SCENE 1 — HOTEL AZURE PALACE, MUMBAI — EARLY MORNING
INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR — 6TH FLOOR — EARLY MORNING
Rain pelts Mumbai. The storm outside hums through the sealed hotel windows. Dim corridor lights flicker as KUSHAL, 32, sharply dressed concierge, walks down the quiet hallway holding a master keycard.
He stops at Room 607. Uneasy. Checks his logbook.
KUSHAL
(calling softly)
Hello? Room service…
Knocks. No answer. Hesitates. Then—slides the keycard. Click. Door unlocks.
INT. ROOM 607 — CONTINUOUS
A/C whirs. The room is still, curtain drawn. A soft blue light from outside seeps in. Kushal enters cautiously.
His eyes scan the room. Everything seems untouched. Then—
He sees it.
A woman's body lies face down near the center of the living room carpet. One hand outstretched. A slowly congealing pool of blood near the head.
Kushal freezes. Drops his keys. Staggers back.
KUSHAL
(whispers breathlessly)
Oh my god…
He fumbles his walkie-talkie. Voice shaking.
KUSHAL
Security—607. Emergency. It's bad. Very bad.
He backs away from the room as we slowly TRACK IN toward the motionless form on the floor. The camera tilts up — shadows of raindrops racing across the windowpane.
SMASH TO BLACK.
[TITLE CARD FADES IN] — BLACK SQUAD: EPISODE 167 — "THE SIXTH FLOOR"SCENE 2 — HOTEL LOBBY — MORNING
INT. HOTEL AZURE PALACE — LOBBY — MORNING
A steady rain hisses outside the revolving glass doors. The lobby is grand but tense — velvet ropes mark off the elevators, with uniformed police standing guard. Guests huddle anxiously at a distance, whispering.
The elevator dings.
BLACK SQUAD steps out.
A.C.P. SULAIMAN QAZI leads with quiet authority, dressed in a dark trench coat.
Behind him, Senior Inspectors IMRAN WANI and ARJUN RATHORE trail — sharp-eyed, purposeful.
Hotel staff shift nervously.
An aging manager in a suit, RAJIV MALHOTRA, 50s, greets them hurriedly, wiping sweat from his brow.
RAJIV MALHOTRA
(slightly out of breath)
A.C.P. Qazi, sir… we've isolated the sixth floor. As per your orders.
QAZI
(stern)
Six floors. Six murders. You didn't think that warranted calling us sooner?
Rajiv opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes.
QAZI
(cutting)
Where's your guest list? Staff logs? I want full access — digital and physical. Nothing withheld.
RAJIV
(nods quickly)
Yes sir. We're compiling everything now.
ARJUN
(to Imran, murmuring)
Six murders. Six floors. All inside a luxury hotel in two weeks — and not one guest saw a thing?
IMRAN
(glancing around)
Either the killer's invisible…
ARJUN
Or he's wearing a uniform like everyone else.
Qazi gives both men a quiet look — acknowledging the thought.
QAZI
(quietly)
Let's go upstairs. See what kind of ghost leaves blood trails behind.
CUT TO: The team heading toward the service elevator. The lobby fades behind them, tension hanging like the storm beyond the glass.
CUT TO BLACK.SCENE 3 — ROOM 607 — MORNING
INT. ROOM 607 — EARLY MORNING
Dim natural light filters through the half-closed curtains. The A/C hums softly. Forensics lights flicker as the BLACK SQUAD steps inside, methodical.
DR. R.P. GUPTA, meticulous in gloves and goggles, kneels near the body — a well-dressed woman in her 30s, face down. A clean slice to the neck shows no signs of struggle — the blood long dried into the fibers of the carpet.
ARJUN scans the perimeter. IMRAN stands by the door, scrutinizing the lock.
DR. GUPTA
(speaks quietly, like in a lecture)
No hesitation, no slash variation.
Same depth. Same angle. Same blade type — again.
He looks up at Qazi now standing near the window.
DR. GUPTA (CONT'D)
Precise as a surgeon. Or a soldier.
Qazi doesn't blink.
QAZI
You're saying our killer repeats with ritual?
DR. GUPTA
Ritual? This is beyond that.
He's surgical. Almost… obsessive.
IMRAN
(checking the inner lock mechanism)
Room was locked from the inside. No indications of forced entry. No tampering on the key panel.
ARJUN
(glancing at the windows)
And no way in or out through here without alarms.
(sinking into thought)
He's either invisible…
He eyes the crisp towel on the bed, the precisely folded housekeeping slip.
ARJUN (CONT'D)
…or he was trusted.
Beat. Silence. Rain continues tapping the window.
Dr. Gupta gently turns over the woman's hand, revealing faint bruising on the wrist — not consistent with restraint, but suggestive of resistance withheld.
DR. GUPTA
Victim didn't fight back. Either she knew him…
—or never got the chance.
QAZI
(low, to himself)
He plans ahead. Controls fear. Controls time.
He turns to the squad.
QAZI (CONT'D)
Start backgrounding her. Fast.
Intelligence, routines, anyone on her contact list.
IMRAN
On it.
ARJUN
(calling out)
Forensics — bag the bedding, carpet sample, drain swab. I want trace materials, fibers, anything.
Qazi walks slowly around the room, absorbing the precise chaos.
QAZI
(coldly)
Six lives. Six statements. He wants us to understand something.
From the hallway, a uniformed officer's voice interrupts faintly, muffled.
OFFICER (O.S.)
Sir! CCTV team's ready for you downstairs.
Qazi takes one long look at the victim before turning away.
QAZI
(to Imran and Arjun)
Let's find the message he left before he starts writing number seven.
They exit, shadows cutting through the doorway as forensic flashes go off behind them.
CUT TO: SCENE 4 – HOTEL CONTROL ROOM – LATER THAT DAYSCENE 4 — HOTEL CONTROL ROOM — AFTERNOON
INT. HOTEL AZURE PALACE – CONTROL ROOM – 3:17 PM
Cramped. Fluorescent lighting. Stacks of monitors line the walls, most looping routine footage from elevators, hallways, and entrances. But a few feed windows display only static or frozen frames.
SACHIN, late 20s, hoodie over his tactical vest, sits at the heart of the room tapping on a tablet and keyboard simultaneously, multi-tasking at full speed. His eyes flick between the CCTV console and his portable decryption toolkit.
IMRAN and QAZI watch from behind, arms folded, tension thick.
SACHIN
(grimaces)
All floors between 2:00 to 4:00 AM last night — blackout.
ARJUN
Coincidence?
SACHIN
Nope. This wasn't someone yanking a few cables.
taps a command, screen splits into logs
SACHIN (CONT'D)
Someone used an administrator override. Logged in through the hotel's back-end system. That's not public... even most staff wouldn't have that level of access.
IMRAN
So we're looking at an inside hand?
SACHIN
(settings aggressive filters)
Or someone who hacked in, posed as internal admin.
Either way — they killed the cameras, scrubbed segments, and even reset motion sensors on floors 505 and 607.
QAZI
(flat)
How many people have that clearance?
HOTEL IT TECHNICIAN, sidelined in the corner, fumbles with his badge tablet.
TECHNICIAN
Just three, sir — lead systems manager, myself... and a backup key held at the general manager's desk.
ARJUN
(eyeing Qazi)
And I'm guessing all their access logs conveniently 'vanished'?
SACHIN
(nods)
Wiped clean right after the footage. Pro-level job. No digital footprints.
A short pause. Rain crackles against the windowed parapet behind them.
QAZI
What about biometric logins? Someone had to physically be near the server rack.
SACHIN
Working on it. Thermal pings show access door opened at 2:13 AM. I'm isolating elevator badge data during that window.
He pulls up a visual reconstruction of the control server timeline — a full wipe occurs at 2:34 AM, followed by a reinitialization.
SACHIN (CONT'D)
(realizing)
Wait… there's a spike in Room 505's Wi-Fi usage exactly during that blackout. Large upload burst. Possibly remote routing traffic.
IMRAN
That's our ghost's hideout.
QAZI
(turns to Arjun)
Get Shreya. Staff interviews — IT crew, night janitors, visiting vendors. Someone saw something.
He steps closer to the frozen segment on screen — hallway footage from 6th floor. A woman passes. Silence. Then a blank screen.
QAZI (CONT'D)
(quietly, to himself)
He erased himself… but he's still leaving signals.
CUT TO:
SCENE 5 — STAFF QUARTERS — EVENINGSCENE 5 — STAFF QUARTERS — EVENING
INT. SERVICE FLOOR – BACK CORRIDOR – EVENING
Flickering fluorescent tubes overhead. The back hall smells faintly of disinfectant and boiler oil. Field Officer SHREYA, sharp-eyed and composed, walks with a notepad, accompanied by a local uniform officer.
She enters the modest staff break area — vending machine humming, worn chairs, and lockers stacked with half-open doors. Several housekeeping staff sit nervously, mid-shift, their uniforms spotless but their faces tense.
SHREYA flashes her badge.
SHREYA
Evening. I just have a few questions. Calm, cooperative answers — we'll all be done faster.
The group nods. SHREYA walks down the line, scanning faces. She stops in front of a slim young man — AVINASH, 22, looks soft-spoken, eyes downward.
SHREYA
You — what's your name?
AVINASH
(quietly)
Avinash Deshmukh, ma'am. Housekeeping rotation. Sixth and fifth floors.
SHREYA
You cleaned Room 607 yesterday?
AVINASH
Yes… yes, morning hours. I refilled the water. TV was on mute. Nothing strange.
SHREYA
Think carefully. Did you see anyone unusual entering or leaving any rooms near that area?
Avinash fidgets, glances at coworkers. Avoids eye contact.
AVINASH
Ma'am… two days back, I saw someone — entering Room 505. Didn't look like a guest.
Shreya stiffens.
SHREYA
Go on.
AVINASH
Tall guy. About six foot. Stubble. Black hoodie with the cap up — covered half his face. I remember because… we usually don't see guests go into 505. It was marked vacant on my list.
SHREYA
What time?
AVINASH
Late evening. Just before my shift ended. No luggage, no keycard — just walked in like he belonged.
SHREYA
Did you tell the hotel desk?
AVINASH
(shakes head)
I didn't want trouble. Thought maybe he was staff… or VIP.
Shreya jots fast. Looks at him again.
SHREYA
Did you notice anything about his hands? Tattoos? Limp? Anything off?
AVINASH
(thinks)
No limp… but he had a glove on one hand. Right one. Looked like biker gloves.
That catches Shreya's attention. She closes the notepad slowly.
SHREYA
You've just become useful, Avinash.
She stands, signals the officer beside her.
SHREYA (CONT'D)
We'll need security access for Room 505. Have Arjun and Gupta meet me there.
CUT TO:
SCENE 6 — ROOM 505 — NIGHTSCENE 6 — ROOM 505 — NIGHT
INT. ROOM 505 — HOTEL AZURE PALACE — NIGHT
The door clicks open. A shaft of flashlight beams pierces the darkness. The room is neat — too neat. No personal effects, no luggage, bed turned down by default.
ARJUN enters first, his eyes scanning methodically. DR. GUPTA follows with a forensics team, gear cases swinging with each step. SHREYA is already there, waiting with a printed guest access report.
ARJUN
(sees empty space)
Vacant. Just like Avinash said. Someone used it as a ghost room.
SHREYA
No official entry in the system.
But I checked linen records — this room's laundry was logged three times in two days.
DR. GUPTA
Killer might've staged here. Slipped in and out without check-in. Good way to hide digital trails.
He starts a UV sweep across the room.
Click. Something glows faintly beneath the edge of the headboard.
ARJUN kneels, retrieves a small hotel laundry slip — slightly creased and torn.
ARJUN
Found something. Tag marked "KD — 505 / Wed"... initials that don't match any names on file.
He hands it to Shreya.
SHREYA
Decoding soft tag ID—this correlates with a manual laundry request. Name used: "Mr. Karan Deep."
Everyone pauses.
DR. GUPTA
Fake name?
SHREYA
(checking tablet)
Nothing in the guest registry under that name. But system shows entry made via guest app login — unsecured network.
ARJUN
So he forged a digital trail to match a fake physical ID. Smart. Clean.
Dr. Gupta refocuses his UV beam, illuminating two partial fingerprints near the minibar — one clear enough for sampling.
DR. GUPTA
Finally, something human. We'll lift this and cross-match it through NIC and military archives.
ARJUN
Whatever he was doing here, it wasn't rest.
He opens the closet — it's empty but for a single wire hanger… bent sideways. As if something heavy once hung from it.
SHREYA (quietly)
Someone was planning. Watching movements. Spending nights just… waiting.
Dr. Gupta nods as he snaps glove off his right hand.
DR. GUPTA
This wasn't a kill room. It was a staging bay.
ARJUN
Every murder starts with a plan. This is where he built it.
SHREYA
And "Karan Deep" was just a mask.
ARJUN
(grim)
Let's find the face behind it.
CUT TO:
SCENE 7 — HQ — LATE NIGHT
Sachin decrypts the fake identity. A dishonorably discharged name re-emerges: Ronit Aggarwal…
—SCENE 7 — HQ — LATE NIGHT
INT. BLACK SQUAD HEADQUARTERS — CYBER LAB — LATE NIGHT
Blue glow of multiple screens bathes the room in sharp light. The hum of servers and quiet keyboard clicks fill the air. SACHIN, focused and intense, sits front and center, cross-referencing guest logs and encrypted databases.
With deliberate taps, he decrypts a forged ID document and digital fingerprints.
SACHIN
(low, to himself)
"Mr. Karan Deep" — doesn't exist in any registry... but wait...
He pulls up military and government clearance databases side-by-side.
SACHIN (CONT'D)
Matched. Name flagged.
RONIT AGGARWAL. Ex-serviceman. Dishonorably discharged two years ago.
IMRAN (leaning in)
That explains precision. Military training and grudge.
SACHIN
And here's the key: Ronit fought against the system. Court-martialed — claims he was framed.
His digital footprint? Practically erased... except this fake laundry tag.
QAZI steps closer, voice low, eyes narrowing.
QAZI
So the "sixth floor" murders? Retribution.
SACHIN
Exactly. Each victim — linked to his court-martial. Banker. Lawyer. Officer. Reporter. All involved in his downfall.
Sachin pulls up a schematic of the hotel floors, marking the victims' rooms.
SACHIN (CONT'D)
He waited years, then chose their reunion spot. Calculated. Precise. Emotional.
ARJUN (grim)
A battlefield he picked for his revenge.
QAZI
Then we take the fight to him.
The team steels themselves, the weight of the hunt clear in their faces. Outside, rain continues to fall relentlessly.
CUT TO BLACK.SCENE 8 — HOTEL PARKING LOT — NEXT DAY
EXT. HOTEL AZURE PALACE — PARKING LOT — DAY
The rain has stopped but the air remains heavy and humid. The parking lot is mostly empty, shadows long under the grey sky. A motorbike stands alone near the far corner, keys dangling from the ignition.
RONIT AGGARWAL, mid-30s, lean and purposeful, approaches the bike. His black hoodie is now down, revealing a sharp, battle-hardened face.
Suddenly, BLACK SQUAD members appear swiftly from different angles — ARJUN, IMRAN, QAZI leading the charge.
ARJUN
(shouting)
Ronit Aggarwal! Hands up! Don't make this worse!
Ronit halts. Calm and collected, he looks up — eyes hard, unrepentant.
RONIT
(calmly)
They deserved it.
Without warning, Ronit lunges forward, a knife glinting in his hand.
IMRAN
(dive tackle)
Now!
Imran tackles him to the ground in a tight grapple. The knife skids away, clattering on the concrete.
QAZI
(handcuffing)
You're done, Ronit.
Ronit struggles briefly, then relaxes — defeated but unfazed.
RONIT
(quietly, almost resigned)
The battlefield ends… but the war inside never will.
The squad pulls Ronit to his feet, surrounding him. The camera slowly pulls back to reveal the empty, wet lot around them.
CUT TO BLACK.
---
🌒 POST-CREDITS SCENE — BLACK SQUAD: EPISODE 167 — "The Sixth Floor"
EXT. MUMBAI CITY OUTSKIRTS — INDUSTRIAL HIGHWAY — NIGHTRain returns, light but insistent, tracing streaks across the blackened asphalt highway.
A police convoy of three vehicles — one white SUV, one Mumbai Police van, and a Black Squad interceptor car — cruise in a tight formation.
Inside the van, DANNY DONG, late 40s, notorious underworld fixer, sits handcuffed and smirking, chained to the floor.
INT. INTERCEPTOR (LEAD) — CONTINUOUSINSPECTOR RAJAT, eyes alert.
SUB-INSPECTOR KAJAL, riding shotgun, maps the route.
INSPECTOR KAVIN, rear position, scans the dark roads behind.
EXT. ESCORT VEHICLE — MIDDLE VAN — CONTINUOUSACP VIJAY KUMAR, late 50s, stern, battle-hardened, sits beside Danny and nods toward the driver.
VIJAY KUMAR
(to driver)
Thirty minutes till drop. Stay on direct route. No detours.
DANNY DONG
(grinning)
Funny… looks like someone's expecting me.
Vijay glances at him, frowns.
EXT. HIGHWAY TURN — MOMENTS LATER*A truck passes… then suddenly—
BOOM! An IED explodes under the road just ahead. All three vehicles SCREECH to a halt.
LIGHTS CUT OUT OF THE VAN.
Gunfire pierces the darkness from both sides of the highway. Muzzle flashes burst from the treeline.
INT. INTERCEPTOR — CONTINUOUS RAJAT
Ambush!
KAVIN leaps out, firing sidearm, covering Kajal's exit.
KAJAL (yelling)
Multiple shooters—night vision! They're military trained!
EXT. ROADSIDE CHAOS — CONTINUOUS
The police van's side blows open, Danny ducks — uninjured — as bullets rip through the rear cabin. Vijay pushes a constable behind cover.
ACP VIJAY KUMAR
(shouting)
Hold positions! Don't break formation!
But they're being overrun.
One by one, the squad falls under the precision assault — masked gunmen with silenced assault weapons, thermal gear, and dark ops uniforms.
Kavin takes two shots to the chest, drops.
Kajal is hit in the leg — fires back until her clip empties.
Rajat crawls toward the van, dragging another wounded officer.
Then — a low, heavy V8 rumble grows louder.
A matte black HUMMER pulls up behind the van, headlights off. The doors open.
Heavy boots step out.
A tall man in a sleek black overcoat and gloves approaches the carnage with calm, predatory precision.
Vijay lifts his weapon — wounded, trembling — but lowers it on recognition.
CLOSE ON — VIJAY'S FACEVIJAY KUMAR
(hoarse, stunned)
You?
The man doesn't speak. He raises a custom Chrome Beretta.
BLAM! — Shot fired point-blank. Vijay crumples.
WIDE SHOT — DARK HIGHWAY
The masked attackers execute the remaining officers with calm brutality. Kajal screams, silenced with a final shot.
Danny Dong is unchained, outfitted with a jacket by the mystery man's soldiers.
DANNY DONG
(playfully)
You're always on time, boss.
The man nods once. Then turns to the gunmen.
MYSTERY MAN
Torch the site. No witnesses. Zero trace.
The men get to work.
FINAL IMAGE:Fire builds behind the convoy. Silhouettes of smoke, death, and betrayal burn under flickering storm-light.
The black Hummer disappears into the night, taking Danny Dong back into the shadows.
FADE TO BLACK.