The Woman With Many Names

A knife flashed in the darkness, slicing a deadly arc toward Sampath's face. Pain exploded, sharp and searing, as his hand flew to his cheek, fingers slick with blood. Terror gripped him, stealing his voice, while the blade lunged again, this time for his gut. Just before it struck, Sampath jolted awake, heart pounding, palm pressed to the scar that still throbbed with phantom pain. Shadows of old trauma circled his mind, whispering of wounds deeper than flesh. He leapt from his chair, the nightmare clinging to him like a fog that refused to let go.

Sampath slid open a drawer and retrieved a strip of tablets, selecting one with the practised precision of someone who had done this countless times. He swallowed it without water. A gentle knock broke the silence, and a woman entered, her presence both soft and commanding. She set a stack of files on the table, her gaze meeting Sampath's with urgency and respect. "Sir, these are the new recruitments. They'll arrive any moment," she announced, her voice unwavering. Sampath remained silent, eyes fixed on the papers, letting a charged hush fill the room. When he finally spoke, his tone was calm but carried a weight that brooked no argument: "Call me when everyone arrives." She nodded and slipped out, her footsteps fading like a whisper.

After leaving Sampath's cabin, she returned to her desk and began reviewing files on her laptop. Soon, a constable entered the office, accompanied by a man and a pregnant woman. Addressing her directly, the constable said, "Ma'am, this man was trying to steal the necklace from the woman." The man said, "No! She's lying. I didn't do anything to her. She's just framing me for no reason." The constable said, "Ma'am, could you call

Sampath sir?" She goes into the cabin & calls him. **Moments later, as the station doors swung open, the mood changed, signalling the entrance of new visitors.** Sampath emerges from the cabin and sits on a desk. The constable brought them in front of him. Constable said, "What happened?" Sampath

Sampath looked at the group and said, "Leave them to me." After a brief hesitation, Spandana approached Sampath and said, "Leave them to me." Spandana hesitated, then stepped forward. "Sir, I think the woman is right. He must have stolen her necklace." Sampath's reply was firm: "Focus on your duties. Clear the area for ten minutes." Spandana obeyed, ushering everyone out. Turning to the woman, Sampath asked, "What's your name?" She shifted, arms wrapping protectively around her belly, every movement betraying her inner turmoil. Her eyes darted around the room before she finally met his gaze. "Sir, I'm Pranathi. I'm 28 and six months pregnant," she said, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. Sampath studied her, then prompted, "So, Pranathi. Tell me what happened." "Yes, Sir, I was on my way to the hospital for a check-up. He snatched my chain, but the police caught him," she replied, her fingers trembling as she clung to her story, gaze fixed on the floor. Sampath gestured for her to sit, and she did so with visible relief. He checked his phone, then approached her and placed a hand on her stomach. "Tell me the truth, Pranathi," he said quietly. She's afraid. He wasn't looking like an officer. He was like a criminal who was

trying to warn her. Sampath saw the stomach and said again, "Tell me! The truth." His voice went deep. Sampath said, "I don't want to hurt your baby." Pranathi said, " Sir, this

is nonsense. You… you're accusing me of chain snatching, and you're also threatening my baby. I'll report this to the higher officials. I'll make you public." Sampath said,

"Really? So, do you accept that you took the chain from another woman?" Pranathi said, "Yes! But you can't do anything. You don't have proof for it." "Sir, you were

"Not near the bus stand," Darshan said. "You accepted it. We are the proof for it," Pranathi said. "I'll just say you bribed him. I'll use the sympathy that I'm pregnant."

Sampath smiled and said, "I know you would reveal it if I threatened you. Mainly your baby." Pranathi said, "What're you gonna do? You've no proof against me." Pranathi was

Pranathi's eyes were widening. Darshan was in shock. Sampath saw a cloth coming out of her dress. He pulled it out once. Her stomach was slowly returning to its standard size.

He laughed and said, 'And also, I recorded the conversation. So, you can't escape.' Pranathi was caught off guard, rrealisingshe could not avoid arrest. Sampath opened the recording app, trimmed the audio file, and sent it to Spandana. As the officers arrived to arrest Pranathi officially, Darshan approached Sampath and asked, 'Sir, but how did you know she was lying?' Sampath replied, 'At first, I noticed she didn't have a hospital file, which was unusual for someone six months pregnant. Then, she appeared excessively focused on holding her stomach, and her tense demeanour stood out to me. When I saw the dummy stomach, my suspicions were confirmed.' Recognising these behavioural patterns, Sampath doubted her account. The police filed the FIR on Pranathi, who accused Sampath of intimidation; however, there was no evidence to support her claim. As the FIR was processed, four new officers—two women and two men—arrived at the station. Sampath paused, allowing the atmosphere to settle while the faint hum of fluorescent lights and fading footsteps emphasised the gathering of the new team.

Sampath said, "You guys are now part of the secret unit of police. Vasuki." Everyone was observing the surroundings. Then, one member among them

. Sampath said, "This is the backup team of the Vasuki division. Everyone here will work as constables. Prints, scans, and secrets—get them done by dawn. Then we'll register the names in the team so you can receive all notifications. Keep everything discreet and ready."

emergency calls & notifications from the team. So, welcome to Vasuki! We'll meet again at the quarter tomorrow at 9:00 ow. By the way, no dress codes! Thank you all!" Sampath paused, allowing a moment for the full gravity of his words to settle in. With a slight grin, he continued, "Remember, tomorrow we find out who truly deserves the badge." With that, he leaves from there and gets into his car. Spandana guided the new members. She told them about the Vasuki.

team. The central government assigned the Vasuki team to handle the typical cases, hostage situations, and serial murders. The people in these units are specially trained for this situation.

We should report the situation as soon as possible. The major cities Hyderabad, Mumbai, Chennai, Delhi, Kolkata, and Bangalore have a separate Vasuki unit. Every Vasuki unit has a principal

officer who directly reports to the city commissioner. From there, the reports will be sent to the higher officials. For this city, Sampath is the principal officer. Spandana explained all this.

to the new members. Then, one member asked, "What about him? How good is he?" Spandana said, "He's really a good officer. Simple. But arrogant, frustrated sometimes. He's really

a good colleague. Also, a nightmare for the criminals. You'll know about him gradually."

Sampath pulled into his apartment's parking lot, the weight of the day settling over him like a second skin. In the lift, the chaos replayed in his mind—a storm of confrontations and calculations that left him questioning every choice. He lit a cigar, letting the smoke curl around him, a brief shield against the world's disorder. The lift opened to a dim corridor, where every detail echoed his solitude. A flickering bulb cast restless shadows, mirroring his own doubts. Somewhere behind a closed door, a TV murmured, a distant reminder of a life he kept at arm's length. His footsteps echoed on the tiles as he reached his door, each turn of the key a silent plea to lock away the day's turmoil and reclaim a fragile peace. Later, he sank into his couch, the soft upholstery and gentle hum of the ceiling fan cocooning him in much-needed solitude.

A knock sounded at his door. Curious, Sampath opened it to find a woman holding a box, her beauty so striking it momentarily stole his breath. Her presence lingered, carrying a delicate fragrance that stirred something within him. He steadied a sudden tremor in his hand and managed a polite, "Hello! I think you've knocked on the wrong door."

smiles & says, "No, I'm Ishika. Your new neighbour." Sampath said, "Oh! I thought a family might have shifted. So, you're the one. So, Ishika, what do you do?" Ishika said, "Are

You gonna talk here itself or let me in?" Sampath said, "Yeah, sure! Come in." Ishika came into his house & sat on his couch. Sampath went into the kitchen & brought her a homemade

didn't know how she knew about him. Ishika said, "Your laptop. Hmm... looks like you really didn't like it." As she spoke, her eyes flickered momentarily to his hands, noticing the faint impressions of calluses that seemed out of place for someone claiming to be in IT. Her gaze, sharp and inquisitive, suggested she observed more than she let on. There was a moment where something unspoken passed between them, her demeanour hinting at a past steeped in secrets much like his own. Sampath said, "What? What didn't I like?" Ishika laughed and said, "You didn't like it because you didn't want me to know about your job. But it's okay. I can handle secrets, Mr Sampath." Her words were light, but the intensity in her gaze hinted at the depth of her understanding.

Ishika said, "Your laptop. Hmm... looks like you really didn't like it." As she spoke, her eyes flickered momentarily to his hands, noticing the faint impressions of calluses that seemed out of place for someone claiming to be in IT. Her gaze, sharp and inquisitive, suggested she observed more than she let on. Sampath said, "What? What didn't I like?" Ishika laughed and said, "You didn't like it because you didn't want me to know about your job. But it's okay. I can handle secrets, Mr Sampath." Her words were light, but the intensity in her gaze hinted at the depth of her understanding.

working here." Sampath understood that she could tell everything with her facial expressions. But he has to make sure that she won't reveal him. Sampath said, "So, what's that.

in your hand?" Ishika said, "Oh! I totally forgot. This is some sweet I made today at my house. So, I thought it would be a good idea to share the sweet. So, I bought it for you." Sampath

took the box & kept it aside. He wanted to say not to reveal his real job details. He was living in that flat with a fake identity. He told his previous neighbours that he was an IT engineer. He didn't attend the owner's meetings & didn't take part in any events. Ishika said, "Hmm… I think that's it. I should go back. Need to unpack my things." Sampath said, "Yeah! I think you're right." Ishika was about to leave his flat, she turned around & said, "Not to worry. I won't reveal anything about you & your job." Sampath smiled & said, "Thanks for coming." He closed the door. Ishika was walking to her door. She whispered, "He's not that comfortable when I came into his house. He's full of secrets." Sampath sat on the couch & was thinking, "Why the hell did she

Why did I let her in? Can I trust her? Maybe, maybe not. Who really knows? She's driving me crazy. Perhaps I should talk to her. He eyed the box Ishika had left, opened it, and tasted the sweet. Not bad, he mused. She could cook, but he still thought he was better. He finished the entire sweet, a small smile tugging at his lips. The memory of the team's drills flickered through his mind—their focus and unity a sharp reminder of the purpose that bound them. Pride and responsibility settled over Sampath, casting a quiet, poignant glow in the shadows of his secret life. He opened the doors. There was the technical team working on some websites & tracking down the servers. He called through that room. Then he entered a room where

There was a board on the door "HEAD". He went to the table & sat on it. He opened his laptop & was checking his emails. Then he gets a call from the commissioner. But he didn't know that it was

The first time, the commissioner was calling him on the phone. He met him many times for appreciation & suspension. Maybe he doesn't like to talk to him. The commissioner was

calling him again. He took his phone & said, "Who's this?" The other person said, "I'm the commissioner. Goddammit. Give me some respect". Sampath said, "Sir! Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you." The commissioner said, "Not an issue. I think you liked the headquarters. You're the best people over you. So, I wish you all the best. But I don't have any cases to assign. So, develop

good relations with the team. Train the backup team & new members until I receive the new cases via your email. So, deal with the case & report everything to me. Every single

detail. You've full access to the police files & accessories." Sampath ended the conversation & sat back in the chair. He sighed & whispered, "Now, I should save this idiot's number."

He went to save his number. He saved his number as "BSD*". Then Spandana came into his cabin. She said, "Sir, did you receive the mail? We got our roles." Sampath, while opening.

The mailbox said, "What were the roles given to you & the new members & respective teams?" She replied, "It was to follow your orders, sir." Sampath sighed & checked the mail. He got

An email from an unknown source. He opened the mail. He printed out the permission letters & faxed them to all police stations. He took the prints of the case details & put them in a file.

Sampath said, "Send two of the new members to the crime scene. You & other two members come with me. Also, tell them to follow the orders & take the backup also. I know the

Best field officers. Sharpshooters. Aggression is good, but only when aimed at the correct targets. You had no rules before, but now you do. Let's move. We're out of time. Sampath's phone buzzed with updates from Muruga and Naina. The team reached the crime scene, where chaos reigned. They stopped by the accessory block to collect weapons, then rolled out in the police vehicle. The scene was a storm of activity: tension hung thick in the air, laced with the acrid tang of burnt debris and diesel fumes. Voices overlapped, cameras clicked, radios crackled. Yellow tape snapped in the breeze, slicing through a landscape of shattered glass and blood-stained concrete. Evidence markers dotted the ground, some beside scattered belongings, others near ominous stains. Journalists and bystanders murmured, their whispers battling the distant wail of sirens. The sheer intensity of the scene pressed in on Sampath and his team, leaving them momentarily breathless in the face of its raw reality.