The night was thick with tension as Tiger moved silently through the shadows, his form almost invisible against the darkened landscape of New Delhi. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, but Tiger's mind was focused on one thing: his target. Aditya Bakshi's sprawling estate loomed in the distance, a fortress of luxury and power, guarded by layers of security meant to keep men like Tiger out.

But Tiger was no ordinary man. He had spent years perfecting his skills, honing his instincts, and tonight, those skills would be put to the ultimate test. The revelation that Bakshi was The Shepherd-the mastermind behind the conspiracy that had torn Tiger's life apart-had ignited a fire within him. This was no longer just a mission; it was personal.

Tiger had learned the truth from Pathan only hours earlier. The message had been brief, but it had confirmed what Tiger had long suspected: Bakshi was the one pulling the strings all along. Pathan had shared the information they uncovered during their investigation, leaving Tiger with no doubt that Bakshi was the man responsible for his family's murder and the chaos that had followed.

As he approached the perimeter of the compound, Tiger's thoughts flickered to Pathan and the uneasy alliance they had formed. Pathan was likely on his way, racing against time to stop Tiger from doing what he had come to do. But Tiger knew that this confrontation was inevitable, that the endgame was already in motion.

He adjusted the grip on his silenced pistol, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the high walls and the guards patrolling them. Bakshi had surrounded himself with an army, but Tiger had no intention of letting that stop him.

Tonight, Aditya Bakshi would face the consequences of his actions. And Tiger would be the one to deliver them.

Bakshi's compound was a study in modern security. High walls, infrared cameras, motion sensors, and a small army of private security personnel patrolled every inch of the estate. But for all its defenses, there were always vulnerabilities-small cracks in the armor that Tiger knew how to exploit.

Dressed in black and moving with the grace of a predator, Tiger slipped past the first line of guards, using the cover of darkness and the natural blind spots in the security system. His movements were fluid, calculated, every step bringing him closer to the heart of the compound.

He had mapped out the estate's layout in his mind, memorized the patrol patterns, and identified the weak points in the security grid. He knew exactly where Bakshi would be-deep within the mansion, likely in his private study, surrounded by his most trusted guards.

Tiger reached the outer wall of the main building, pressing himself flat against the stone as a pair of guards passed by, their footsteps heavy in the quiet night. He waited, his breath steady, until they were out of sight, then quickly scaled the wall, his gloved hands finding purchase on the rough surface.

He reached a second-floor balcony and silently hoisted himself over the railing. The doors leading inside were locked, but that posed no challenge. Within moments, Tiger had the lock picked, slipping into the shadows of the opulent interior.

The mansion was a labyrinth of hallways and rooms, each more lavish than the last. But Tiger moved with purpose, his every step bringing him closer to Bakshi. The lights were dim, and the corridors were mostly empty, but he knew better than to let his guard down. Bakshi's most loyal men would be stationed close by, ready to defend their master at a moment's notice.

As Tiger approached the entrance to Bakshi's private study, he paused, pressing himself against the wall to listen. He could hear the low murmur of voices inside, the deep tones of Bakshi's baritone, and the lighter, more nervous responses of another man-one of his aides, no doubt.

Tiger's heart pounded in his chest, but his mind remained calm, focused. This was it-the moment he had been waiting for. With a final, steadying breath, he reached for the door handle.

But just as he was about to push it open, the faint sound of footsteps reached his ears. Tiger froze, his senses on high alert. Someone was coming down the hallway, moving quickly but quietly. It was a sound Tiger recognized-a sound that sent a chill down his spine.

Pathan.

Pathan moved through the darkened halls of Bakshi's mansion with the urgency of a man who knew he was running out of time. The information Zoya had uncovered had sent them all scrambling to act, and now, Pathan was here to prevent a disaster.

He had known, deep down, that Tiger would come for Bakshi. The man had been relentless in his pursuit of those responsible for his family's murder, and now that the mastermind had been revealed, there was nothing that would stop him.

Except, perhaps, Pathan.

But getting inside the mansion had been no easy feat. Pathan had carefully coordinated his entry with the intel provided by his team and had exploited a security vulnerability that Zoya had discovered. The mansion's perimeter was heavily guarded, but Pathan had bypassed the main defenses by using a little-known service entrance, typically reserved for staff and maintenance. He had synchronized his movements with Tiger's, staying one step behind to avoid detection and to ensure that Tiger reached Bakshi first.

The thought of what would happen if Tiger succeeded in killing Bakshi sent a shudder through Pathan. They needed Bakshi alive, needed his confession to expose the full extent of the conspiracy. Without it, everything they had worked for would be lost.

Pathan's team was already in position, surrounding the mansion, ready to move in at a moment's notice. But Pathan knew that this was a task he had to handle himself. Tiger was a force of nature, driven by a need for vengeance that bordered on the self-destructive. To stop him, Pathan would have to confront him directly, appeal to the man's buried sense of honor and justice.

As he approached the entrance to Bakshi's study, Pathan saw the faint outline of a figure pressed against the wall just outside the door. Even in the dim light, he recognized Tiger's silhouette, the tension in the man's posture unmistakable.

For a moment, neither man moved. The hallway was silent except for the sound of their breathing, the weight of the confrontation hanging between them like a storm cloud ready to break.

"Tiger," Pathan whispered, his voice low and urgent. "Don't do this. We need him alive."

Tiger didn't respond at first, his hand still on the door handle. When he finally turned to face Pathan, his eyes were cold, his expression unreadable.

"This man is responsible for everything," Tiger said, his voice a harsh whisper. "For my family, for the attacks, for the war that's about to start. He doesn't deserve to live."

Pathan took a step closer, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "I know what he's done, Tiger. But if you kill him now, we lose everything. We need his confession-we need to expose him to the world."

Tiger's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions-anger, grief, and a deep, gnawing sense of betrayal. "And what if he doesn't confess? What if he lies, like he always has?"

"Then we make him talk," Pathan said, his voice firm. "But we do it the right way. You've come this far, Tiger. Don't throw it all away now."

For a moment, it seemed as though Tiger might relent, that Pathan's words had reached him. But then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall-the heavy, deliberate march of Bakshi's security forces.

Tiger's jaw tightened, and his eyes hardened. "They're coming. We don't have time."

Before Pathan could react, Tiger pushed open the door to Bakshi's study, moving with the speed and precision of a man who had been planning this moment for years.

Bakshi's private study was a room of opulence and power. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, and a massive desk dominated the center of the room. Bakshi himself sat behind it, his expression a mixture of surprise and cold fury as Tiger burst in, his pistol trained on the Defense Minister's chest.

The aide who had been speaking with Bakshi scrambled to his feet, but Tiger paid him no mind. His focus was solely on the man who had orchestrated the conspiracy that had destroyed his life.

"Aditya Bakshi," Tiger said, his voice low and deadly. "You're going to confess to everything you've done."

Bakshi's eyes narrowed, but he showed no fear. "You think you can intimidate me? You're just a rogue agent, a tool that's outlived its usefulness."

Tiger's finger tightened on the trigger, but before he could pull it, the door behind him burst open, and Pathan rushed in, his own gun drawn.

"Tiger, stop!" Pathan shouted, his voice commanding. "Don't do this!"

Bakshi's eyes darted between the two men, a cold smile forming on his lips as he realized the situation. "You two have been chasing ghosts, fighting a war you can't win. And now, here you are, turning on each other. How poetic."

Tiger ignored Bakshi's taunts, his gaze locked on Pathan. "Stay out of this, Pathan. This is between me and him."

"No, it's not," Pathan said, stepping closer, his gun still trained on Tiger. "This is about more than just you, more than just revenge. If you kill him now, you're playing right into his hands. We need him to confess, to bring down the entire network."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with the threat of violence. Bakshi's security forces were just outside the door, ready to storm in at any moment. But for now, it was a standoff between the three men.

Bakshi leaned back in his chair, his smile widening. "You really think I'm going to confess? You're more naïve than I thought. You have nothing-no proof, no leverage. You're just two men with guns, standing in a room that I control."

Tiger's eyes blazed with fury, but before he could respond, the door was thrown open once more, and Bakshi's security forces flooded into the room, their weapons trained on Tiger and Pathan.

For a moment, it seemed as though everything was about to descend into chaos. But then, in a move that caught everyone off guard, Tiger lowered his gun and stepped back, his expression unreadable.

"You're right, Bakshi," Tiger said, his voice cold and calm. "I don't have proof. But I have something better."

With lightning speed, Tiger reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device-a recorder. He tossed it onto Bakshi's desk, the tiny red light on the device blinking ominously.

"I've been recording this entire conversation," Tiger said, his eyes locking onto Bakshi's. "Everything you've said, every word you've just spoken-it's all on tape."

For the first time, Bakshi's confidence faltered. His eyes darted to the recorder, then back to Tiger, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.

"You're bluffing," Bakshi hissed, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Tiger's smile was cold and ruthless. "Try me."

Bakshi's eyes narrowed as he realized the gravity of the situation. The recorder on his desk was a ticking time bomb-one that could bring his entire empire crashing down if the contents were made public. For a moment, the room was silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

Then, slowly, Bakshi's expression changed. The cold arrogance that had defined him for so long began to crack, giving way to something darker, something more desperate.

"You think this will save you?" Bakshi spat, his voice low and venomous. "You think anyone will believe you? I control the media, the government, the military. I am untouchable."

But even as he spoke, there was a flicker of doubt in Bakshi's eyes, a hint of fear that betrayed his words. The power he had so carefully cultivated was slipping through his fingers, and he knew it.

Tiger stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Bakshi's. "Confess, Bakshi. Tell the world what you've done, and maybe-just maybe-you'll live to see another day."

Bakshi's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white with tension. He was cornered, trapped between two men who had nothing left to lose. And for the first time in his life, he felt the icy grip of fear.

With a snarl, Bakshi slammed his hand down on the desk, knocking the recorder to the floor. "Fine," he hissed, his voice dripping with contempt. "You want the truth? I'll give it to you."

He leaned forward, his eyes burning with hatred. "I orchestrated everything-the attacks, the war, the deaths of your family. It was all part of the plan, to push India and Pakistan to the brink of war, to profit from the chaos. And you, Tiger, you were just a pawn, a tool I used to achieve my goals."

Tiger's eyes darkened with a fury that had been building for years, but he remained silent, letting Bakshi continue.

"The ISI agents you hunted down?" Bakshi continued, a twisted smile forming on his lips. "Yes, they were involved. They were the ones who pulled the trigger, who carried out the orders I gave them. You thought you were avenging your family, but you were only scratching the surface. I was the one who orchestrated their deaths, who ordered the hit on your family."

Pathan's grip on his gun tightened as the confession sank in, the weight of Bakshi's words pressing down on him like a physical force. But even as the anger and grief threatened to overwhelm him, he knew that they had won. The truth was out, and Bakshi's empire was about to crumble.

For Tiger, Bakshi's words were like a knife to the heart. He had known who had killed his family, had tracked them down one by one, dispensing his own form of justice. But now, to hear the mastermind behind it all confess, to hear that the man responsible had been right in front of him all along-it was almost too much to bear.

"And it wasn't just me," Bakshi added, his voice dripping with malice. "General Rashid Qureshi was a willing partner. We worked together, aligning our interests to ensure the outcome we desired. The ISI agents were his men, handpicked to carry out the assassination. He wanted the chaos, the brink of war, just as much as I did-if not more. We were a perfect team, bringing two nations to the edge of destruction."

"You killed them," Tiger said, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "You ordered the murder of my wife, my children. You're the reason they're gone."

Bakshi's smile widened, a cold, cruel expression. "That's right. And you played right into my hands. You did exactly what I expected you to do-kill the pawns while the king remained safe."

Bakshi paused, a sinister smile curling his lips as he continued. "And then there's Rubina Khan. She was a threat, someone who had started asking the wrong questions, poking her nose into matters far above her station. She had suspicions about Qureshi and me, about our involvement in the bigger conspiracy to incite war between India and Pakistan. I couldn't let her uncover the truth. That's why I sent the sniper in Minsk. She was getting too close, and she had to be eliminated."

Pathan's eyes widened at Bakshi's words. The pieces began to fall into place. Tiger had been in Minsk, but not to assassinate Rubina as Pathan had originally believed. He was there to extract information from her, to find out who "The Shepherd" truly was, knowing she had her suspicions all along. The attack on Rubina was Bakshi's doing, a desperate move to silence her before she could reveal the truth.

Tiger's hands shook with fury, but before he could react, Pathan stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Tiger, don't," Pathan said, his voice steady but filled with urgency. "He's confessed. We have everything we need."

The room was silent as Tiger struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. He had spent years seeking vengeance, hunting down the men who had taken everything from him. And now, the men responsible were finally within his grasp.

But Pathan was right. The confession was everything. Killing Bakshi now would only taint the justice Tiger had fought so hard to achieve.

Before anyone could react, Tiger moved with lightning speed, disarming the nearest guard and using him as a shield. Pathan followed suit, his training kicking in as he neutralized the remaining threats.

The room erupted into chaos as the guards tried to regain control, but they were no match for Tiger and Pathan. Within moments, the guards were disarmed and restrained, leaving Bakshi alone and defenseless.

Tiger turned to Pathan, his expression unreadable. "Take him," he said, his voice low and cold. "Take him and make sure the world knows what he's done."

Pathan nodded, his heart pounding with a mix of triumph and relief. "We will."

As Pathan and his team moved to secure Bakshi, Tiger stepped back, his eyes lingering on the man who had caused him so much pain. But there was no satisfaction in his gaze, no sense of closure. The man responsible for his family's death was going to face justice, but the wounds Tiger carried ran too deep to be healed by one man's downfall.

Without another word, Tiger turned and walked out of the room, disappearing into the night. Pathan watched him go, a mixture of admiration and sorrow in his heart. The mission was over, but the cost had been high.

As Pathan turned back to Bakshi, he knew that the real work was just beginning. The confession would bring down a powerful man and expose the alliance between Bakshi and General Rashid Qureshi, but it would also reveal the rot that had infected the highest levels of government in both nations. The truth would come out, but it would come at a price.

For now, though, the serpent had been caught, and justice would be served.