The Con-Artists

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ

"What are you saying?" Shayan's eyes widened in astonishment. A mysterious person called Officer Asad to drop the hint for their case. Seriously? Where was this case leading to?

"We don't have time for discussion. We must depart now!" Asad turned around, ordering other cops and pacing towards his car. While Shayan snapped back to reality when he thought about the pros and cons of heading straight to the Airport without any confirmation.

"What if it is a trap?" He smartly pointed out. "I think we should not go there ourselves. Instead, send some trustworthy officers to investigate the matter." He suggested.

"I don't give my private numbers to anyone, yet I got the call on my number. Don't you get it? It's urgent!" Asad glared at Shayan, who appeared calm and collected.

"Come on, officer. If the girl can break through your high alert security station, then getting your number is not a big deal for her or for the ones who are helping her out." Shayan sarcastically remarked, confidently eying Asad who seemed pissed off.

Although Asad wanted to himself interrogate the area once again rather than obeying Shayan and staying back, he unwillingly did the latter. Sending the team to the Airport, they patiently waited for the upcoming report.

Meanwhile, Officer Asad paced back and forth in the unit. His forehead creased with a frown etched to his features as if he was internally battling over something. He was also aware that the set of brown eyes belong to none other than Shayan, studying him carefully.

"I'm now sure enough that someone among your men helped the girl to escape," Asad froze on his spot when he heard Shayan. "I mean, she cannot flee away like this, leaving her sister behind, as if anybody assured the security of her sister. Whoever is on her back is supporting her throughout."

"She has a criminal mind and must be the same allies. It is clear that those mobsters are aiding her." Asad threw Shayan a side glance and resumed pacing.

"The thing I'm trying to say is, one of them is between us," Shayan emphasized on each word. Asad narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head.

"You mean my men are untrustworthy and they should not work with us. Instead, you'll call your so-called trustworthy men and then together will steer the case in the false direction you want. But keep this in mind, as long as I'm here, I will not let that happen." He scowled at the poor detective. He never took command from his juniors, neither he had plans to.

"There's no need to hyper, Officer. I'm stating the fact after observing the situation. You must-" Shayan's explanation was cut in by a loud knock that resonated in the office, grabbing both of the men's attention.

"Yes?" Asad asked in an authoritative tone. "Sir, Mr. Farhan is here. He wants to meet you in private." A cop answered after creaking the door open.

Quick glances were shared between the two men before Asad nodded, "Send him inside." The cop was gone in a second. Shayan straightened himself, fixing the crease of his shirt and combing his hairs back with his fingers. While Asad sat on his comfy chair across the large mahogany table.