Thriller surya..

[Viking45]

this is the english version of story SURYA..

[Viking45]

FLASH MESSAGE

TOP SECRET ULTRA
DIRECTOR of INTELLIGENCE to NSA

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

SUBJECT: COMMANDER SURYA PRATHAP

CONCURRENCE CONFIRMED. TEMPORARY TRANSFER ARRANGED
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. 
AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.

END OF MESSAGE.

[Viking45]

A Call in the Night

At 1:00 AM, the phone in Room 405 of Bengaluru’s Leela Palace Hotel pierced the silence. Surya, groggy and irritated, picked it up. “Do you know what time it is?” he snapped.

A stern voice responded, “Mr. Surya, you have an urgent meeting with the boss tomorrow morning.”

“I’m unwell. Tell them I can’t make it,” Surya replied, hanging up. The line went dead.

Two minutes later, the hotel reception phone rang. Fifteen minutes after that, a Delhi flight confirmation pinged on Surya’s mobile. Delhi meant one thing to him: Anjali. Her name stirred a rush of emotions. Anjali loved Surya fiercely, but they hadn’t spoken in nine months. There was a reason—a wound, both physical and emotional, he couldn’t yet face.

Lost in thoughts of her, Surya drifted to sleep.

At dawn, dressed in a crisp white shirt, navy trousers, and black formal shoes, Surya landed in Delhi at 6:00 AM, carrying no luggage. A woman waited outside the airport, and they drove to the Ashoka Hotel. Anjali consumed his thoughts. Meeting her would take ten minutes; one call, and she’d rush to him. But not yet—not for another three months.

In the hotel lobby, Surya spotted his boss, Colonel Rithika, and offered a faint smile. He handed his phone and wallet to the reception and sat across from her.

“How are you, Surya?” Rithika asked.

“I’m fine,” he replied, his voice flat.

Rithika leaned forward. “There’s an ACCOUNTING job in Jordan. Immediate departure. If you’re ready, you’ll be on a plane in six hours. What’s your answer?”

“I’m unfit,” Surya said. “My injury hasn’t healed. It’s still raw, bleeding lightly. The doctor ordered two months of bed rest.”

Rithika’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, Surya. Why hasn’t it healed? Are you resting? People visit your room daily. How many have you USED through this month? You haven’t left your room in three days.”

Surya smirked. “You saw me in my room, half-dressed, didn’t you, Rithika ?”

“Don’t call me Rithika,” she snapped. “It’s Boss or Colonel Rithika.”

“Is all this anger directed at me?” Surya teased.

“Don’t change the topic,” she said. “Let’s discuss the job.”

“Time’s short,” Rithika continued. “The target in Jordan must be eliminated by tomorrow afternoon. The window is narrow. Miss it, and we wait six months.”

“Find someone else,” Surya said. “Haven’t you looked for alternatives?”

“Everyone’s on assignment,” she replied.

“Sorry, Boss. I can’t help.”

Rithika nodded to her secretary. “Send a message to the NSA office: ALPHA 45 is unavailable.”

“No problem, Surya,” she said. “Rest. But be ready asap. Come to my place for dinner tonight.”

“Your husband’s out of town, isn’t he?” Surya quipped.

Rithika raised an eyebrow, gesturing behind him. Surya turned to see Rajiv, her husband.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Rajiv grinned. “Not calling anymore? Too many girlfriends?”

“I’m good, sir,” Surya said. “How about you?”

“Fine,” Rajiv replied. “But your ma’am’s worried sick about you.”

“Take care,” Rajiv added, leaving.

Rithika’s tone shifted. “How’s Anjali?”

Silence.

“And Vaishnavi?”

More silence.

“What’s wrong with you, Surya?”

He stayed quiet.

“What does this silence mean?” she pressed.

“You’ll know soon,” Surya said. “Three more months.”

“They’re both good girls,” Rithika said. “Pick one.”

“I want both,” Surya said, half-serious.

“Do they know?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“You’re digging your own grave,” Rithika warned. “Go talk to Anjali.”

“She’d kill me if she saw me like this,” Surya said. “Nine months of no contact. If I meet her, it won’t end at a coffee shop. We’ll end up at her flat, and in a minute, she’ll see my injury.”

Rithika chuckled. “True. I felt the same seeing you at Leela Palace.”

Surya laughed loudly. “Enough, stop it!”

“Any other updates?” she asked.

“All good,” he said.

“Watch your finances,” Rithika advised. “Need money?”

Surya flashed three fingers. “Vizag, Paris, Delhi.”

“Good,” she said. Her phone rang, and she stepped away for twenty minutes.

Surya rested his head on the table, exhausted. When Rithika returned, she ordered breakfast for them. She tried waking him, but he didn’t stir.

“Bleeding,” he mumbled weakly.

Rithika saw blood pooling under her shoe and froze. She called security, cradled Surya’s head in her lap, and rushed him to the hospital.

Before losing consciousness, Surya whispered, “I need to see Anju and Vaishu once.”

At the hospital’s trauma center, doctors performed a minor surgery, cleaning his injury. Post-operation, they revealed his intestines had developed an infection, which they removed and stitched. “Three days of observation,” they said. “He narrowly escaped septic shock. Lucky guy.”

A nurse approached Rithika. “Who is he to you?”

“My brother,” she said.

“Blood relation?” the nurse asked.

“Work relation,” Rithika clarified.

“Anyone else in his life?” the nurse inquired.

“No one,” Rithika said. “He’s alone.”

“I saw his back during anesthesia,” the nurse confided. “It’s covered in deep scars, beyond scratches. The skin’s torn. The doctor applied ointment and dressed it. They look recent.”

Rithika forced a smile. “Are you married?” she asked the nurse.

Blushing, the nurse shook her head.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Rithika said. “Thanks.”

She paid the bill, sat outside, and sent her secretary to the archives for Surya’s last assignment report. Reading it, one page shocked her. She called Anjali and Vaishnavi, informing them of Surya’s condition, and booked Vaishnavi’s next flight from Vizag.

As she waited, memories of meeting Surya flooded back, and tears fell.

[varunreddy92]

Sir first telugu lo update iyyandi sir

[Viking45]

Shadows of Secrets



Delhi, 2:00 PM



Colonel Rithika sat in the hospital’s waiting area, her mind heavy with questions. Why is this happening to Surya? she thought. He’s been through hell since childhood. No one could fully answer why his life was a cascade of suffering, and the weight of that truth gnawed at her.

Anjali was due to arrive soon, and Rithika knew time was short. There was much to arrange. She hurried to Dr. Shyam’s office, her steps echoing her urgency.

Dr. Shyam, anticipating her, spoke first. “You’re here about the scars on Surya’s back, aren’t you?”

“No,” Rithika said firmly. “Anjali, a young woman, will arrive soon. Tell her Surya has ulcers and underwent a minor operation. Nothing more. Inform your staff—urgent.” Her tone left no room for debate.

Dr. Shyam nodded, picking up his phone to relay the instructions to the duty nurse. “No one enters his room without permission,” he added. “And the report stays confidential.”

Rithika thanked him before shifting the conversation. “Now, about those scars.”

Dr. Shyam hesitated. “With your permission, I’d like to consult a psychologist. It’s in Surya’s best interest.”

“Do it,” Rithika agreed.

Dr. Shyam called Dr. Sravanti, a seasoned psychologist. “Please come to my cabin immediately.”

As they waited, Shyam pressed, “Rithika, how did Surya get those injuries?”

“Let’s wait for Dr. Sravanti,” she replied, her voice tight.

When Dr. Sravanti arrived, Shyam introduced her. “Meet Colonel Rithika.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sravanti said. “What’s the issue?”

Shyam explained: “Surya’s back has fresh wounds, sustained in the last twenty days, despite him being on medical leave. I saw them in the operating theater this morning. What’s your opinion?”

Sravanti turned to Rithika. “Can you share Surya’s details?”

“I can’t disclose that,” Rithika said curtly.

“Then tell me how he got those wounds,” Sravanti insisted.

Rithika’s voice dropped. “He was tortured.”

She immediately called her assistant, ordering non-disclosure agreements (NDAs) for Dr. Shyam, Dr. Sravanti. “Before we continue, you’ll sign NDAs. They’ll take time to prepare, so don’t discuss this with anyone. Meet me at Ashoka Hotel, Suite 1106, at 6:00 PM to continue this discussion.”

Both doctors nodded. “Understood, ma’am,” they said in unison.

Rithika’s secretary arrived, collected their verbal agreement to confidentiality, and was instructed to escort them to the hotel later. Rithika returned to the lobby, her mind racing.



4:00 PM


A familiar Telugu voice broke her thoughts. “Daddy, I just reached the hospital. I’ll check on your son-in-law and call you back. Stop calling me!” Rithika’s head snapped up, startled. An hour already? She spotted Anjali, whose beauty turned heads in the lobby—five feet nine, radiant skin, apple-red cheeks, large eyes, and lips like ripe berries. Even Rithika couldn’t help but stare. Noticing a man sneakily taking photos, Rithika stormed over, forced him to delete the video, and approached Anjali.

“Hi, I’m Surya’s office colleague,” Rithika said.

Anjali smiled warmly. “Hi, I’m Anjali. Surya’s fiancée.”

Rithika froze, shocked. Fiancée?

“Hello? What’s wrong?” Anjali asked.

“Nothing,” Rithika recovered. “Come, I’ll take you to Surya. Can you stay for three days?”

“Three months if it’s for my man,” Anjali replied confidently.
Ritika "I’ve booked a private room for him. They’ll shift him there tomorrow morning. you can stay here tonight, or he has a suite at Ashoka Hotel.”

anjali nodded. “Good. What happened to him?”

“He wasn’t eating on time,” Rithika lied smoothly. “Ulcers formed. He was in pain, so we admitted him. They did a minor operation. That’s all.”

“When did he arrive in Delhi?” Anjali asked.

“6:00 AM today,” Rithika replied.

“He’s okay now, right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Rithika assured her.

“What department are you in?” Anjali asked.

“Human Resources,” Rithika said, keeping it vague.

“Nice! I’m in my final year of MBA at business college,” Anjali shared.

“Surya’s lucky,” Rithika said with a smile.

“No, I’m the luckiest girl,” Anjali countered, her eyes shining.

Rithika’s phone buzzed. It was Vaishnavi. “I just landed in Delhi.”

Rithika sighed inwardly. This complicates things.

Rithika: I’ll be here overnight anyway. So, go to your place, freshen up, and come back. You can stay in Surya’s private room tonight, and I’ll head to the hotel. What do you say?

Anjali: Okay. Delhi isn’t safe at night, so I’ll be back before 8:00 PM.

Rithika: Done.

“Agreed,” Anjali said, thanking her before heading to her flat.

Rithika sipped a coffee to calm her nerves when Vaishnavi entered the hospital, her presence commanding attention. Dressed in a chudidhar, she moved with a grace that made Rithika pause. She’s like a goddess. Men in the lobby gawked, and Rithika felt a pang of protectiveness.

She introduced herself to Vaishnavi as Surya’s colleague, took her to see him, and repeated the ulcer story. Convincing her to rest, Rithika escorted her to Ashoka Hotel, Suite 1105. On the way, Vaishnavi shared their love story, blushing when Rithika asked about marriage plans. “It’s up to him,” she said shyly.

Learning Vaishnavi had exams, Rithika persuaded her to return to Vizag and return back in three days, arranging an early morning flight.



6:00 PM, Ashoka Hotel, Suite 1106



Rithika sat across from Dr. Shyam and Dr. Sravanti. “What you hear or discuss here stays here. You won’t even talk to each other about it outside this room,” she warned, handing them the NDAs to sign.

Sravanti spoke first. “Why was Surya tortured?”

“I can’t disclose that,” Rithika said firmly.

“He’s reliving the pain,” Sravanti said. “He wants to feel it.”

Rithika’s heart sank. “Oh my God.”

“Yes,” Sravanti continued. “Traumatic experiences can cause this. If we don’t address it, he might harm himself or others.”

“Leave it here,” Rithika said, her voice strained.

“If you tell me what happened, I can help him,” Sravanti pressed. “This isn’t something to ignore.”

“Inform me the moment he’s conscious,” Rithika ordered. “I speak to him first. No one else enters. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Shyam and Sravanti said, leaving the room.

Rithika returned to the hospital, spoke briefly with Anjali, and asked her to return in two days. She dropped Anjali at her flat and headed to the office at midnight.

The file on Surya’s last assignment was heavily redacted, offering no clear answers. To access details, she needed higher security clearance—meaning a conversation with Brigadier Sinha, her superior. She drove to his office, steeling herself.

“Colonel Rithika,” Sinha greeted. “What brings you here?”

“We need to talk about Surya’s last assignment,” she said.

“You don’t have clearance,” Sinha replied.

“That’s why I’m here,” Rithika countered.

“I can’t help,” Sinha said, his tone final.

Rithika recounted her discussion with Dr. Shyam and Dr. Sravanti, emphasizing Surya’s urgent need for help. “Please, Brigadier. He needs us.”

“No, Rithika,” Sinha said. “This involves powerful people.”

“Politicians?” she asked.

“No.”

“Our own people?”

“No.”

“Industrialists’ families?” Rithika pressed. “The Aggarwals?”

Sinha’s silence was telling. “I can’t confirm or deny that.”

Rithika nodded. “I understand.” She switched tactics. “Answer my questions with your reactions, not words. That way, you’re not breaking rules, and I’ll piece it together.”

Sinha agreed reluctantly. “Fine.”

“Is a woman from the Aggarwal family involved?” Rithika asked.

Sinha met her eyes.

“How many other women are involved?”

Sinha looked aside.

“Three?” Rithika guessed.

Sinha’s gaze returned.

“Are they from prominent business families too?”

Sinha’s eyes held steady.

“Is Rupa Aggarwal linked to Surya’s operation?”

Sinha didn’t blink.

“Where is she now?”

Sinha glanced right.

“Is she alive?”

Sinha’s eyes locked on hers.

“What about the other two?”

Sinha looked up.

“One last question,” Rithika said. “Do you have Surya’s psychological evaluation report?”

Sinha handed her an envelope. “I was waiting for you to ask.”

Rithika stepped outside, opened the envelope, and read the report. Her breath caught. “Oh my God…” The words seared into her: “No human could endure such horror and emerge whole. His pain is beyond physical. He is a broken man. If possible, end his suffering as a mercy.”

Her vision blurred, and she collapsed, the report slipping from her hands.

[kusishka]

thank you.