The countdown glowed red in Kabir's hand.
04:32
04:31
04:30
Aanya felt the air leave her lungs.
"That's not connected to the tracks," she whispered. "It's connected to the train."
Kabir nodded once. Calm. Focused.
"Where would they plant it?"
Aanya's mind raced. "If they wanted maximum impact… center coach. Structural weak point."
"Coach B2," Kabir said.
The same coach where everything began.
The same coach filled with innocent passengers.
The timer dropped to 04:05.
Kabir turned to the driver. "Slow the train manually."
"I—I can't," the driver stammered. "Override locked the throttle."
"Then reduce power gradually. Do something."
The driver's shaking hands moved over switches and levers.
The train's speed dipped slightly — but not enough.
03:48.
Kabir looked at Aanya. "Stay here. Guide him."
"What about you?"
"I'm going back."
Her eyes widened. "Alone?"
"Yes."
Before she could argue, he was already climbing back out through the broken hatch onto the roof.
Wind hit him violently again as he sprinted toward the center coaches.
The train roared beneath him like a living beast.
03:21.
He jumped across the gaps carefully but fast, ignoring the sting in his palms and knees.
Inside Coach B2, passengers were still in panic. Some were crying. Some praying. Some trying to call family members with no signal.
Kabir dropped through the connector into the coach.
"Everyone listen!" he shouted.
The panic barely quieted.
"There's a device on this train. I need space. Move to the ends of the coach. Now!"
Fear spread faster than fire.
"What device?" someone cried.
"No time!" Kabir barked.
02:54.
He scanned quickly under seats, near luggage racks, along the structural panels near the wheels.
Nothing.
He crouched near the central support beam between seats.
Then he saw it.
A black metal box bolted beneath the lower berth frame.
Wires connected into the train's electrical system.
Red blinking light.
02:31.
Kabir knelt and inspected it.
Not military standard.
Custom built.
Deadly.
He pulled out the small pistol magazine he had taken earlier and used its edge to pry open the casing.
Inside—
A digital timer synced to the device in his hand.
Three wires.
Red.
Blue.
Yellow.
Of course.
He exhaled slowly.
02:05.
Footsteps behind him.
Aanya.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said without looking back.
"You think I'd let you guess alone?" she replied.
He glanced at her quickly.
"You understand circuits?"
"I understand logic."
01:49.
She crouched beside him.
"The bomb's powered through train current," she said quickly. "If we cut the wrong wire, voltage spike could trigger instant detonation."
"Suggestions?"
She examined the small circuit board carefully.
"The red is main power. Too obvious."
"The blue?"
"Probably failsafe."
Her eyes locked on the yellow.
"Signal wire."
01:22.
Kabir's fingers hovered over it.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
The timer dropped.
00:58.
Passengers were crying louder now.
Kabir looked at Aanya.
"If this goes wrong—"
"It won't," she said firmly, though her hands trembled.
00:32.
He grabbed the yellow wire.
00:20.
His breathing slowed.
00:10.
Aanya closed her eyes.
Kabir cut the wire.
Silence.
00:03
00:02
00:01
The timer froze.
00:01.
No explosion.
No fire.
Only the sound of the train racing forward.
Aanya opened her eyes slowly.
"It stopped," she whispered.
Kabir leaned back against the seat, tension finally leaving his body.
But then—
The small screen flickered again.
A second timer appeared.
01:59.
Kabir stared at it.
"They built a backup."
And somewhere ahead—
The broken bridge was still waiting.