#08 : DOGS DON'T DIE QUIETLY
There are only two kinds of wars—ones you're ready for, and ones that bury you.
---
CRIMSON FANGS HIDEOUT
23:46 HRS
I lit a cigarette.
Didn't even realise my hands were shaking until the flame flickered against my knuckles.
Yash was pacing. Meena was staring at the monitors like she was trying to kill them with her eyes.
Danny stood near the back, silent, holding his toolkit like it was a weapon.
Something was off.
We hadn't heard from Vijay in over an hour.
And he wasn't the type to go quiet.
---
"Say it again," I said, my voice calm but sharp.
Meena exhaled. "The White Serpents aren't a single crew. They're fractured into three separate affiliates—three different operational zones. Each one with its own infrastructure, supply chains, personnel, and… leadership."
"Leadership?" I asked.
"Executives," she confirmed. "Each affiliate reports to one. The one in Kurla West—the warehouse Vijay attacked—is the third affiliate. The most brutal, least subtle, and most isolated."
Yash slammed his fist on the table. "So Vijay walked straight into the hornet's nest."
I nodded once, slowly. "Alone."
Danny finally spoke, voice low. "We should've stopped him."
No one replied.
Because we all knew the truth.
We didn't stop him because we were scared.
Not scared of the Serpents.
Scared of Vijay—of what he'd become since his sister died.
---
Meena pulled up a satellite feed. Grainy thermal imaging of the warehouse block.
Movement.
Dozens of heat signatures.
Too many.
She highlighted a blip. "Here. That's him. Still alive."
"How can you tell?"
She zoomed in.
"Because every single other heat signature around him is moving away."
---
I crushed the cigarette with my boot.
Then turned to the others.
"Gear up."
Danny blinked. "Wait—what are we doing?"
"What we should've done hours ago," I said. "We're going to bring him back."
Yash grinned, already strapping on his vest. "Now we're talking."
Fifteen men in total. Recruits. Veterans. Every Fang I could trust.
We weren't going in like heroes.
We were going in like killers.
And Meena would be our eyes from the den.
---
EN ROUTE TO KURLA WEST
00:41 HRS
It was raining.
Of course it was.
Danny was behind the wheel of the blacked-out van, quiet but focused. Meena fed us updates through the comms.
"Third affiliate has a kill-zone perimeter. Cameras on the east tower are offline. That's your blindspot."
"Understood," I said.
Yash loaded his sidearm with a click. "What's the plan?"
"Breach through the south wall. You and I take point. Split the squad in two. First group extracts Vijay. Second group clears path to escape. No hero shit. In and out."
Danny snorted. "Sounds too clean."
I didn't argue.
Because he was right.
---
THIRD AFFILIATE COMPOUND – SOUTH WALL
01:08 HRS
The first guard never saw me coming.
One stab. One twist. One body down.
The second made a sound.
He died louder.
We moved fast—Fangs were disciplined, sharper than ever.
Inside the compound, it was chaos.
Blood. Smoke. Limbs. Crates overturned.
And in the centre, half-conscious but still breathing—
Vijay.
He was tied to a steel beam like a dog, eyes barely open, bleeding from half a dozen places.
"Bro," Yash whispered.
"Cut him loose."
---
That's when the lights went out.
All of them.
A hum filled the air.
Then a click.
A spotlight burst to life above the rafters.
Illuminating a lone figure standing above us, hands in pockets.
Smiling like the devil himself.
Raaka.
---
"I was wondering when you'd show up," he said, voice echoing through the chamber.
"You think I didn't plan for this?"
I stepped forward. "You think we care?"
Raaka shrugged. "No. But I think your squad should."
The floor exploded.
A metal net dropped from the ceiling, catching two of my men. One of the crates we passed was rigged—detonated in a flashbang that sent half our team staggering.
Automatic gunfire from the rafters.
I pulled Yash behind cover.
Vijay groaned on the floor, barely conscious.
Raaka's voice came again. Calm. Precise. Clinical.
"You think violence makes you strong, Amit? That brute force will win this war?"
"I don't need to win," I said, eyes locked on him.
"I just need to hurt you bad enough that you remember who we are."
---
"Then let's play," Raaka smiled.
He jumped.
A clean drop. Ten feet. No stumble.
He came at me fast—strikes clean, deliberate. Not wild like street thugs.
He wasn't just strong. He was trained.
I barely blocked his punch. He parried my counter with ease.
Steel to bone.
Our fists were speaking a language most men forgot.
I got a shot in—his lip split.
He smiled wider.
Yash joined the fight, but Raaka spun, grabbed him mid-lunge, and slammed his back against a crate.
Hard.
I swung again, this time with my knife.
He dodged.
Grabbed my wrist.
Twisted.
I gritted my teeth, refusing to scream.
---
But then Danny…
Did something none of us expected.
He rolled out of the van parked near the entrance, opened the trunk, and pulled out his baby—a modified, prototype-level pump shotgun with a rotating cylinder.
Custom-built.
Illegal as hell.
And loud.
He aimed.
"RAAKA!"
And fired.
The blast hit Raaka dead in the chest—sent him crashing into the metal shelving.
Dust everywhere.
I ran to Vijay.
He was slipping in and out of consciousness.
"Stay with me, We've got you."
More Serpents were coming from the upper levels. Meena's voice screamed through the comms:
"GET OUT NOW! More reinforcements inbound. Thirty-plus targets. You won't survive if you stay."
---
Yash pulled Vijay onto his shoulder.
Danny covered the exit with another blast, gritting his teeth.
I dragged one of our injured men with me, heart pounding.
We burst out the west gate—vehicles ready.
But just before we got in—
A sharp click.
Raaka.
Standing. Bleeding. But smiling.
He held a detonator.
And a phone.
"Just so you know," he said.
"This war? It started the moment you walked in."
He pressed the button.
---
BOOM.
The entire third affiliate compound ignited in a chain explosion.
Our van flipped.
Dust. Smoke. Screams.
Flames lit the Mumbai sky.
The Crimson Fangs had drawn blood.
But so had the Serpents.
---
TO BE CONTINUED