Fuad settled back into his chair, his gaze razor-sharp as he scrutinised every nuance within the photographs of the rat carcasses and the hastily scrawled notes that Heru had presented.
A brief silence fell between them, broken only by the measured intake of a deep breath.
With deliberate care, he lifted one of the photographs, holding it up to the light.
“My word,” he murmured, “the menace inscribed there is shockingly vulgar! Yet, it is precisely this brazen coarseness that lends it a strange, compelling force.”
Fuad regarded Heru with a steady, unwavering gaze before rising deliberately from his seat.
He strode thoughtfully across to the large whiteboard tucked in the corner of the room, a familiar canvas for plotting out their most significant investigations.
“Heru, if this truly is the handiwork of a bitter ex-lover,” he began, his voice low and measured, “then this transcends mere romantic squabble. This is terror, psychological warfare.” With a flourish of his red marker, he inscribed in bold, commanding letters: VENGEANCE - EX - PHARMACY TERROR.
“The pharmacy is a public space. The rotting rat carcasses, the brazen threats scrawled across the floor, and the involvement of prominent figures, both the Doctor and the pharmacists render this story rich with complexity.”
Fuad turned sharply back to Heru, his expression grave and resolute, “I know Felzein is a friend of yours. But from this moment on, regard him solely as a source, not a companion."
"Objectivity must govern our approach. A misstep here could cost us dearly. But if we tread carefully, this could become our most profound investigation of the year.”
He returned to his chair with a measured grace, folding his fingers thoughtfully beneath his chin.
“This isn’t merely a matter of identifying ‘who did it’, we must understand ‘why now’. Is Welly acting on his own accord? Or is there a puppeteer lurking in the shadows? Why target Melati? Why the pharmacy? Why not strike at Felzein’s own home?”
Fuad gave a slow nod, as though steeling himself for the work ahead.
“We delve, Heru. We unravel to the very core. Assemble an investigative team, dispatch field reporters, and ensure the photographer secures comprehensive documentation from the scene. You will lead the charge.”
Fuad opened his laptop with a deliberate calm, the soft click of keys breaking the stillness as he began to compile the roster for their investigative team.
“We shall begin to forge the team. This is no task for a lone hand. Heru, you will serve as the vital conduit between the field operations and our editorial desk.”
His finger traced the names scrolling on the screen as he spoke, each one carefully chosen.
“First, Ibrahim! Our senior photographer. Sharp-eyed, swift-footed, and seasoned in the art of investigative capture.”
“I require him to descend upon the pharmacy, to seize every pertinent detail, the spatial arrangement, the angles of CCTV cameras, even the minutiae of shopping lists if need be.”
Heru’s pen moved quickly across his notebook, capturing every instruction.
“Next, Vania! A reporter of no small repute, whose expertise lies in probing criminal cases entwined with the medical sphere.”
“She comprehends the labyrinthine pathways of hospitals, pharmacies, and their attendant networks. Her task to uncover who holds access to this place, and whether Melati stands as the true quarry or merely a piece in a larger game.”
Fuad paused, his gaze sharpening as he keyed in the final name.
“And lastly, Vera! A legal and behavioural analyst. Her acumen will guide us in deciphering the psyche behind these acts. Should this prove a game of psychological shadows, we require a discerning eye to unravel genuine intent from misdirection.”
He exhaled deeply, his eyes locking onto Heru’s with a steady, unflinching intensity.
“This team must operate with both urgency and meticulous care. We cannot afford to sow panic, nor allow any whispers of this to slip into the public domain prematurely.”
Heru gave a measured nod.
“Arrange an internal briefing first thing tomorrow morning, in the conference room on the second floor. I shall preside personally. Make sure Ibrahim, Vania, and Vera are informed. I expect them to arrive armed with initial data and clear strategies.”
Fuad reclined slightly, his gaze drifting beyond the walls as if piercing through unseen layers.
“And one final thing…”
His tone dropped to a low, weighty murmur.
“If these threads truly connect back to the theft at Felzein’s grocery, then this is no mere tale of romantic entanglement.”
He drew a slow, deliberate breath, the room thickening with anticipation, “KobaNews needs a breakthrough. Perhaps, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for.”
*****
(Back at Koba Baru Pharmacy)
After a lapse of two hours in unconsciousness, Cherlyn’s eyes finally fluttered open.
“Ah… where am I?” she whispered, breath shallow and uneven, as the fog of faintness reluctantly lifted.
A heavy ache pulsed through her skull, the lingering sting of the earlier shock still vivid. The memory of Felzein’s sudden presence etched sharply into her mind.
“Doctor Cherlyn, you’re awake,” came Dewi’s voice, soft yet threaded with concern, seated closely by her side.
“Dewi… what has happened? Why am I here?” Cherlyn murmured, confusion knitting her brow as her hand rose instinctively to cradle her throbbing temple.
Her gaze was hazy at first, yet gradually she discerned the figures of Rosa and Melati standing quietly beside Dewi, their eyes fixed upon her with an anxious curiosity.
“Ocha, Melati! Why do you look at me so?” she asked, voice fragile as it sought to steady itself amid the swirling uncertainty.
“What exactly…” Cherlyn faltered mid-sentence, a sudden flash of recollection sweeping over her.
Her complexion drained to a ghostly pallor.
“I… I saw Doctor Vradistza just now!” she gasped, breath hitching sharply. “How long have I been unconscious?” she pressed, urgency threading her words.
“Two hours,” Felzein replied with quiet steadiness. “When you saw me earlier, you looked as though you’d glimpsed a spectre.”
“Ahh! Doctor Vradistza!” Cherlyn exclaimed, her voice trembling with a tumult of surprise and disbelief.
A sudden clarity coursed through her veins, invigorating and unnerving in equal measure.
With a swift, almost startled movement, she rose to her feet, eyes wide and searching, brimming with a tense mixture of astonishment and apprehension.
“You… you’re still alive?” she breathed, the question trembling on the edge of fear and wonder.
Felzein’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as he moved forward with quiet deliberation.
The soft tap of his shoes echoed through the stillness of the pharmacy’s rear chamber, a rhythmic reminder of his presence.
“Indeed, I am very much alive,” he murmured, each word carefully measured, weighted with unspoken conviction.
“Death does not claim me so easily…”
Cherlyn stood frozen, her eyes locked onto the figure before her, as if her mind struggled to reconcile the undeniable truth.
A constriction gripped her throat. Her chest heaved, each breath a fragile effort against the rising tide of disbelief.
Rosa’s brow knit in perplexity, while Melati’s glance flickered uneasily towards Dewi.
Their shared looks were laden with unasked questions, a silent attempt to unravel the mystery that had suddenly woven itself into their midst.
“Alive…? Not so easily undone by death…?” Rosa whispered, voice barely more than a breath.
What secret lay hidden beneath Felzein’s calm assertion? Why did he speak as though death had once sought him, and failed?
What shadows from their shared past lingered in that charged silence?
Cherlyn’s voice emerged at last, trembling with a mixture of awe and dread.
“Doctor Vradistza… I witnessed it myself… I saw you engulfed in that blast…”
Her words faltered as she closed her eyes for a moment, striving to banish the haunting spectre that loomed within her memory.
Yet Felzein’s gaze remained steady, the calm of one tempered by trials beyond imagining.
“There are truths you have yet to grasp, Cherlyn,” he said softly, voice threaded with quiet gravity.
Felzein fixed Cherlyn with a soft, almost tender look, as though to assure her that the man before her was no mere figment or shadow of imagination.
“And you… you’ve been concealed here all this while?” Cherlyn’s voice wavered, fragile with disbelief, still grappling with the startling truth laid bare before her.
He inclined his head slowly, calm yet laden with a silent weight.
“Yes… I have dwelt in the Koba vicinity for nigh on five years now,” he answered evenly, though beneath the surface lay a burden unseen.
Cherlyn swallowed thickly, a tightening ache constricting her chest, “Five years… Five long years without word, without a sign… and yet all believed you dead and gone.”
For a fleeting moment, Felzein’s gaze dipped downward, as if gathering strength, before he met her eyes again, steady and resolute.
“I was compelled to vanish. At that time… far too much hung in the balance.”
Cherlyn’s expression grew stern, a tempest of confusion, bitterness, and relief flickering across her face.
“You… you allowed them all to grieve your loss? Even I… I…”
Felzein took a deliberate step closer, bridging the gap between them with measured calm.
“Forgive me, Cherlyn. In time, you shall understand. Not now, but in the fullness of time.”