Interrogation in Camouflage

The grey-walled military classroom felt colder than usual, despite the mild warmth outside. Rows of empty desks sat like silent spectators, but today, the room would witness more than just drills or strategy lectures.

Kiaan Verma stood at the front, leaning against the desk with arms crossed, eyes locked on the door. His tone was calm, but his mind was razor-sharp. Rehaan, stationed just outside, gave a silent signal—two fingers near his cap brim—and nodded toward the first cadet.

"Zid," Kiaan said under his breath, without turning. "You know military-style psychological interrogation, right?"

Zid glanced sideways at him with a short smirk. "You mean the friendly-twist method? Make them think they're talking to a pal while their soul gets sliced open? Been trained. Used it in missions where confessions were worth lives."

Kiaan nodded. "Good. We're not barking orders here. These kids are trained to resist pressure. But they aren't ready for soft traps. You'll take one. I'll take one. Rehaan, when the third walks in—he's yours. Make it casual, like catching up with a teammate. But keep the blade under the glove."

Zid's eyes gleamed with something more than amusement—this was his playground now.

---

The first boy walked in stiffly. His name-tag read Aryan. Face straight. Eyes forward. But his hands twitched near his sides—tiny micro-tremors.

Kiaan smiled lightly. "At ease, Aryan. Sit. This isn't a drill."

Aryan sat cautiously, legs straight, spine locked.

"How long you been on base?" Kiaan asked, tone friendly, flipping a pen between his fingers.

"Two years, sir."

"So, you were here when that youth seminar happened, huh?"

Aryan hesitated. "Yes, sir."

"Anything strange that day?"

"No, sir."

Kiaan leaned in, lowering his voice, like a secret between old friends. "Weird how Maya Bishop ended up dead. You remember her, don't you?"

A flicker in Aryan's eyes.

Kiaan didn't press—yet.

"You know what scares me, Aryan?" he asked, voice dipping into softness. "It's not war. Not bullets. It's that sometimes, the enemy sits beside us. Breathes our air. Wears our uniform."

Aryan's throat bobbed. Sweat dotted his forehead.

Kiaan's pen stopped flipping. "You saw something, didn't you?"

Silence.

"Not asking you to snitch. Just... tell me what didn't feel right that day."

Aryan's voice barely cracked. "There was… a man. Civilian. He wasn't part of the military team. No badge. Just... watching the seminar. He talked to a few boys. I saw him take three aside. I was one of them."

Kiaan's eyes sharpened.

---

Zid had his boy.

Vihaan walked in tall, strong, confident—but that confidence was paper-thin under Zid's gaze.

"Relax, brother," Zid said, tossing a ball gently up and down in his hand. "No one's hanging medals or stripping badges. We're just talking. Like in the barracks."

Vihaan nodded. "Understood."

Zid offered a slight grin. "You ever get weird vibes from higher-ups during special events? Like… maybe a guest wasn't supposed to be there?"

Vihaan blinked. "That seminar, you mean?"

Zid didn't answer. He just threw the ball once more. Waited.

Vihaan exhaled. "I didn't talk to that man. But he stared at me. For long. It wasn't casual. Like he knew me."

Zid's tone dropped. "Describe him."

"Late 30s. Black gloves. Scar under his left eye. Pale."

Zid leaned forward, his smirk gone. "You just gave us more than a month's investigation could. Good job."

Vihaan looked uncertain, but he nodded, gripping the edge of his seat tighter.

---

Rehaan had the boy seated at the back of the room.

He didn't ask questions right away. Instead, he dropped a chocolate bar on the table between them.

"Hungry?"

Nikhil looked confused. Then took it. "Thanks."

Rehaan shrugged. "Seminar was long ago, yeah? You ever think about it?"

Nikhil chewed slowly, eyes avoiding Rehaan's. "Sometimes."

"What's your gut say? That man who watched—was he just there for fun?"

Nikhil fumbled his chocolate, catching it clumsily. "No… he made me nervous. He said something weird."

Rehaan leaned in. "What?"

"He said... 'You'll be dancing soon too.' I thought he was joking."

Rehaan's entire demeanor shifted. Calm melted into ice. He stood and immediately left the room to report to Kiaan.

---

Kiaan, Zid, and Rehaan regrouped outside the classroom, their faces grim now.

"We've got a physical description, behavioral pattern, and direct contact," Rehaan said.

Zid crossed his arms. "This guy was inside the military walls. That means one of two things—he was invited, or he forged access."

Kiaan's eyes narrowed. "Which means either a mole… or someone much higher up than we expected."

He looked out toward the parade ground, the military drills still echoing in the distance.

"This killer isn't random," he said. "He's selecting. Grooming. Watching. And it started right here."

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