I was only in that relationship for a mission. Once the mission was over… I left her."
The car grew quiet after that.
— — — — TO BE CONTINUED — — — —
CHAPTER - 1 PART - 2
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