The screen flickered to life at 2 AM.
Three monitors.
Twelve camera angles.
One verdict.
Bharat sat in Peacock's underground office—a converted warehouse basement that smelled like burned coffee and cooling servers. The space was all exposed brick and humming machinery, walls covered in screens showing data streams he couldn't begin to decipher.
But he didn't need to decipher them.
Peacock was doing that for him.
"Got it," she said.
Her fingers moved across three keyboards simultaneously—a performance that looked less like hacking and more like conducting an orchestra. Lines of code cascaded down screens. Security protocols shattered like glass. The Kapur family's private surveillance network—supposedly impenetrable—opened up like a body under a scalpel.
Clean.
Efficient.
Terrifying.
"How long did that take you?" Bharat asked.
"Forty-seven minutes. Would've been faster, but they upgraded their encryption last month. Someone's getting paranoid."
"With good reason."
Peacock smiled. That sharp, knowing smile that said she enjoyed being right about people's fears.
"Here."
She spun one monitor around. Showed him the feed.
Temple surveillance.
Three weeks ago.
Late night.
The sanctum's outer chamber.
Where only priests were supposed to enter.
But it wasn't a priest on screen.
It was Rajan.
Bharat's breath caught.
The footage was grainy—low light, security-grade compression—but unmistakable. Rajan Kapur, patriarch of the family, walking into the sanctum's outer chamber. Behind him: two temple priests. Between them: something wrapped in cloth. Large. Heavy. The way they carried it suggested weight. Suggested value.
Suggested a body.
"Keep watching," Peacock said quietly.
The footage continued.
Rajan spoke to the priests. No audio—Peacock hadn't cracked that encryption yet—but body language was clear. Rajan gesturing. Angry. One priest bowing. Submissive. The other standing straighter. Defiant.
Then the exchange.
Money.
A briefcase.
Opened on screen.
Stacks of cash visible even through the grain.
And something else.
Documents.
Papers that one priest examined carefully before nodding.
Agreement reached.
Transaction complete.
The body—or whatever was in that cloth—disappeared into the sanctum.
The footage cut.
Silence.
Just the hum of servers.
And Bharat's pulse hammering in his ears.
"That's it," he whispered. "That's the proof. Rajan's directly involved. He's not just funding the temple—he's participating in the trafficking."
"Yes."
"We can destroy him with this."
"Yes."
"The whole operation collapses. The family loses legitimacy. The temple loses protection."
"Yes."
Peacock's voice was flat.
Too flat.
Bharat looked at her.
"But?"
"But there's a problem."
She pulled up another screen. This one showing temple records—registries, logs, internal documents that should've been buried under layers of security.
"The temple keeps two sets of books," Peacock explained. "Official donations. And the real accounting. The real one tracks everything: organ shipments, buyer contacts, payment schedules."
"And?"
"And every transaction is tied to a witness. Someone who can verify the exchange happened. Someone whose testimony—willing or not—validates the contract."
She highlighted a name in the ledger.
Witness: Kumar Pradesh.
Status: ACTIVE.
"Kumar was the priest who examined those documents," Peacock said. "He's listed as the primary witness to Rajan's participation. Which means—"
"—he's the key to making this evidence stick."
"Exactly. Without his testimony, this footage is just grainy video of men in a room. Could be anything. Could be denied."
"So we get Kumar to testify."
"You can't."
"Why not?"
Peacock's eyes met his.
Dark.
Knowing.
Sad in a way that suggested she'd seen this play out before.
"Because the moment you release this footage, the temple will know Kumar is compromised. And compromised witnesses don't stay alive long enough to testify."
Silence.
The words hung there.
Heavy.
Final.
"You're saying if I use this evidence—"
"Kumar dies. Within twenty-four hours. Maybe less."
"How do you know?"
"Because it's what always happens. The temple has protocols. Witness protection isn't one of them. Witness elimination is."
She pulled up more files. Photos. Names. Faces.
"These were witnesses from previous cases," Peacock said. "People who saw too much. Knew too much. Could've testified."
Bharat scanned the list.
Twelve names.
Twelve faces.
All marked:
DECEASED.
Car accident.
Heart attack.
Suicide.
"Natural causes" repeated like a mantra.
Like a threat.
"They don't leave loose ends," Peacock said quietly. "And Kumar is a very loose end right now."
Bharat's hands clenched.
The bells in his skull screamed.
GONG. GONG. GONG.
Like applause.
Like mockery.
"So what are you saying? I can't use this?"
"I'm saying you have to choose. Use the footage, destroy Rajan, and Kumar dies. Or keep it hidden, Kumar lives, and you've got nothing."
"That's not a choice. That's extortion."
"Welcome to the game."
Peacock leaned back in her chair.
Watching him.
Analyzing.
Like he was data she was trying to crack.
"Here's the real question, Mr. Singh: How much is one life worth?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"A practical one. Kumar is one man. The temple operation kills dozens—maybe hundreds—every year. If you sacrifice Kumar to take down the whole network, you save more lives than you lose."
"That's utilitarian calculus. That's playing God."
"That's survival. That's war. And you're in one whether you like it or not."
Bharat stood.
Paced.
The room felt too small.
Too close.
His vision fractured—
Contract Vision activating—
Showing him layers:
Layer 1: Physical reality
The footage on screen. Kumar's face frozen mid-gesture. Evidence that could end everything.
Layer 2: Binding threads
Connections spreading from Kumar like a web—to Rajan, to the temple, to dozens of contracts and obligations and threats woven so tight they looked like chains.
Layer 3: System analysis
╔═══════════════════════════════════╗
║ EVIDENCE EVALUATION ║
║ TYPE: VISUAL PROOF (COMPROMISED) ║
║ WITNESS: KUMAR PRADESH ║
╠═══════════════════════════════════╣
║ EFFECTIVENESS: 85% (WITH WITNESS) ║
║ EFFECTIVENESS: 12% (WITHOUT) ║
╠═══════════════════════════════════╣
║ WITNESS SURVIVAL RATE: 3% ║
║ IF EVIDENCE RELEASED ║
╠═══════════════════════════════════╣
║ RECOMMENDATION: SECURE WITNESS ║
║ BEFORE DEPLOYMENT ║
║ CURRENT WITNESS STATUS: UNKNOWN ║
╚═══════════════════════════════════╝
"There has to be another way," Bharat said.
"There isn't."
"We extract Kumar first. Get him to safety. Then release the footage."
"You think the temple won't notice you grabbing one of their priests? You think they won't move faster than you can?"
"Then we—"
"There is no 'then we,' Mr. Singh. There's just math. Bad math. You pick the equation that kills the fewest people and live with it."
Bharat turned on her.
Voice sharp.
Edged with desperation and three days of sleep deprivation.
"Is that how you live? Just calculating deaths like they're numbers on a spreadsheet?"
Peacock didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
Just held his gaze with eyes that had seen worse things than he could imagine.
"Yes," she said simply. "Because the alternative is pretending everyone can be saved. And that delusion gets more people killed than honesty ever will."
Silence.
Just the hum of machines.
And bells.
Always bells.
GONG.
GONG.
GONG.
Bharat's phone buzzed.
Message from Mira:
"Are you okay? You haven't answered in three hours."
He stared at the screen.
At the question he couldn't answer.
Because okay was a memory.
A concept from a life that felt increasingly distant.
"I need time," Bharat said finally. "To think."
"You have twelve hours," Peacock replied. "After that, the security window closes. Temple upgrades their protocols. And this footage becomes useless."
"Why twelve hours?"
"Because that's when Kumar finishes his shift. Goes home. Becomes inaccessible. If you're going to move, it has to be before then."
"And if I don't move?"
"Then you've wasted my time. And I bill by the hour."
She said it lightly.
But her eyes were serious.
"What would you do?" Bharat asked.
"Me?"
"If you were in my position. If it was your choice."
Peacock was quiet for a long moment.
Her fingers stopped moving across the keyboards.
First time since he'd arrived.
"I'd use the footage," she said finally. "I'd release it. Destroy Rajan. Let Kumar die. And I'd spend the rest of my life knowing I traded one life for many."
"How do you live with that?"
"Badly. But I live."
She turned back to her screens.
Fingers resuming their dance.
"That's the difference between you and me, Mr. Singh. You still think there's a version of this where everyone survives. I stopped believing that a long time ago."
Bharat walked to the door.
Stopped.
"If I use the footage and Kumar dies—does that make me a killer?"
"No."
Peacock didn't look up.
Didn't pause her work.
"It makes you a survivor. There's a difference."
"What's the difference?"
"Killers enjoy it. Survivors just do what's necessary and hate themselves after."
"That's not comforting."
"It's not supposed to be."
Bharat left the warehouse at 3 AM.
Rain falling.
City drowning.
The footage was on a USB drive in his pocket.
Heavy.
Heavier than it should be.
Like it carried weight beyond data.
His phone buzzed again.
System notification:
╔═══════════════════════════════════╗
║ DECISION POINT DETECTED ║
╠═══════════════════════════════════╣
║ OPTION A: DEPLOY EVIDENCE ║
║ COST: 1 WITNESS (KUMAR) ║
║ GAIN: RAJAN ELIMINATED ║
║ TEMPLE NETWORK DAMAGED ║
╠═══════════════════════════════════╣
║ OPTION B: WITHHOLD EVIDENCE ║
║ COST: TACTICAL ADVANTAGE ║
║ GAIN: WITNESS SURVIVAL ║
║ INVESTIGATION CONTINUES ║
╠═══════════════════════════════════╣
║ TIME REMAINING: 11:47:22 ║
╚═══════════════════════════════════╝
Eleven hours.
To decide if he was willing to kill a man he'd never met.
To save people he'd never know.
The bells screamed.
GONG. GONG. GONG.
And beneath them—
A new voice.
Kumar's.
Bharat had never heard it.
But he could imagine it:
Pleading.
Terrified.
Asking why no one saved him.
"Twelve hours," Bharat whispered to the rain.
The city didn't answer.
Just kept drowning.
Just kept waiting.
For him to choose.
Who lived.
Who died.
And whether he could live with either answer.