गए तो थे दुश्मन को हराने,

पर न जाने कब उनकी आँखों पर मर मिटे। Mohini

This chapter is dedicated to all Indian Defence Officers and their families, with respect and gratitude.

Indian Ocean - 0200 Hours

The Indian Ocean had become almost unrecognizable beneath the darkness of the night. It was two o'clock in the morning, yet there was nothing peaceful about the vast stretch of water surrounding the naval ship the usually restless surface had transformed into a violent, unpredictable force, with enormous swells rising one after another and disappearing into the darkness only to return with even greater strength. The wind screamed across the deck, carrying the cold smell of seawater through every opening of the ship, while the massive waves repeatedly struck the vessel with such force that the entire structure seemed to tremble beneath the pressure.

"Sir, the massive swells are coming directly toward the ship."

Aadya Chauhan, a sailor of the Indian Navy, remained at her position beside the controls, her hands firmly placed upon the engine mechanism while her eyes remained fixed on the violent ocean ahead. She was wearing her naval uniform, and although the tension surrounding her was impossible to ignore, she had trained herself not to allow fear to dictate her movements. Her fingers remained steady against the controls while her eyes continuously calculated the movement of the waves, trying to anticipate their next direction before they reached the ship.

At the front of the bridge stood the commanding Captain, Agneya Singh Thakur, his hands held behind his back as he watched the ocean through the wide glass windows. His expression remained remarkably composed despite the sight before him. The waves were rising higher and higher.

"Keep the bow into the waves!"

His command travelled across the bridge with absolute authority.

Aadya immediately adjusted her grip on the controls while Manveer, another sailor stationed nearby, began monitoring the engine and the incoming swell. The ocean seemed to answer the Captain's command with even greater violence, because another enormous wave rose before them, its crest twisting beneath the wind before crashing downward toward the ship.

The once-quiet ocean had become furious.

Wave after wave rose toward the sky as though the sea itself were trying to reach the heavens, climbing higher with every movement before collapsing under its own enormous weight and immediately gathering strength for the next assault. The waves struck the vessel repeatedly, throwing seawater across the bow and forcing the ship to roll beneath the pressure, yet the sailors remained at their positions, refusing to allow the violent ocean to dictate their course.

The first massive wave slammed directly against the bow.

The impact shook the entire vessel.

A deep, thunderous thud travelled through the structure, followed almost immediately by another violent impact as a second wave struck the ship from a different angle. Aadya's shoulders tensed instinctively, but her hands remained on the controls as she fought to keep the vessel aligned.

"Maintaining course, sir!" she called, her voice carrying through the bridge despite the continuous roar of the sea.

Manveer looked toward the instruments and then toward the waves outside, his expression becoming increasingly tense as he continued controlling the engine.

"Another heavy wave is coming toward us, sir!"

The ship rolled sharply as the approaching swell collided with the bow, and for several seconds the deck seemed to tilt beneath them. Equipment rattled, the glass windows vibrated, and the sailors had to widen their stance to maintain their balance.

The ocean showed no mercy.

It continued throwing one enormous wave after another toward the ship, forcing the vessel to rise and fall unpredictably upon the water. Every impact made the bridge tremble, and every sudden movement demanded another correction from the sailors.

Aadya's hands tightened around the controls as sweat began forming across her forehead despite the cold wind entering through the surrounding openings. Her posture remained straight, but the tension was visible in the way her shoulders held themselves rigidly while her eyes refused to leave the waves.

"Captain, the waves are hitting the bow harder every second," she said, her voice carrying a nervous edge despite her attempt to remain composed.

Manveer checked the readings through his headset and immediately looked toward Agneya.

Agneya did not even hesitate.

"Maintain the course."

The answer came so quickly and firmly that both sailors looked toward him.

Aadya and Manveer exchanged a brief glance before returning their attention to the controls. They understood what the order meant. There would be no retreat, no attempt to escape the storm by turning the ship away from the waves. They were going directly through it.

Both sailors tightened their grip and began making the necessary adjustments.

The ship rose sharply over another wave and then dropped into the trough on the other side, creating a violent movement that caused the entire vessel to tilt. For several seconds it felt as though the ship might lose its balance completely, but the sailors fought against the movement and brought it back toward its intended alignment.

"Turn the board to sixty degrees!" Agneya commanded.

"Aye, Captain!"

Aadya immediately moved both hands across the controls, adjusting the steering mechanism with rapid precision. Her fingers moved quickly but deliberately as she brought the vessel toward the required angle, continuously watching the movement of the waves so that she could make another correction if necessary.

Agneya turned toward Manveer.

"What is the range of the next wave?"

Manveer immediately focused on the readings through his headphones, listening carefully to the information being transmitted through the monitoring system while the roar of the ocean continued around him.

"Three hundred and seventy-five, sir!"

Agneya's eyes returned to the ocean.

"The waves are converging. Bring the ship head-on at ninety degrees."

Manveer's expression tightened as he listened again.

"Sir, the heavy swell is approaching from this direction."

The ship suddenly tilted again.

Aadya gripped the controls harder as the vessel rose beneath the pressure of the approaching wave, and the sailors around her instinctively widened their stance to maintain their balance. Their uniforms were beginning to become damp from the seawater spraying across the deck, their faces were tense, and their breathing had become heavier, but none of them stepped away from their stations.

They knew that the sea was testing them.

And they had no intention of failing.

Suddenly, amidst the roar of the waves and the continuous vibration of the vessel, the sharp sound of tactical boots echoed through the upper corridor.

Someone was running up the stairs.

The footsteps grew louder as the figure climbed toward the upper deck, and before anyone could properly react, the door opened and a naval officer emerged into the violent night.

The wind immediately struck his body with tremendous force, throwing his uniform against him while his hair moved wildly beneath the storm. The ship rolled beneath his feet, but he adjusted his balance without hesitation and continued toward the edge of the deck.

Another enormous wave struck the vessel.

The ship tilted violently.

He momentarily lost his footing, but instead of retreating, he reached for the rope secured nearby and wrapped it firmly around his hand.

The Indian flag, which had been secured upon the vessel, had been torn loose by the violent movement of the wind and waves.

For one terrifying moment, the flag appeared to be falling directly toward the ocean.

His eyes immediately followed it.

Without allowing himself even a second of hesitation, he moved toward it.

The rope stretched through the air as he used it to stabilize himself, and with the vessel continuing to rise and fall beneath the massive waves, he reached out and caught hold of the Indian flag before it could disappear into the ocean.

He brought it carefully into his hands.

For a moment, the entire world seemed to disappear from his mind.

The ocean was still roaring.

The wind was still attacking the deck.

The ship was still moving violently beneath his feet.

Ye he stood there, holding the flag with a tenderness that seemed almost sacred, his eyes resting upon it as though he were gazing at something far more precious than anything in this world.

A smile slowly appeared upon his face.

He carefully hoisted the flag on the ship, allowing it to rise above him as the wind caught it and spread its colours across the darkness.

He then raised his hand in salute.

"Jai Hind."

His voice carried through the storm.

The words were simple, but the pride in them was unmistakable.

The name Lieutenant Vasuki Tripathi was displayed upon his uniform, positioned close to his heart, and as he stood beneath the violently moving flag, his posture remained unwavering despite the ship continuing to roll beneath him. The wind struck his face, his hair moved wildly around his forehead, and seawater covered parts of his uniform, yet his eyes remained fixed upon the flag with the devotion of a man standing before something he considered sacred.

Inside the bridge.

Aadya swallowed nervously and returned her attention to the controls.

"Action, sir."

Agneya nodded.

The ship continued forward.

Another massive wave rose directly ahead, its crest appearing almost impossibly high as it moved toward them. It looked as though the ocean had become a living creature determined to stop the vessel from advancing, rising toward the sky with enormous force before collapsing forward.

Aadya adjusted the controls.

"Ninety degrees."

Her hands moved quickly as she brought the vessel into the required position.

The next wave struck.

For several terrifying seconds, the ship seemed almost vertical against the enormous swell before sliding downward with tremendous force. The impact shook the bridge, but Aadya held the controls firmly and continued correcting the course.

The ship survived the wave.

Another followed.

Then another.

Eventually, the readings began to change.

Manveer looked toward the instruments and then toward the Captain.

"The swell is decreasing, sir."

Agneya remained silent for a moment before looking toward Aadya.

"Well done."

He placed a hand upon her shoulder, and the gesture carried more meaning than simple praise. Aadya had remained at her station despite the fear visible in her eyes, trusting her training when the ocean had given her every reason to doubt herself.

"Jitni upar lehar jaati hai, utni hi jaldi neeche aati hai," Agneya said, his voice calm, but filled with quiet pride.

Aadya looked toward the ocean again, and something about the Captain's words settled deeply within her.

"Well done, Manveer," Agneya said, placing a hand on Manveer's shoulder in quiet praise.

"Vasuki," Sunil said, placing a hand upon his head in an affectionate gesture, "maut se dar nahi lagta kya?"

Vasuki turned toward him, and a warm smile appeared upon his face.

"Har kisi ko marne ke baad maa ki god nahi milti," he replied, his voice carrying a strange mixture of humor and emotion. "Par mujhe mil jayegi.

Sunil looked at him for a moment, and his smile softened.

There was something deeply personal in Vasuki's words.

For him, death was not simply the end.

If one day he were to lose his life beneath the vast waters of the Indian Ocean while defending his country, he believed that even his final breath would become a part of the very sea he had spent his life protecting. His soul would remain within those endless waves, forever guarding the waters of his motherland even after his death, as though the ocean itself had become his final resting place and his eternal post of duty.

Sunil smiled and shook his head.

"Yeh toh hai."

Before either man could say anything more, the Captain's voice echoed across the deck.

"Attention, soldiers!"

Every naval officer immediately straightened.

Their bodies became rigid as they stood in formation, and each man raised his hand in salute.

"Salute, sir!"

The response came together.

Agneya acknowledged them and then gave the command.

"Dismiss."

The soldiers lowered their hands and returned to their positions, their hands moving behind their backs as they stood straight and attentive.

Inside the briefing area, a large map had been placed upon the table.

Red markings covered a particular section of the map.

Agneya stood before the officers with a pointer in his hand and placed its tip directly over the marked location.

"Our objective is here"

Every officer looked toward the map.

Agneya continued, his voice controlled and deliberate.

"The enemy has established a concealed installation inland. Our vessel will remain offshore while the team proceeds toward the objective."

The officers studied the marked area carefully.

The Captain moved the pointer slightly.

"Our ship will stop fifteen kilometers away from the enemy's position. From there, we move underwater."

One of the officers immediately raised his concern.

"Sir, fifteen kilometres is extremely difficult in these conditions. With this swell and the distance involved, maintaining oxygen for the entire journey will be a serious challenge."

Agneya slowly looked toward him.

His expression contained no anger, but there was an unmistakable firmness in his eyes.

"I am not asking whether we can do it."

He placed the pointer down.

"I am giving you the order that we will do it."

The room became intensely focused around his words as he continued.

"We owe a debt to this nation. Every uniform we wear, every breath we take while serving this country, carries that responsibility. There are people sleeping peacefully tonight because men like us are willing to stand between them and the danger they may never even see."

His voice became stronger.

"And we repay that debt with our blood, our courage and, if necessary, our lives."

He looked at every officer individually.

"Just remember one thing when you encounter the enemy, do not hesitate. Aim for the center of the head and take the shot." Agneya said, pointing toward his own forehead to emphasize his command.

The officers straightened further.

"Yes, Sir!"

Their response filled the room with renewed energy.

Agneya then continued with the tactical instructions, explaining that if anyone detected suspicious movement or hostile activity, they were expected to respond immediately and protect the team from being compromised.

Vasuki raised his voice calmly.

"Sir, what about civilians? We have to make sure we don't mistake them for enemy personnel."

Agneya looked directly into Vasuki's eyes.

His eyebrows lifted slightly before his expression became completely serious.

"Remember one thing, Lieutenant Vasuki Tripathi. Once we enter an enemy stronghold, we cannot assume that everyone inside is harmless. You follow identification and your operational instructions carefully, and you do not allow hesitation to put your team in danger."

Vasuki nodded, accepting the responsibility without argument.

Another officer approached them a few minutes later.

"Five minutes remaining, sir."

The entire atmosphere immediately changed.

Agneya looked at them one final time.

"Make sure the enemy understands what it means to challenge India. We are not going to give them the opportunity to bring their hatred onto our soil, and we will not allow them to believe that our silence means weakness."

His voice echoed through the briefing area as every officer stood ready.

The officers looked at one another, their expressions carrying the same determination.

Agneya finally turned toward the exit.

His voice became firm and commanding as he gave the order that would begin everything they had prepared for.

"Operation Tabahi begins now."

Agneya turned his attention toward Vasuki, and for a few seconds he simply looked into the Lieutenant's eyes. "Shoot them. That is an order."

His voice was low, controlled and absolute.

The soldiers checked their equipment one final time,their weapons and prepared themselves for the underwater approach. Every man knew that after the next few minutes, there would be no turning back to the safety of the ship.

"Amarjeet," Sunil called softly, placing one hand upon his shoulder.

Amarjeet turned toward him immediately.

"haa?"

Sunil looked at him with an unexpectedly cheerful expression, as though he had suddenly remembered something that could pull his mind away from the heaviness surrounding him.

"Sherwani pink colour ki honi chahiye."

Amarjeet stared at him for a moment, genuinely surprised by the statement.

"Pink?"

Sunil nodded with complete seriousness, although a smile continued to linger upon his face.

"Haan, pink."

Amarjeet's eyebrows lifted as he looked at Sunil with confusion.

"Lekin kyun?"

Sunil's smile became softer, and his eyes seemed to brighten with the memory of his little daughter.

"Meri beti ko pasand hai."

Amarjeet remained silent for a few seconds before his expression slowly changed from surprise to complete confusion.

"Lekin aapki beti toh sirf do din ki hai," he finally said, as though he were trying to solve a very serious problem. "Usko kaise pata chal gaya ki usse pink colour pasand hai?"

For a moment Sunil simply stared at him, unable to believe the innocence of the question, and then he brought his palm against his forehead with exaggerated frustration, shaking his head as a reluctant laugh escaped from him.

"Pink ladkiyon ka favourite colour hota hai." he said, trying not to laugh.

Amarjeet's face immediately relaxed as though a great mystery had finally been solved.

"Oh..."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"Achha, aisa hai."

Sunil looked at him and laughed softly, and for a few precious moments the heaviness inside the room seemed to become lighter.

Then Amarjeet's eyes fell upon a book resting on the small side table beside them.

He picked it up casually and held it between his palms before looking toward Sunil with a faint smile.

"Abhi toh woh is book jitni ho gayi hogi na?"

The question was innocent, but it struck Sunil's heart with a force Amarjeet could never have imagined.

Sunil slowly looked at the book.

Something inside him changed.

He reached forward and took it from Amarjeet's hands with an almost sacred tenderness, and as soon as the book settled against his palms, he drew it toward his chest as naturally as a father would pull his newborn daughter closer to protect her from the cold.

For a few seconds he simply stood there, holding the book against his heart.

Yet he was no longer holding a book.

In his mind, the hard cover had disappeared, the pages had disappeared, and the weight of paper had transformed into the delicate weight of a tiny child lying peacefully against his chest.

His fingers slowly curved around it, his arms beginning to move with the gentle rhythm of a father soothing a restless baby, while his eyes closed and his face softened with a tenderness that none of the officers had seen in him before.

He could almost feel her.

He could almost hear her.

He could almost imagine the tiny warmth of her body resting against his uniform.

"O meri pyari beti," he whispered with a smile that trembled beneath the weight of his emotions. "Ro mat, Papa bas gaye aur aaye."

"Agar tum rogi na, toh tumhari mummy ko kaun chup karega? Woh khud tumhare saath roti rahegi."

A faint laugh escaped his lips.

his wife lying upon the hospital bed, exhausted after giving birth, her face pale from sleeplessness and pain, yet her eyes filled with a love so immense that even her tears seemed incapable of containing it.

His wife had looked at him through tear-filled eyes and had said, "Main iska naamkaran nahi karungi."

Sunil remembered how confused he had been.

But she had only cried harder.

"Maine bola na, main iska naam nahi rakhungi."

Her voice had carried anger, but beneath that anger was fear, and beneath that fear was the unbearable knowledge that her husband was about to leave her alone with their newborn daughter.

Sunil had walked toward her slowly, his heart breaking as he watched the tears continuously fall from her eyes.

He had taken their daughter gently into his arms, supporting her tiny head with his palm, and for a few seconds he had simply looked at her as though he wanted to memorize every detail of her face before destiny could take him away.

Then he had looked at his wife.

"Tara."

His voice had been barely above a whisper.

"Tara naam rakhte hain iska."

His wife had immediately shaken her head, her tears becoming heavier.

"Maine bola na, main iska naam nahi Rakhungi".

She had not argued with him.

He had simply looked down at their daughter and smiled with the helpless tenderness of a father who knew that he might not be there to watch his little girl grow.

"Tara," he repeated softly. "Hamari chhoti si Tara."

The name had come from his heart.

A star.

Something small that could still give light to a world surrounded by darkness.

His wife had covered her face with both hands and broken down completely.

Sunil had stood beside her, holding their daughter close, desperately wishing that he could freeze that moment forever.

But a soldier does not always receive the luxury of choosing when to leave.

The command had come.

He had to go.

He had wanted to tell his wife that he would return.

He had wanted to promise her that nothing would happen to him.

He had wanted to say that he would be there when their daughter spoke her first word, took her first step, fell and scraped her knee, went to school for the first time, or reached for his hand after a nightmare.

But somewhere within the discipline he had learned as a naval officer, he also knew that a promise of survival was something no soldier had the right to make.

Instead, he gently kissed his wife's forehead before carefully placing his daughter into her mother's embrace, lingering for a moment as though he wanted to memorize the warmth of his little girl before he had to leave.

Then he turned away.

Because he knew that if he stayed another minute, he would no longer have the strength to walk through the door.

Back in the naval room, Sunil's arms were still wrapped around the book.

Amarjeet stood silently watching him.

He understood what the book had become.

It was no longer paper.

It was a daughter's body.

It was a father's dream.

Amarjeet's gaze slowly dropped toward his own wrist.

A small thread was tied around it.

His fingers moved toward it almost unconsciously.

The moment he touched it, an old memory rose inside him with such clarity that for a brief moment he could almost hear her voice again.

"Mujhse ab aur nahi raha jaata, ji. Mujhe shaadi karni hai ab."

She had been standing in front of him wearing a deep red suit, her hands placed confidently upon her hips, her expression filled with the kind of impatience that was impossible to take seriously because her eyes were betraying how deeply she loved him.

Amarjeet had looked at her and smiled.

"Mujhe bhi karni hai ji."

She had narrowed her eyes.

"Kya ji?"

He had deliberately stepped closer, his voice filled with playful mischief.

"Shaadi ji."

Then he tilted his head and teased her.

"Aapko kuch aur bhi karna hai kya ji?"

She had looked into his eyes, pretending to be nervous, although the smile forming upon her lips had already betrayed her.

"Haan ji," she had finally whispered. "Sab kuch karna hai mujhe."

Before he could respond, she had stepped closer and caught hold of his collar, pulling him toward herself with such sudden confidence that his body had instinctively bent in her direction.

Their faces had come so close that the space between them seemed almost to disappear.

She had looked directly into his eyes.

"Jo bhi biwiyan karti hain," she had said with a mischievous confidence that made his heart beat faster.

Amarjeet had smiled.

"Aur kya karti hain biwiyan ji?"

She had answered without hesitation.

"Pitayi."

The next moment she had pushed him so hard that he had lost his balance and fallen to the floor, while she had immediately turned and started running, laughing as though she had just won some great battle.

Amarjeet had stared after her in disbelief before getting back onto his feet.

"Ji!"

She had continued running.

"Pyaar bhi toh karti hai ji..." he called after her with a teasing smile, his voice carrying just enough mischief to make her stop for a moment.

She had stopped.

For a moment she had remained still, her back turned toward him.

Then she had slowly looked over her shoulder.

The teasing confidence had disappeared from her face, replaced by a deep crimson blush that spread across her cheeks when she realized that he had seen straight through her playful behavior.

Amarjeet had smiled at her.

And then, with the same mischievous affection that had always existed between them, he had winked.

She had tried to hide her smile.

But she had failed.

That memory remained with him because it had been ordinary.

Amarjeet's fingers tightened around the thread on his wrist as the memory slowly faded, and the warmth that had briefly appeared in his eyes was replaced by the quiet ache of someone remembering a happiness that now existed only in the safest corner of his heart.

The emotional silence that had settled over the naval officers was suddenly shattered by the Captain's commanding voice, and the firmness in his tone immediately pulled every man back from the memories they had been carrying in the deepest corners of their hearts. A few moments earlier, they had been husbands thinking about their wives, fathers remembering their children, sons remembering their mothers.

"Ready, Naval Officers."

The command travelled through the room, and every man immediately began checking his equipment with the precision that came from years of preparation. Weapons were inspected, communication devices were secured, straps were tightened against their uniforms, and every piece of tactical equipment was checked once again because none of them was willing to allow even the smallest mistake to become the reason another man did not return. Their faces were covered with camouflage, their expressions became harder, and the tenderness that had existed in their eyes only moments earlier disappeared beneath the responsibility they had accepted when they chose to wear the uniform. They had not forgotten their families they had simply locked those memories safely inside their hearts because they knew that carrying them openly into the battlefield could make the coming moments unbearable.

"Action!"

The Captain's final command sent the entire team into motion.

A few steps farther away, Vasuki's gaze met the Captain's, and the two men remained locked in a silent exchange that carried the understanding of this mission.

Before entering the ocean, Vasuki stopped at the edge of the ship and looked toward the endless darkness stretching before them. The sea was almost indistinguishable from the night, its surface moving beneath the faint light of the sky while the distant horizon seemed to disappear into darkness. Vasuki slowly brought his hands together and lowered his head, closing his eyes as he began quietly reciting his prayer beneath his breath. He was not asking for an easy battle, nor was he asking to be spared from danger somewhere inside that silent prayer was a request for courage, for protection over the men who had trusted him, and for the strength to return to the people who were waiting for him.

When he opened his eyes, the hesitation had disappeared.

One after another, the naval officers entered the ocean, their bodies breaking through the dark surface with heavy splashes before they disappeared beneath the water. The cold immediately surrounded them, but none of them stopped, and within moments the entire team had formed a disciplined underwater line, their equipment secured tightly against their bodies while they moved through the darkness with controlled strokes. Their heavy tactical gear made every movement more difficult,and the pressure of the water made the journey exhausting, yet every man continued forward because they understood that the difficulty itself was part of the mission.

Vasuki was moving near the front of the formation when he noticed one of the younger officers beginning to struggle. His breathing had become uneven, and his movements were losing their rhythm beneath the weight of the equipment. Without hesitation, Vasuki turned around and swam against the direction of the formation, reaching the young officer before panic could take control of him. He secured an arm around the man's waist to stabilize him and placed his other hand gently against his back, rubbing it slowly while maintaining eye contact. There was no panic in Vasuki's face, only a steady reassurance that seemed to tell the younger officer that he was not alone and that he still had enough strength to continue.

The young officer looked into Vasuki's eyes and gradually steadied his breathing, taking the deeper breath Vasuki was silently encouraging him to take. Once Vasuki was certain that he could continue, he guided him back into formation, and the entire team resumed their movement through the ocean without allowing the interruption to break their discipline.

Eventually, Vasuki reached the shore and began pulling himself forward across the wet sand, keeping his body as low as possible while using his elbows and forearms to move deeper onto the island. The wet fabric of his uniform dragged against the sand, his breathing became heavier, and every movement required effort, but he continued crawling because remaining exposed for even a few seconds could alert the enemy. He lifted his head carefully and scanned the island, studying every visible structure and shadow before finally raising his right hand and giving the signal that the area ahead appeared clear.

The other officers began crawling out of the water one after another, using their elbows and hands to pull themselves across the shore while keeping their bodies close to the ground. The Captain raised his hand and rotated it in a circular motion, and the officers immediately understood that the formation had to change. They separated into smaller units, forming groups of five and spreading across different sections of the island so that each team could approach its assigned position without drawing unnecessary attention.

Vasuki remained near the shore for a moment longer, his eyes moving across the darkness in front of him, and the calm concentration on his face gradually changed into visible tension when he noticed movement ahead. Without wasting another second, he pushed himself away from the ground and began running toward the enemy position with long, controlled strides, his weapon already prepared in his hands.

When the enemy appeared within range, Vasuki dropped onto his knees, steadied his weapon and fired a suppressed shot that struck the man before he could raise an alarm. The enemy collapsed silently, and Vasuki immediately reached for Sunil's wrist, pulling him backward until both men were positioned against the trunk of a tree where they could remain concealed from the remaining guards.

Sunil looked toward the fallen enemy and then back toward Vasuki, but before he could say anything, Vasuki gave him a faintly teasing smile despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Beti ka naam nahi rakhna kya?"

The unexpected remark brought a flicker of amusement to Sunil's face, because even in the middle of an operation, Vasuki had somehow found a way to remind him of the newborn daughter waiting for him at home. Sunil shook his head with a restrained smile before looking back toward the enemy territory, and both men immediately returned their attention to the mission.

Vasuki moved forward with careful, controlled steps, his body remaining low as he approached another enemy from behind. He closed the distance quickly, neutralized the threat and immediately returned his attention toward the surrounding area, making certain that no other movement had been missed.

At another section of the compound, Amarjeet pressed his back against the outer wall of a small two-storey structure and carefully examined the building from the shadows. He raised one hand and used a series of precise gestures to inform the others that he would move toward the first floor, and the men behind him acknowledged the signal before taking their positions. Amarjeet then moved around the rear of the hut, keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible while his weapon remained aimed ahead, his eyes continuously scanning the corners and doorways for movement.

When he reached the first floor, he paused and examined the corridor before giving a thumbs-up to indicate that the immediate area was clear. The other officers began moving up the stairs behind him, each man placing his feet carefully so that the wooden steps would not betray their presence, while Amarjeet slowly advanced toward the main room and signaled that he was moving inside.

Before he could fully enter, an enemy suddenly emerged from the side and grabbed him, using enough force to throw him toward the floor. Amarjeet's body struck the ground heavily, but before the enemy could gain control of him, the suppressed sound of gunfire cut through the darkness, and the attacker collapsed beside him.

"Pfft-pfft."

Vasuki stood nearby with his weapon raised, his eyes immediately moving toward Amarjeet to make certain he was unharmed. Amarjeet pushed himself up from the floor, inhaling deeply as he regained his balance, while Vasuki looked at him with the same teasing expression that had somehow survived the danger surrounding them.

"Mujhe tujhe pink sherwani mein dekhna hai," Vasuki said, his voice deliberately light despite the circumstances.

Amarjeet looked at him with disbelief before glancing toward the fallen enemy, and for a moment the two men shared the kind of silent amusement that only longtime companions could understand. They both knew how absurd it was to discuss a pink sherwani in the middle of an enemy operation, but perhaps that was precisely why the moment mattered their jokes reminded them that behind their weapons and uniforms, they were still human beings with people waiting for them somewhere beyond the battlefield.

Vasuki pressed his back against the wall while Amarjeet positioned himself beside him, and both men carefully looked toward the small window ahead. Vasuki slowly approached it and lowered his body, peeking through the opening without allowing his silhouette to become visible from inside.

Several armed men were gathered in the room.

One of them was examining a weapon while speaking with arrogant confidence. "Yeh ek baar mein me 100 logon ko maar sakti hai," he told the others, holding the weapon as though its power made him invincible.

Another man looked toward the collection of guns and laughed bitterly. "Ab Indian force bach nahi sakti."

The first man's expression became even more cruel as he looked around the room. "Saalo mein deshbhakti ka bada josh hai na? Aisa karna hai inke saath ki koi bache hi na jo kal us desh mein deshbhakti ki baat kar sake."

Vasuki's fingers slowly tightened around his weapon as every word entered his ears. His jaw became rigid, and the muscles across his face tightened as a deep anger rose within him, because these men were not merely threatening soldiers they were speaking about destroying the very people and country that Vasuki had devoted his life to protecting. For several seconds he remained perfectly still, fighting the instinct to enter the room immediately, because discipline was the only thing preventing his anger from turning into a reckless decision that could endanger the entire team.

He finally lifted his hand and gave Amarjeet and Sunil the signal to cover him from behind.

The three men moved into position.

Vasuki approached the entrance, opened the door with force and entered before the enemies had enough time to understand what was happening. His weapon came up immediately, and controlled bursts of suppressed fire filled the room as the enemy soldiers scrambled toward their guns. Sunil entered from another angle while Amarjeet secured the opposite side, and within moments the room descended into chaos as the attackers attempted to respond.

One enemy managed to stand directly in front of Vasuki with his weapon raised, but Vasuki dropped to his knees at the exact moment the man fired, allowing the shot to pass above him before he immediately returned fire. The enemy collapsed heavily onto the floor, and the sound of his body striking the ground echoed through the room before the silence returned.

Sunil stepped forward, struck another remaining threat and then looked toward Vasuki with a grim smile.

"Meri beti ka naam nahi rakhna kya?"

Vasuki looked at him and gave a short chuckle, but the humor disappeared from his expression as he looked toward the enemy lying before him.

"Is desh mein deshbhakti kabhi khatam nahi ho sakti," he said with unwavering conviction. "Aaj agar sau log desh ke liye mar gaye, toh kal das hazaar aur khade ho jayenge.

He slowly rose and gestured toward another closed room at the far end of the building.

Sunil and Amarjeet immediately understood the signal and positioned themselves to provide cover.

Vasuki moved toward the closed door, lowering his weapon slightly as he approached, but keeping his eyes fixed on the narrow opening beneath it. He placed one hand on the handle and pushed the door open carefully.

The sight waiting inside made him stop.

A young boy stood beside a gas cylinder, his trembling fingers wrapped around a matchbox.

Vasuki immediately recognized the danger.

"Isko neeche rakho," he ordered, his voice firm but noticeably softer than before.

The boy turned toward him.

Sunil and Amarjeet quickly moved closer, positioning themselves behind Vasuki as they realized what the child intended to do. Vasuki remained between them and the boy, carefully watching every movement because he understood that one wrong gesture could turn the room into a death trap.

The boy stared at Vasuki with eyes filled with grief and anger.

"Pata hai, meri maa hamesha mujhe gas se door rehne ke liye kehti thi," Vasuki said in a calm, gentle voice, patiently trying to convince the boy.

Vasuki looked at him with confusion and concern, but before he could respond, the boy's fingers slowly opened the matchbox.

"Meri maa ko toh aap logon ne maar diya hai."

The words struck Vasuki with unexpected force.

He stared at the boy, and for a moment the soldier inside him struggled against the human being who was standing before a frightened child. Vasuki could see the pain in the boy's eyes, but he could also see something far more dangerous aasomeone had taken that pain and transformed it into hatred, convincing a sixteen-year-old that destroying himself was the only way to avenge his mother.

Vasuki took one cautious step forward.

"Beta, matchbox neeche rakho," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

The boy pulled a match from the box.

Vasuki's eyes widened.

"Ruko!"

The boy struck the match.

Vasuki immediately lunged forward, his voice exploding through the room with desperate urgency.

"Nooooo, Sirrrrrrrrr!"

But Agneya had already made his decision.

He stood several feet away from the gas cylinder, his expression unnaturally calm despite the danger surrounding them. His eyes remained fixed on the cylinder as he calculated the distance, the direction of the blast, and the only possible way they could escape before the entire place went up in flames..

Vasuki stared at him in disbelief.

"Sir, what are you-"

Agneya raised his weapon.

For a brief moment, the entire world seemed to become unnaturally silent.

Then his finger tightened around the trigger.

BANG!

BANG!

The bullet tore through the air and struck the gas cylinder.

The moment the bullet made contact, Agneya's expression changed. He knew there was no time left.

The gas ignited.

A violent burst of fire erupted from the cylinder, spreading across the room in a fraction of a second. The walls trembled violently, the ceiling groaned under the sudden force, and the windows began to crack as the pressure of the explosion built inside the structure.

Vasuki stood frozen.

His eyes widened as he finally understood what Agneya had done.

"Sir!".

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion erupted with terrifying force.

The entire room shook violently. Flames burst through the walls as windows shattered outward, sending glass and burning debris flying in every direction.

Agneya grabbed Vasuki by the arm before the second wave of the blast could reach them.

"JUMP!"

He didn't give him time to react.

Agneya pulled Vasuki toward the shattered window and, with all his strength, launched both of them through it.

The explosion hit them from behind.

WHOOSH!

The force of the blast sent them flying through the air.

For a moment, Vasuki could feel nothing except Agneya's grip locked tightly around him as they were thrown away from the burning structure.

They crashed onto the ground several feet away.

Agneya landed first, twisting his body instinctively to shield Vasuki from the falling debris.

THUD!

They rolled across the ground before finally coming to a stop.

Vasuki was thrown across the ground and landed heavily, his ears ringing from the explosion as he struggled to understand where he was. Smoke entered his lungs, causing him to cough violently while he tried to push himself upright, and around him the others were also recovering from the blast, checking themselves and searching through the smoke for their companions.

"Kahani nahi, maut ki lori sunna hota hai." the Captain said, his voice carrying the harshness of a battlefield commander who had learned to suppress every emotional hesitation.

Vasuki looked up at him, disbelief and anger mixing together in his expression as he tried to steady his breathing.

"Sir, woh sirf 16 saal ka ladka tha," he said, his voice strained by the emotion he was struggling to control.

The Captain's jaw tightened, and his response came with the cold certainty of a man who believed hesitation on a battlefield could cost an entire team their lives.

"If he is ten, I will kill him without mercy."

Vasuki stared at him, unable to immediately accept the words.

The Captain turned away and began walking toward the other side of the ruined structure, leaving Vasuki sitting amid the dust and smoke.

Vasuki lowered his head into his hands, his fingers pressing against his forehead while the image of the boy continued appearing before his eyes. He could still see the trembling hand holding the matchbox, could still hear the pain in the boy's voice when he spoke about his mother, and despite everything that had happened, Vasuki could not force himself to see that child merely as an enemy.

He lifted his head toward the broken window, and through the smoke and flames he imagined the boy's face again. For several seconds he remained frozen, because the battlefield had taught him how to face death.

Sunil eventually pushed himself upright and looked toward Amarjeet, who was still lying against the ground trying to recover his breath.

"Tu theek hai?"

Amarjeet took a deep breath, rubbed his chest and nodded.

"Haan, main theek hoon."

Vasuki slowly rose from the ground and checked his equipment, making certain that his weapon and communication device were still functional. His body was covered with dust, his uniform was damaged and his breathing remained heavy, but his sense of responsibility had returned. He looked around the destroyed compound and then toward the remaining area that still needed to be secured.

The Captain stood near the edge of the destroyed house and looked across the massive destruction left behind by the operation. Flames continued rising from the remains of the structure while thick smoke rolled upward into the night sky, and the light from the fire illuminated the faces of the exhausted officers standing around him.

"Operation Tabahi complete," the Captain announced loudly, his voice carrying through the burning compound with the authority of a commander reporting the end of a mission.

He turned his gaze toward the ruins, and his fists gradually tightened as he watched the flames consume what remained of the enemy's stronghold. His jaw remained clenched, and although his expression showed the pride of a successful operation, there was also an exhaustion in his eyes that came from knowing exactly what such victories cost the men who achieved them.

Then, through the thick smoke behind him, something moved.

At first it appeared to be nothing more than a shadow emerging from the fire, but the figure slowly became clearer as it continued walking forward. The Captain narrowed his eyes, and Sunil and Amarjeet also turned toward the approaching silhouette.

It was Vasuki Tripathi.

He was coming out of the burning structure, his uniform covered in ash and dust, his face marked by exhaustion, his breathing heavy from the smoke he had inhaled, but he was still walking steadily toward them.

Because Vasuki wasn't walking alone.

A woman was lying unconscious in his arms.

He was carrying her in a bridal position, one arm securely supporting her back while his other arm was placed beneath her knees. Her entire body rested against his chest, completely unaware of the destruction surrounding her. Her head had fallen gently against his shoulder, her hair scattered across his arm, while her hands remained completely still.

A

gneya's eyes remained fixed on Vasuki as he emerged from the burning structure. His jaw tightened so fiercely that the muscles along his face stood out, and the pressure of his clenched teeth became visible. His hands slowly curled into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening beneath the strain as he tried to control the anger and disbelief rising within him.

The small room of the ship was drowned in an unsettling silence.

Agneya stood in the middle of it, perfectly straight, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression remained unreadable as his eyes stayed fixed on the man standing before him.

Then, without warning, a voice tore through the silence.

"I will kill her."

The words were cold, loud, and terrifyingly clear.

Agneya's gaze sharpened.

The man standing before him was no stranger.

It was Vasuki Tripathi.

And there was something in his eyes that made those four words feel less like a threat and more like a promise.

To be continued...