The smoke was thick, and the rain washed the blood from the wooden platform.
Vikram screamed, channeling all his Prana into his arms. The bio-electric burst shattered the shadow chains holding him. He grabbed the semi-conscious Rohan and folded them both into the darkness, escaping just as a hail of bullets tore through the platform.
They materialized in the deep colonial sewers beneath the Taj Hotel.
Rohan lay on the wet stone floor, his body shaking with silent, painful tears. His hand was stained with his father's blood.
"They knew we were coming," Rohan whispered, his voice dead. "They knew exactly where the smoke bombs were. They knew the sniper position."
Vikram stood over him, his face dark, his fists clenching. He turned to Mr. Desai, who sat in the corner of the sewer chamber, his hands trembling.
"How did they know, Mr. Desai?" Vikram asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Vikram, I... I don't know," Desai stammered, looking away.
Vikram stepped forward, grabbing Desai by his collar and lifting him off his feet. "You designed the security systems. You knew the emergency protocols. You've been feeding them information!"
"No! I swear!" Desai cried. "I didn't tell them! But Devendra... Devendra has my encryption keys. He was my partner!"