An Imperial Affliction

The silence in Police Commissioner Raghu Ram's study was heavy, broken only by the erratic tapping of his fingers against his glasses. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a stark contrast to the quiet dignity he usually exuded. Minutes earlier, a phone call had shattered his world.
"Your daughter has been kidnapped," the voice on the other end had rasped, "Fifty lacs. Don't try anything."
Money wasn't the issue. His daughter, Sheen, was. Torn between the duty of a Commissioner and the desperate plea of a father, he stood at a precipice. He couldn't just pay, couldn't set a precedent, but the threat against Sheen's life echoed in his mind.
Suddenly, a flicker of resolve crossed his face. He adjusted his glasses, rummaged through a drawer, and pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number he hadn't called in years. It rang twice before a female voice answered.
"I need your help," he said, the words a strained exhale. His gaze drifted to a framed photo on his desk – a younger Sheen, beaming, oblivious to the shadows that now loomed.
