Naufal wiped the cold sweat dampening his forehead. The strong aroma of black coffee, his third cup of the night, couldn't overpower the sharp smell of leftover meth still clinging to his clothes. The wall clock showed ten p.m., and his work wasn't finished yet.
The report on the major drug lord they'd just arrested was still piled on his desk—thick files containing details of the operation, witness statements from people still trembling with fear, and photographs of the evidence that exposed the dark network.
The physical and mental exhaustion hit him hard, but he couldn't let his guard down. His responsibility was enormous: protecting the public from the ever-spreading danger of drugs.
His cell phone rang, shattering the silence of the room, occupied only by stacks of files and the bitter aroma of coffee. Sinta's number appeared on the screen.
He hesitated for a moment before answering. He knew Sinta had been waiting for him to call, just as he'd promised. A promise spoken in the middle of a busy schedule, a promise forgotten amid the chaos of the arrest operation several hours earlier.
“Hello?” Naufal answered, his voice heavy with exhaustion and guilt.
“Baby.” Sinta's voice came through. “You said you were going to call, but I've been waiting for hours.
“You haven't even let me know anything. I feel like you never care about me.” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable, stabbing at Naufal's heart.
Naufal let out a long breath, guilt constricting his chest. He glanced at the wall clock again, realizing how busy the day had been—so busy that he hadn't even noticed night had arrived.
“Sinta, I'm sorry. The operation was exhausting, and I need to finish this report right away. I know that's not an excuse, but I…”
“Oh, forget it! When you called earlier, you said you were on your way! One of your men was injured! You said you'd call, but where was the call? In the end, I was the one who had to call you!” Sinta hung up angrily.
Naufal drew another long breath. Just as he was about to return to the pile of files, he found Dimas, his partner, standing in front of him.
“How long have you been here?” Naufal asked, his voice flat.
“Since the woman named Sinta started pulling Mr. Naufal's world away from the silence of this room,” Dimas replied, a faint smile on his face.
“Sit down, Dimas.” Naufal pointed to the chair across from him.
Dimas, carrying a file, sat across from Naufal. The AIPDA-ranked officer was forty years old, and because his rank was considerably lower than Naufal's, he always addressed the younger man as “Sir.”
“Everyone else went home a while ago. It's just you left in this room, Sir,” Dimas said gently, understanding in his voice. He knew Naufal needed someone to share his burden with.
“I feel guilty, Dimas,” Naufal said, his voice barely audible as he tried to explain the conflict with his girlfriend.
Dimas listened patiently, nodding from time to time. When Naufal finished telling him everything, Dimas said, “Sir, our job is difficult. But we can't let it make us forget the other important things in life. Family and the people we love are part of our lives too.”
“I know. But I feel like I can't manage my time well. I always feel like I don't have enough of it,” Naufal replied, his voice still heavy.
“We have to learn how to balance everything, Sir. We can't get trapped in our work routine and forget the other things that matter,” Dimas advised.
Suddenly, Naufal's cell phone rang. An unknown number. He hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
“Second Inspector Naufal Hasbi?” The voice on the other end was deep and menacing. “We know about the operation this morning. We know you seized a considerable amount of evidence. We want our share. If you refuse, your little brother, Akhzam, will pay the price.”
Naufal's heart pounded. A chill pierced straight to his bones. The threat was clear, and he knew this wasn't an ordinary threat.
This was a threat from a larger drug-trafficking network, one that might be even more dangerous than the drug lord they'd just arrested. The threat wasn't aimed only at him; it also endangered Akhzam, his little brother, who was only eight years old. He remembered Akhzam's innocent face.
“Who are you?” Naufal asked, trying to remain calm even though his hands were already slick with cold sweat.
“You don't need to know who we are. Tomorrow night, at ten, at Pelabuhan. Hand over the evidence we asked for, or Akhzam will disappear. Don't even think about fighting us. Your little brother's life will pay the price.”
The call ended. Naufal collapsed into his chair. The threat was so real, so terrifying. He had to think of a strategy. He had to protect Akhzam. He had to report it to his superior, and he also had to be careful.
He couldn't act rashly. He had to plan everything carefully. He had to make sure Akhzam was safe. But how? The image of Akhzam's innocent, cheerful face flashed through his mind.
“What is it?” Dimas asked cautiously.
“Dimas,” Naufal called, his voice hoarse. He told Dimas about the threatening call in detail, without leaving out a single word.
Dimas listened intently, his expression growing tense. When Naufal finished, Dimas said, “Sir, this is serious. We have to report it to our superior. But we also need to be careful. They know about our operation, which means they have a mole inside.”
“He threatened me through Azam.”
Dimas patted Naufal on the shoulder. “Stay calm, Sir. We'll handle this. We'll report it to our superior, but we need a backup plan. We can't just storm Pelabuhan. They must have prepared everything already.”
“Then what should we do?” Naufal asked desperately.
Dimas thought for a moment. “First, we report it to our superior. Second, we need to determine the exact location at Pelabuhan.
“Third, we need to identify who they are. There might be information in the files on the drug lord we arrested earlier.
“Fourth, we need to prepare a trained, carefully planned ambush team. We can't act rashly.”
“But what about Akhzam?” Naufal asked again, anxiety filling his voice. “They've surely already found out where Azam goes to school and when it would be safest to abduct him.”
Dimas looked calm. His ten years of experience in criminal investigations—far more than Naufal's—had given him a broader perspective.
“We need to distract them. We can spread false information. We can make them think we're ready to hand over the evidence. We can use that as bait.
“We'll set a trap. We'll place an undercover team at Pelabuhan Sungai Duku, while another team secretly watches over Akhzam.
“We'll make sure Akhzam is safe, Sir. Don't worry.” Dimas explained his plan in detail, laying out each team member's role and the strategy they would use.
He also emphasized the importance of keeping the plan secret. Yet beneath his calm exterior, Dimas felt the weight of the burden too.
He knew this wasn't only about catching criminals. It was also about saving the life of a child who happened to be the team leader's own little brother.
Naufal stared at Dimas, a faint spark of hope returning to his eyes.
But one question hung in the air, a question that perhaps only Dimas could answer. “But what if they manage to get Azam?”