The Woman Who Holds the Key

A thin fog hung low over Lembang that morning.The air was sharp and biting, but colder still was the silence that greeted Ari as he pulled up to the unnamed lodge.

It looked like a forgotten colonial-era house. Weather-worn, chipped paint, vines creeping over its walls.But a dim light flickered in the attic window—proof that someone was still inside.Or being kept inside.

Ari wore a dark hoodie and a medical mask. He moved slowly down the gravel path to the front door.No bell. Just a dusty plaque with faded numbers: "23-B."

He knocked three times.One second. Two. Five. No answer.

But above him, a small hidden camera pivoted silently.Someone was watching.

Then the door creaked open—just a crack.

A pair of sharp, wary eyes stared back.

Then a woman's voice, low and trembling:

"Are you one of them?"

Ari replied without hesitation.

"If I were, you wouldn't have had time to ask."

Silence.

Then the door opened wider.

She stood barefoot in the entryway, her hair tied messily back, wearing an oversized, faded sweater.Her face was young—but worn.Like someone who had survived too many nights with her heart in her throat.

Nadine Salma.

Inside, the walls were covered with notes—taped to glass, doors, even the floor. Patterns. Sketches. Names connected by thread.It wasn't just a safehouse.

It was a war room.

"Three people have come here," Nadine said flatly. "One claimed to be a journalist. Two said they were from legal enforcement.But you're the only one who showed up with nothing but fast breath and terrified eyes."

Ari pulled out a chair. Sat slowly.

"Because I'm not here to investigate," he said."I'm here to survive."

Nadine watched him carefully. Then moved to a small steel cabinet in the corner.She turned a hidden combination lock and pulled out a worn folder.

Stamped across the top:

"PPI — Internal Witness Protocols (CONFIDENTIAL)"

"This," she said, "is proof that every witness in your case has been tracked from the beginning.Even before you knew the case existed."

Ari opened the first page—A still frame of himself, captured from a hospital CCTV camera... taken three weeks before he even knew the case name.

Then a list.

Every witness now "missing."All crossed out.

Except one.

Nadine Salma.

She was the last.

And if she disappeared...The truth would disappear with her.

Suddenly, the lights flickered.Then—went dark.

A distant alarm rang out from the back of the house.

Someone was inside.

Nadine pulled Ari beneath the table. Her breathing quickened.

"I thought we had more time," she whispered."Turns out, they're already here."

Ari gripped the pen in his jacket pocket.

Not to write.

To fight.

Footsteps.Slow. Deliberate.Getting closer—from the back hallway.

Nadine held her breath, trembling, as she reached beneath the wooden floorboards—pulling out a small satellite phone and an old car key.She handed them to Ari.

"If they catch me… you take this.Go to a place called 'Gudang Arwana.'There's someone there who can restore all the data."

Ari clutched the evidence folder tightly.Then he heard it—a faint scrape outside the window.

They were surrounding the house.

Nadine hit a small switch beneath the table—a soft siren buzzed from the back room.A narrow door slid open behind a bookshelf.

"Through there. An old smuggler's path that leads into the forest.But we have to split up."

Ari looked at her, eyes fierce."You're the last witness. I'm not leaving you behind."

Nadine gave him a bitter smile.

"Ari… they don't need me dead.They need me never found.And if I go with you now, we both disappear."

Suddenly—the front door shook violently.

BANG!Once. Twice.Then—splintered open.

They were inside.

Nadine pushed Ari toward the escape tunnel.

"If you can speak publicly within 72 hours, this can still be turned.But if you hesitate for even one hour… they win."

Ari stepped into the narrow tunnel. Dim light. Cold dirt walls.His breathing was fast—focused.

Just before the hidden door closed behind him, he looked back one last time.

Nadine stood tall.In her hand—a kitchen knife. Not to fight.

To make sure she wouldn't be taken alive.

The door shut. Darkness.

Ari moved forward through the damp tunnel. Behind him—gunshots.Then silence.

Pressed to his chest: the only file left that could bring down a hidden empire.

He knew now...

Every step forward would cost blood. Maybe his own.

To be continued in Chapter 6: The Ones Who Survive and the Ones Who Are Sacrificed

The tunnel was narrow and dark.Ari hunched forward, one hand on the damp wall to keep his balance. The only light came from a dying flashlight, flickering with each shaky step.

The gunshots had stopped.Replaced by silence.

"Please stay alive, Nadine," he whispered.

After nearly fifteen minutes of crawling through the musty escape route, Ari saw a dim glow ahead.Daylight.

The tunnel ended in a thick patch of overgrown bushes near the edge of a pine forest.He pushed through, squinting into the soft glare of early morning light.Birds chirped innocently.Nature felt calm—but Ari knew:The war had already begun.

Not far from the tree line, he spotted it—an old Jeep hidden behind tall grass, paint faded, rear window cracked.He slipped the key Nadine gave him into the ignition.

It worked.The engine roared to life.

In the dashboard compartment, he found a small envelope.Inside: a worn-out paper map...And a micro SD card labeled:

"PPI CORE NETWORK."

This was Nadine's lifeline.Inside were names—of lawyers, prosecutors, judges, journalists, even politicians—tied to the hidden empire.

Releasing this file wouldn't just be a legal move.It would be an act of war.

The satellite phone in Ari's pocket buzzed.A message.

Unknown number.Short. Cold.

"She's still alive.But you only have 68 hours left."

Ari's jaw tightened.

It wasn't a threat.It was a reminder—that they were still watching.Still in control.

For now.

He tucked the memory card and map into his jacket's inner pocket.Then looked down the winding dirt road ahead—quiet, empty, but filled with choices.

"I won't just survive," he said aloud."I'll speak. I'll expose everything."

He turned on the Jeep's old radio. A local station played an old Indonesian song.But then the announcer's voice cut in—casual, neutral:

"Breaking news: An unidentified woman was found unconscious near the Lembang area early this morning.She is in critical but stable condition. No official ID yet."

Nadine.She might have survived.Or she had been "found" to become their final pawn.

Ari stepped on the gas.The Jeep rolled forward into the misty morning light.

Inside, he was no longer just a lawyer.

He was now the witness.And the last shield the truth had.