The door opened. Two men. The first one swept the room the way you swept a room when you were trained to clear it — low, controlled, moving to create the sight line. He was good. Arjun noted this and moved before the sight line could settle, crossing the room's length in three steps, which was faster than most people expected a man of his size to move, and he had the first one contained before the second was fully through the door.
What followed was not a film fight. It was what a genuine physical confrontation between trained professionals looked like: efficient, painful for everyone involved, and over in seconds rather than minutes. Arjun had the advantage of knowing every corner of this room, and the advantage of someone fighting in defence rather than offense, and the significant advantage of someone fighting for a clear reason rather than a paid one. The second man had a weapon — dealing with it cost him a bruised forearm and a cut above his eyebrow that would require attention later. But dealing with it he did.
Both men were on the floor in under two minutes, secured with zip ties, phones removed, weapon secured.
"Arjun!" Priya's voice from behind the bedroom door. Not panicked. Sharp, controlled. Present.
"Clear," he said. "Stay in the room. Give me two minutes."
He called Dev. Dev was there in eight minutes — already en route, having been on the night's secondary watch from two streets away, because Arjun had told him to be ready and Dev was the kind of partner who was always ready. He came in, assessed the two men on the floor with pragmatic efficiency, and began managing the situation.
"You're bleeding," Dev said.
"Eyebrow. It's fine."
"How's your arm?"
"Functional." He went to the bedroom door. "Priya."
The door opened. She had his phone — she had been ready to call. She looked at him. At the eyebrow. At his arm, held slightly differently than normal, which she noticed.
"You're hurt," she said.
"Not badly." He meant it.
She looked past him at the living area — the two men on the floor, Dev on the phone in the corner, the specific aftermath of a conflict that had been brief and decisive. She took all of it in without flinching.
"It's over?" she said.
"This part," he said. "The rest follows the legal process. Rohit hired these two — and that chain will be traceable. It adds to the case against him." He paused. "You're safe. Right now, in this moment, you're safe."
