The explosion is a silent orange bloom reflected in the water. Zara carries Neha to a waiting fishing boat. Mira stays behind, holding the .22, waiting for her father’s men. "Go," she says. "I’ll buy you ten minutes. It’s what I owe."

Zara lowers her gun slightly. She knows that look. It’s the same one she saw in the mirror after she walked away from her court-martial.

The low-res video file on the USB. It shows Neha, tied to a chair, mouth taped, eyes wide. Overlaid text: "Deliver the hard drive to the Bandra helipad. Or she bleeds first. And so does everyone else."