As the sun began to set, the winds grew biting cold. The mountains, which had appeared serene and majestic in the morning light, now loomed ominously as the darkness of the night deepened. Nestled between the peaks of the Rajouri-Poonch sector lay the village of Kangari. The scattered lights from the houses created a deceptive paradise, for often, the most beautiful and peaceful sights conceal the deepest, most dangerous wounds.
Terrorists patrolled the village, their eyes scanning every corner. Some were busy planting landmines in the rocky terrain, while others kept a strict watch over the plains.
Scene Shift
Inside a large house located in the center of the village, the atmosphere was suffocating. A man with a dark complexion and brown eyes, marked by a deep scar running from his forehead down to his chin, smiled in a terrifying manner. He wore a black combat uniform, distinct from the others. He adjusted a video camera on a tripod.
"So, I hope I am clearly visible to you all," Nazim said, staring into the lens. Come, let me show you something spectacular. Watch closely, gentlemen."
Nazim grabbed the camera, switching it to the rear view without stopping the recording. He panned the camera to reveal a sight that would make even a soul tremble.
Three men. One lay beheaded at the doorway. The second was mutilated, only his torso visible. The third was nailed to the wall, his body hanging grotesquely. And then, there were two women... but the horror was too great to even describe further.
"Hehehe... Did you like it?" Nazim's voice dripped with sadism. "I enjoyed it too. Now, if you don't want to see more such 'wonders,' then listen carefully. I want Shaiyad Hamza Jamali, 100 crores, and a helicopter for my exit. And remember, no tricks. There are plenty of innocent little girls here too. Gegege... hahahah..."
The video recording cut off abruptly.
Scene Shift
"What is the Indian Army doing? We take such pride in our soldiers, yet terrorists have infiltrated our country! Yes friends, today's breaking news: Kangari, a small village, has been captured by terrorists. Innocents are being tortured. What is the Indian government doing? Is it safe to live in this country? As long as terrorists like Nazim enter fearlessly, our survival isn't just difficult, it's impossible! There is an atmosphere of fear among the people. What is the governm—"
Defense Minister Mahendra Lal Verma switched off the TV and rose from his seat. He paused the video of Nazim's threat on his tablet, took a heavy breath, and removed his Bluetooth earbuds.
"Manager, call Commander Subramanya Iyer."
"Okay, calling Commander Subramanya Iyer," the device responded. The Minister sank back onto the sofa.
"Call connected."
"Hello, Jai Hind, Sir. Commander Subramanya Iyer reporting, Sir."
"Yes, yes, what is going on, brother? Can't you people do one job properly? Do you know how much pressure is on me here? I have other work to do! And whatever that Nazim is asking for, just give it to him quietly. Just get this burden off my neck, man," the Minister said, his voice laced with irritation.
"But Sir, you don't understand the situation, those peop—"
"But war... I don't want to hear anything! Just wrap this up quickly. Hang up now." The Minister cut Iyer off mid-sentence and disconnected the call.
"Sir, the public is waiting for you outside," the Minister's manager announced.
"Haa... huff. Let's go give the poor some false hope," the Minister said, donning his white cap. He put on a practiced smile. Mahendra Lal Verma, India's Defense Minister, aged around 50-52, wore a white Nehru jacket over a kurta-pyjama. He was bald, with only a ring of hair remaining.
Scene Shift: Forward Post
"Yeah... bloody bastard, pimp, coward! They are eating away at our country, and we are forced to sit here with our hands tied!" Commander Subramanya Iyer slammed the phone down in a fit of rage, shouting uncontrollably.
"It's not his fault," he muttered to himself, pacing around the camp in tension. "This implies to the people of this country too. Slavery is in their blood, no matter how big of a traitor is ruling them... dammit!"
Scene Shift
Deep in the jungle, perfectly camouflaged against the foliage, Team 1 moved into position.
"On position. Team Garud on position. Target is right in front of our eyes. Repeat, on position," the leader, Virendra Rajput, whispered into his walkie-talkie.
"Sir, Team Garud has taken position," the comms officer relayed the information immediately via secure encrypted channels to the forward post where the rest of the soldiers and Iyer were stationed.
"What? Well done. What is the position of the others?" Commander Iyer asked, his focus sharpening.
"Team 2, Guru, on position, Sir," Leader Husain Ali Khan reported over the radio.
"Well done, my boys. Proud of you all. What about Team 3?"
"Sir, Team Dhanno is in position. Target locked. Just give the order, and we will blow these bastards' heads off!" Vijay Pandey lay prone on the ground, his sniper scope steady, his finger hovering over the trigger.
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Upcoming: CIVILIAN REALITY (VILLAGE POV)