"Papa, why is your phone buzzing so much?" Atharv asked, suspicious eyes narrowing behind his milk glass. "Are you playing that spy game again?"
Ten minutes later, the "filing clerk" was gone. Srikant was weaving a beat-up hatchback through Mumbai’s soul-crushing traffic, his earpiece crackling with JK’s voice.
"I don't lose people, JK. I just give them a head start," Srikant grumbled, pulling a U-turn that earned him a chorus of angry honks. The family man Search Result :: PagalMovies.autos
"Siri, the target just switched to a motorbike. He’s lane-splitting. You’re going to lose him."
Srikant froze, tucked behind a dumpster. He answered. "Dhriti? I'm in a meeting." "Papa, why is your phone buzzing so much
He tracked the target into a narrow alleyway. Just as he was about to make the move, his phone rang. Not the encrypted work line—the personal one. The ringtone was a jaunty Bollywood tune he’d forgotten to change.
Srikant looked at the target, who was currently handing over a suspicious briefcase fifty yards away. Then he looked at the time. "Is it the one with the volcanic eruption?" he whispered. "Yes! Please!" "I don't lose people, JK
"It’s the Filing and Records Department, Atharv. Excitement is illegal there," Srikant lied smoothly, grabbing his briefcase. He kissed Suchitra on the cheek—avoiding her questioning gaze about why he was wearing his "sturdy" shoes for a desk job—and bolted out the door.