Chapter 156: A New Path - II
"We put all our resources into this, Khalid," one of the generals finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "And we failed. What do we have to show for it?"
Khalid's voice was calm as he replied. "Rao was lucky. Next time, we won't miss."
"Next time?" the general scoffed. "There may not be a next time. R&AW will be tightening their defenses. They'll be expecting another attack. We can't afford to keep throwing men and resources at this."
Khalid didn't flinch. "Rao is a symbol for India's intelligence strength. Killing him would have crippled their morale. Yes, we failed, but the message was clear: ISI can reach him. They won't be complacent anymore."
The generals exchanged glances, their expressions grim.
One of them finally spoke up. "We need to reassess. We can't keep fighting this war in the shadows while R&AW stays one step ahead. We need to consider... other options."
Khalid's eyes narrowed slightly. "What options?"
The general's voice lowered. "Diplomatic pressure. Pakistan can't afford a full-scale confrontation, but we can push the international community to put pressure on India. We know about the Chagai Hills sabotage. The world doesn't. If we expose their role, it could force them to scale back their operations."
Khalid's mind raced. It was a dangerous game and one that could shift the balance in favour of no one.
"You want to go public with this?"
The general nodded. "It's time the world knew what India has been doing. They've crossed the line. It's time we push back."
Khalid stood in silence for a moment, weighing the options.
The military was losing patience, and ISI's failures were piling up.
He needed a victory, any victory, to keep control of the situation.
"I need to time" Khalid said finally. "I will come up with a plan far better and more feasible then this"
After thinking a lot the generals nodded. "Okay we give you one day"
As soon as the meeting ended,Khalid Qureshi stood alone in his office at ISI headquarters.
The assassination attempt on K.N. Rao, India's intelligence chief, had failed miserably.
They had come so close, but in the end, close wasn't enough.
Now, the pressure from Pakistan's military leadership was mounting, failure after failure was starting to shake their confidence in ISI's ability to deliver meaningful results.
But going public with the Chagai Hills sabotage? That wasn't the answer.
Khalid knew the risks involved. Exposing India's role in the destruction of Pakistan's nuclear ambitions could lead to diplomatic isolation.
Pakistan was already walking a fine line with its international allies.
They couldn't afford to play all their cards, not yet.
No, this war had to remain in the shadows.
There was another way.
Khalid turned to the large map of India pinned to his office wall.
His eyes traced the borders and cities, stopping briefly on Kashmir, then moving south.
Over the past few months, ISI had been collecting intelligence on groups within India that were dissatisfied with the government.
The idea had come up before, but now, after Chagai Hills and the failed assassination attempt, it seemed like their best option.
If ISI couldn't take down Rao or directly strike at R&AW, they could destabilize India from within.
The plan was simple in theory but difficult in execution, fund and arm extremists, and other marginalized groups within India.
With the right amount of support, they could sow discord, weaken the central government's control, and force India to focus on its internal fractures instead of its external threats.
This wasn't a military operation, it was a strategic, covert one.
And if it worked, India would be too preoccupied with its internal fires to focus on Pakistan.
A knock at the door interrupted Khalid's thoughts.
"Enter," he said, turning away from the map.
Abdul Rashid stepped into the room, his expression grim but focused.
Khalid had summoned him for an urgent meeting, and Abdul had a sense of what was coming.
"We can't afford another public failure," Khalid began, without preamble. "After the assassination attempt on Rao failed, the military wants results. But we need to play this smarter. A direct attack on R&AW will only lead to more failure. So we shift our focus."
Abdul frowned, waiting for him to continue.
"We're not going public with the Chagai Hills sabotage," Khalid said firmly. "It will hurt us more than it will hurt them. Instead, we turn India's strength against itself."
Abdul raised an eyebrow. "You mean...?"
"Insurgency," Khalid replied coldly. "There are enough groups inside India who are dissatisfied with the central government. Extremists, regional separatists, and religious factions that feel they've been ignored. We give them arms, money, and resources. Let India fight itself. We stay in the shadows and fuel the fire."
Abdul crossed his arms, thinking through the implications. "It's a long-term play," he said. "It'll take time to build those networks."
"Exactly," Khalid agreed. "But time is what we need and after I explain this to Generals they will agree and we let India bleed slowly. By the time they realize what's happening, it'll be too late."
Abdul nodded slowly. "Do we have the resources?"
Khalid walked over to his desk, picking up a file and handing it to Abdul. "We've been collecting intel on potential groups for months. The groundwork is already in place. We send our agents in to make contact, fund their operations, and supply arms. They'll do the rest."
Abdul opened the file and scanned the list of names and organizations.
Each group had been carefully vetted for their willingness to turn against the Indian government.
Some were militant extremists, others were simply disillusioned with the central authority.
But all of them had one thing in common, a deep-seated anger toward the Indian state.
"Who will lead the operation?" Abdul asked, closing the file.
"I will oversee it," Khalid replied. "But I want you to coordinate with our field operatives. We'll send agents into India under deep cover. We can't risk being exposed. If this comes back to us, it will be war."
Abdul's expression hardened. "Understood. We'll need to be smart, we can't afford any mistakes.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Clautic
So it's end of 1953 and history has changed... insurgency in 1953 hehe
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88.26%A New India / Chapter 157: Hunting Saeed
Chapter 157: Hunting Saeed
The lights in R&AW headquarters flickered slightly as Ajay Singh read the intelligence reports.
Ever since the assassination attempt on K.N. Rao, Ajay had been obsessively tracking Saeed Khan, the ISI operative responsible for the attack.
Saeed was no ordinary agent, he was an experienced assassin, known for his precision and ability to disappear without a trace.
He had slipped out of New Delhi like a ghost after the failed mission, but Ajay knew he was still in the country.
Somewhere
Lurking
Rao had made it clear. Saeed Khan couldn't be allowed to live.
He was too dangerous, and leaving him out there, free, was like a ticking time bomb.
If they didn't take him out now, he'd strike again, maybe even succeed next time.
Ajay's telephone buzzed, breaking his concentration.
It was one of his field agents, Arun, calling from the outskirts of Udaipur.
"Sir, we've got a lead," Arun's voice came through, steady but urgent. "Saeed was spotted in a village near the Rajasthan-Gujarat border. He's been staying low, but we've confirmed it's him."
Ajay's grip on the telephone tightened. "Are you sure it's him?"
"As sure as we can be without getting too close," Arun replied. "He's using an alias, but we've cross-referenced his movements. We're certain."
Ajay didn't hesitate. "Send me the coordinates. I'm heading there now."
He hung up and immediately went to Rao's office.
Rao was sitting behind his desk, calm as ever, but there was a fire in his eyes when Ajay walked in.
For he knew it can only be for one thing.
"We've found him," Ajay said, handing Rao the details.
Rao glanced over the report, his expression hardening. "Good. This ends tonight. Take whoever you need, but make sure he doesn't walk away from this."
Ajay nodded and left the room, already assembling a team in his mind.
There was no room for error now. Saeed had evaded them for too long.
----
Within an hour the team was ready and dropped near the village by the Indian Air Force.
The village was quiet, nestled in the hills, with only a few dirt roads cutting through it.
The locals went about their business, unaware that one of Pakistan's most dangerous operatives was hiding in plain sight among them.
Ajay and his team arrived just after dusk, slipping into the village with the stealth only trained operatives could manage.
They had identified the house Saeed was using, a small, nondescript building on the edge of the village.
From the outside, it looked ordinary, but Ajay knew better. Saeed wasn't careless.
"Arun, you and Sandeep cover the back," Ajay instructed in a whisper. "Rahul, you're with me. We take this slow. He's dangerous, and we can't afford any mistakes."
The men nodded and moved into position, their guns ready, their senses sharp.
Ajay took a deep breath as he approached the front door, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"Everyone in position?" Ajay asked quietly as he crouched near a cluster of trees, his eyes locked on the dimly lit house in the distance.
Arun's voice crackled through the earpiece. "Yes, sir. We've got the house surrounded. No one's getting in or out."
Ajay exhaled slowly, gripping his weapon tightly. "Stay sharp. Saeed is dangerous. We can't afford mistakes."
Inside the modest house, Saeed Khan sat in silence. He had known it was only a matter of time before they caught up with him.
He could feel it in the air, the way the night seemed heavier than usual, the way his instincts told him something was coming.
He had been in this game long enough to know when he was being hunted.
He adjusted the knife strapped to his belt and checked the gun under the table.
His escape route was already planned, but this time, something felt different.
There was no way out, not cleanly. If they had found him, they would have him surrounded by now.
His only way out was through them.
Soon Ajay and his team moved in swiftly. The village was quiet.
Ajay approached the door with Rahul, their movements precise and coordinated.
Ajay gave a silent nod, and with a quick motion, the door was breached.
The house was dark, with shadows streching across the floor.
"Careful," Ajay whispered as they stepped inside, the wooden floor creaking under their weight.
The room was quiet, too quiet.
Ajay's heart pounded in his chest as they cleared the first room.
He knew Saeed was here, somewhere. But the silence was unnerving.
He moved toward the back of the house, his eyes scanning every shadow, every possible hiding spot.
And then, without warning, Saeed struck.
He came out of the darkness like a predator, his knife flashing in the dim light.
Ajay barely had time to react, throwing his body backward as the blade sliced through the air, narrowly missing his throat.
Saeed moved with a fluidity that spoke of years of experience.
He wasn't just fast-he was lethal, every movement calculated, every strike aimed to kill.
Ajay barely managed to parry the next swipe, blocking with his forearm as Saeed drove forward, relentless in his assault.
The fight was immediate and brutal.
Saeed's knife glinted in the low light as he pressed the attack, slashing and stabbing with precision.
Ajay fought to keep up, his training kicking in as he countered with quick strikes of his own, trying to create distance between them. But Saeed was unrelenting.
In the chaos, Rahul lunged forward, trying to catch Saeed off guard.
But Saeed spun with inhuman speed, delivering a vicious elbow to Rahul's jaw, sending him crashing into the wall.
Rahul hit the ground hard, disoriented.
Ajay took the opening, swinging his fist at Saeed's side, landing a solid punch.
Saeed grunted but didn't slow down. He twisted his body, slamming his shoulder into Ajay's chest, knocking him back into a table.
The force sent the table crashing to the ground, splinters flying in every direction.
Ajay groaned as pain shot through his ribs. He scrambled to his feet, but Saeed was already moving again, closing the distance between them with a deadly efficiency.
This wasn't just a fight-it was survival. Saeed fought like a man who had killed more times than he could count, and Ajay knew he had to match that intensity or he'd be dead within minutes.
Saeed's knife flashed again, this time catching Ajay's forearm.
A sharp pain shot through him as blood began to flow, but Ajay didn't have time to think about it.
He grabbed a chair and swung it towards Saeed, forcing him to duck.
"Come on!" Ajay growled, adrenaline pushing him forward. He kicked the chair aside and charged, throwing a punch at Saeed's face.
Saeed dodged, but not quickly enough. Ajay's fist caught him on the chin, snapping his head back.
Saeed stumbled for a second, but it was all the opening Ajay needed.
He threw a knee into Saeed's gut, followed by an elbow to his temple.
Saeed hit the floor, groaning in pain, but he wasn't finished yet.
Before Ajay could press the attack, Saeed kicked out, sweeping Ajay's legs from under him.
Ajay hit the ground hard, his head smacking against the floor, dazing him for a moment.
Saeed was already back on his feet, his knife raised high.
Ajay rolled just as the knife plunged into the floor where his head had been moments before.
Saeed snarled in frustration, ripping the blade free and swinging again. This time, Ajay caught his wrist mid-strike.
The two men struggled, their faces inches apart, muscles straining as they fought for control of the knife.
Saeed pushed down with all his strength, but Ajay held firm, refusing to let the blade reach him.
Sweat dripped from their faces, both men grunting with effort.
With a burst of strength, Ajay twisted Saeed's wrist, sending the knife flying across the room.
Saeed cursed and swung a wild punch, but Ajay ducked, driving his fist into Saeed's ribs with all the force he could muster.
Saeed gasped in pain, but he wasn't finished. He grabbed Ajay by the collar, slamming him against the wall.
Ajay's vision blurred for a moment, the impact rattling his skull, but he didn't let go of Saeed.
He grabbed the assassin's wrist, twisting it behind his back.
Saeed screamed in pain as Ajay forced him to his knees, pressing his arm up until it was on the verge of snapping.
"I told you," Ajay growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're not getting out of this one."
Saeed spat blood on the floor, his face twisted in rage, but his strength was failing.
Ajay didn't waste any more time. He grabbed a shard of broken wood from the fallen table and, with a swift motion, drove it into Saeed's chest.
Saeed's body jerked as the makeshift weapon pierced his heart. His eyes widened in shock, then slowly, the light faded from them.
His body slumped forward, lifeless.
Ajay stood over him, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his wounded arm.
The fight was over.
Finally, after days of hunting, Saeed Khan was dead.
The night air was cool as Ajay stepped outside, his body aching from the brutal fight.
Arun and the rest of the team were securing the area, making sure no one in the village had seen or heard what had happened.
It had to look like a quiet, clean operation.
Arun approached, his face a mix of concern and relief. "Are you okay?"
Ajay wiped the blood from his arm, wincing slightly. "I'll live. But Saeed won't."
Arun nodded, glancing back toward the house. "It's over then."
"Not yet," Ajay said, his voice low. "Saeed was just one piece of the puzzle. ISI won't let this go. They'll want revenge."
Arun frowned, but didn't argue. He knew Ajay was right.
This wasn't just about Saeed. The war between R&AW and ISI was far from over.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Clautic
How's the action sequences do I need to add more stuff or refine it more...
1664 words chapter
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88.82%A New India / Chapter 158: Hunting the Moles
Chapter 158: Hunting the Moles
The light in K.N. Rao's office flickered momentarily as he stared down at the stack of files on his desk.
Each one held the names and details of R&AW officers under suspicion, possible moles feeding information to ISI.
It had been hours since Saeed Khan had been killed in that brutal fight with Ajay, but the unease within R&AW had not subsided.
Saeed's death, while a victory, had revealed something darker lurking within R&AW itself, moles.
There had to be more than one. Saeed's ability to evade them for so long, his precise knowledge of Rao's movements, it wasn't just ISI's efficiency.
It was the result of someone on the inside leaking sensitive information.
And Rao knew this wasn't something that could be ignored any longer.
But Rao was a cautious man. He wasn't the type to rush in blindly.
Dealing with moles inside an intelligence agency required subtlety, patience, and above all, silence.
If ISI caught even the faintest hint that he was hunting for the leaks, they might use that against him, activating other agents he didn't even know about yet.
He couldn't risk it.
He'd been going over the names for days now. People he had worked with for years, some of them he'd even considered friends.
But trust was a luxury he could no longer afford.
He needed to move forward with a silent crackdown, rooting out anyone who posed a threat to R&AW's security. It had to be done.
But first, he needed to get approval from the very top.
---
Prime Minister Rohan's Office
Rao adjusted his coat as he made his way into the Prime Minister's office.
He had always had a good relationship with Rohan, a man who understood that leading India in such volatile times required not just military strength but a deep understanding of intelligence work.
Rao had briefed him on countless operations before, but this time was different.
This time, he was about to request full authority to launch a covert crackdown on R&AW itself.
As he entered the room, Rohan was already seated behind his desk, reading through a stack of documents, no doubt reports on the escalating tension between India and Pakistan.
"Rao, come in," Rohan said without looking up from the papers, his voice calm yet focused.
It was the tone of a man who carried the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders.
Rao sat down across from him, his face composed but his mind working through the complication of the conversation they were about to have.
This was not just about asking for permission, it was about ensuring that the Prime Minister understood the seriousness of what he was about to authorize.
"We've had some victories lately," Rao began, his tone measured. "Saeed Khan is dead, and ISI has taken a significant hit. But there's a deeper problem within our own agency that we need to address."
Rohan glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. "Go on."
"Saeed had information he shouldn't have had. He knew too much about our movements, our plans. I've been reviewing the situation since his death, and I'm convinced that we have moles within R&AW, more than one."
Rohan leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. "You're certain of this?"
Rao nodded. "I am. And if we don't deal with it now, ISI will continue to exploit these weaknesses. We can't plan any major operations or take decisive action until we clean house. I'm requesting your permission to launch a silent crackdown. No one outside of a small group will know about it. We'll begin identifying and removing anyone who's compromised."
Rohan's fingers drummed lightly on the desk as he considered Rao's words. "How deep do you think this goes?"
"That's what worries me," Rao admitted. "I'm not sure yet. But I have suspicions about several officers, people who have had access to sensitive information that's been compromised. This could take weeks, maybe months, but if we don't act now, ISI will always be two steps ahead."
The room was silent for a few moments as Rohan processed the request.
Rao knew that asking for a green light to target his own people wasn't something to be taken lightly.
But the stakes were too high.
If they didn't act, everything they had built could be undone from the inside.
Finally, Rohan spoke, his voice low but resolute. "I trust your judgment, Rao. You've proven time and again that you know what you're doing. But this... this isn't just about rooting out spies. This is about trust within the agency. People will talk, rumors will spread. How do you plan to keep this under control?"
"We'll be surgical," Rao replied. "The people we target will disappear quietly. There will be no public dismissals, no obvious changes. We'll make it look like routine transfers or retirements. By the time anyone realizes what's happening, it will already be done."
Rohan exhaled slowly. "And you're sure this won't cause more problems than it solves?"
Rao leaned forward slightly. "Sir, if we don't do this, ISI will continue to have a foothold in R&AW. They'll continue to know our plans before we can execute them. The risk of doing nothing far outweighs the risks of this crackdown."
Rohan stared at Rao for a long moment, then nodded. "You have my approval. I'll give you whatever resources you need. Just make sure this doesn't go out of control. We can't afford a scandal right now, not with the world watching."
Rao stood up
"Thank you, Prime Minister. I'll keep you updated as we move forward."
As he left the room, Rao couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency.
He needed to act fast
The war between India and Pakistan wasn't just being fought at the borders, it was being fought in the shadows, in the corridors of R&AW, where trust was a currency too easily exploited.
Back at R&AW headquarters, Rao wasted no time. Within hours of receiving the Prime Minister's approval, he convened a small team of his most trusted officers, men and women he had personally vetted over the years, people he knew would remain loyal no matter what.
Ajay Singh was, of course, at the heart of the operation.
He had been at Rao's side through thick and thin, and if there was anyone Rao trusted with the delicate task of weeding out moles, it was Ajay.
"This is going to be tricky," Ajay said, looking over the list of names Rao had handed him. "Some of these people have been with R&AW for years. They're seasoned officers."
"That's what makes it difficult," Rao replied, his tone grim. "We're not just looking for the obvious suspects. ISI has planted people who have built up spotless records, who have made themselves invaluable to us. But the pattern is there, we've lost too much information. Someone inside is feeding ISI."
Ajay frowned, scanning the names. "How do we begin?"
"Quietly," Rao said. "We'll start by monitoring their communications. We already have wiretaps in place on most of them, but we need to dig deeper. We'll look at their bank accounts, their personal lives, anything that might suggest they've been compromised. And when we find the evidence we need, we'll move them out, quietly."
Ajay nodded. "Understood."
The operation began almost immediately. Within days, teams were deployed to monitor the movements of the suspected moles, their telephone tapped, their communications analyzed.
Every interaction was scrutinized, every detail picked apart.
And slowly, the cracks began to show.
One officer, a man who had served in R&AW and achieved good results, was found to have an unexplained influx of cash in his bank account, money that couldn't be traced to any official source.
Another was caught making suspicious calls to an unregistered number, later traced back to an ISI handler.
The crackdown was ruthless, but it was necessary.
Rao's team moved in silence, removing compromised officers one by one.
Some were taken out of the country, others sent to remote postings where they could no longer do damage.
By the time the operation was in full swing, the number of suspected moles had reduced
But the work wasn't over yet.
A week later, Rao found himself back in the Prime Minister's office, this time with more concrete results.
Rohan looked up from his desk as Rao entered, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Looks like you've made some progress," Rohan said, gesturing for Rao to sit.
"We have," Rao replied, handing him a thin file. "Seven confirmed moles, all removed. ISI's been feeding off them for some time. They're out of the game now."
Rohan flipped through the file, his expression hardening as he read the details. "I'm glad you moved so quickly. But tell me, are we clean now? Or is there more?"
Rao's face remained impassive. "We've made a good start, but I won't say we're completely clean. ISI is resourceful. They've had a lot time to build these networks. There may still be more, but we're narrowing the gaps."
Rohan closed the file and leaned back. "Good. Because we need to make our next move soon. And I don't want ISI to have any idea what's coming."
Rao smiled faintly. "They won't."
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89.38%A New India / Chapter 159: Time to Attack
Chapter 159: Time to Attack
The flicker of satisfaction in Rao's eyes matched the quiet confidence in his voice.
With the immediate threat of moles neutralized, they could now move on to more pressing matters.
But both men knew, deep down, that the war in the shadows was far from over.
Rohan tapped the file in front of him, his fingers playing on the edge of the document. "What's the next move, Rao?" he asked quietly, a calm exterior hiding the intensity of his anticipation.
His years in politics had taught him that calm was the most effective weapon in moments of crisis.
Rao's face, usually expressionless, showed a glimpse of determination. "Now that the house is in order, we're going to shift the focus back to ISI. They may not realize yet that we've weeded out the informants, but the moment they understand they've lost their foothold, they'll retaliate. We need to stay ahead of them."
Rohan leaned forward. "What are you thinking? What's the operation?"
Rao paused, weighing his words carefully. He was about to propose something audacious, a move that could fundamentally shift the balance in the intelligence war between R&AW and ISI.
But it would require secrecy and coordination at the highest level.
"Sir, we've crippled their nuclear ambitions, and they're licking their wounds from that," Rao began. "But ISI's operations are larger than we can imagine. They've been weaving detailed networks across Pakistan, Afghanistan, and even into Indian territory for a long time. We need to cut off their operational heads."
Rohan raised an eyebrow. "You mean… targeted strikes?"
"Not just any strikes," Rao clarified. "Surgical ones. We've identified several top ISI operatives, handlers who've been running their covert operations for long time. They're ghosts, rarely seen in public, and their disappearance wouldn't stir up too much noise immediately. If we can take them out, we'll cut the legs out from under ISI's network. We'll leave them scrambling."
Rohan nodded slowly, but there was caution in his eyes. "If we go after them, Pakistan will retaliate, Rao. This could escalate into open conflict."
Rao remained firm. "With respect, sir, we're already in conflict. The moment they sent Saeed Khan after me, they declared their intentions. They won't rest until they get some form of revenge. We either wait for their strike, or we make our move first."
Rohan leaned back in his chair, digesting the reality that his descision will create.
It wasn't just about revenge or tit-for-tat actions.
This was about protecting India's future, neutralizing threats before they turned into something worse.
ISI had become bolder, and if left unchecked, they could gain the upper hand.
"What's your plan for this?" Rohan asked after a long pause.
Rao opened another thin folder he had brought along.
Inside were photographs and dossiers on four high-ranking ISI officers.
"These men," Rao said, tapping the folder, "are responsible for most of ISI's black operations. They're well-protected, but we've tracked their movements over the last few months. We know where they operate, and we know when they're vulnerable. If we hit them quickly and quietly, ISI won't be able to function effectively for months."
Rohan studied the photos in front of him. These were dangerous men, not just for India but for stability in the region. "You're confident we can pull this off without triggering something bigger?"
Rao's voice was calm but resolute. "We don't have a choice, sir. We can't wait for them to strike us first. We take them out, and we buy ourselves time. They'll be too busy picking up the pieces of their network to retaliate immediately."
Rohan thought for a moment, his eyes drifting to the window overlooking the capital.
The city seemed peaceful, but he knew better. Beneath the surface, in the halls of power and the dark corners of intelligence, wars were being fought every day.
And as Prime Minister, it was his job to ensure India stayed ahead in that war.
Finally, he nodded. "You have my green light, Rao. But keep this as silent as possible. We can't afford public attention. The fewer people who know, the better."
Rao stood, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thank you, sir. We'll get to work immediately."
---
Back at R&AW, the atmosphere had shifted. With the internal mole hunt completed, Rao's team was now focused on the external threat.
The next phase was risky, but it was necessary to cripple ISI's capacity to strike back.
Ajay Singh sat across from Rao, listening intently as his mentor and boss laid out the plan.
"We have four primary targets," Rao said, sliding the photos across the table. "All high-ranking ISI operatives. They've been involved in everything. We've monitored their movements for weeks, and we have a small window to act."
Ajay picked up one of the photos, studying the face of the man in it.
Farooq Aziz, an ISI handler who had been active in Kashmir for some time. He was known for being ruthless and methodical, a man who left no loose ends.
Taking him down wouldn't be easy.
"These are top-tier operatives," Ajay said, his voice calm but serious. "How are we handling it?"
Rao leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "We go dark. These men are smart, they're expecting us to make a move, but not like this. We won't go after them with large teams or traditional methods. This will be an operation conducted by a handful of trusted agents, agents who can get in and out without leaving a trace."
Ajay nodded. "Infiltration?"
"Yes," Rao confirmed. "We'll send in small teams to each location. Hit them where they're most vulnerable, eliminate the target, and disappear before ISI even knows what's happened."
Ajay's mind was already running through the logistics. Each target would require a different approach, different tools, different tactics.
But he trusted Rao's judgment.
This was the kind of operation that could change the course of the intelligence war between India and Pakistan.
"When do we move?" Ajay asked, his voice steady.
"As soon as we finalize the details," Rao replied. "This has to be perfect, Ajay. We can't afford a mistake."
Ajay stood, his resolve unwavering. "We'll make it happen."
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89.94%A New India / Chapter 160: Capturing Farooq Aziz
Chapter 160: Capturing Farooq Aziz
They have been working on Gathering Intel, hoping to catch all the 7 at the same time but unfortunately it was not that easy to do so.
K.N. Rao stood in the operations room, his eyes fixed on the large map on the wall.
The map displayed locations all across Pakistan, cities, military bases, and the movements of key individuals.
But Rao's attention wasn't on the fringe elements though important but killing them right now will only alert ISI more and not do more damage.
He was focused on seven names, seven ISI operatives that had been running Pakistan's dangerous covert operations for long time.
These weren't just bureaucrats or middlemen; these were ISI's top players, handlers, and strategists.
They were responsible for most of the movement of ISI across Afghanistan, Pakistan and India.
Taking them out wouldn't be easy. For they have covered everything and move frequently without alerting anyone.
To complicate it more even some higher ups in ISI found it hard to track them most of the time
But that was exactly what Rao and Ajay Singh intended to do.
As sometimes you find a window that shatters all the complexities.
Ajay entered the room, carrying a file full of fresh intelligence reports.
His face was serious, as always, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes.
"We've got fresh intel from our sources," Ajay said, laying the file on the table in front of Rao. "It's not much, but it's a start. We've confirmed the whereabouts of three of the seven operatives. Even tracking these three was hard but here it is"
Rao nodded, his face blank as he scanned the documents. "Any patterns?"
Ajay leaned over the map, pointing to three different locations. "They move constantly, never staying in one place for more than a week. They're aware they're targets, but they've also gotten sloppy. Two of them have returned to old contacts, people we've had under surveillance for months. That's our way in."
Rao's eyes flickered with interest as he studied the movements. "Who's the closest to us?"
Ajay flipped through the pages. "Farooq Aziz, the one who's been active in Kashmir. He's in Rawalpindi, but we believe he's planning to move soon."
Rao tapped the table with his fingers. Farooq Aziz had been a thorn in India's side for years
His removal would send shockwaves through ISI. But this wasn't just about eliminating the operatives, it was about sending a message.
"Good," Rao said, his voice calm. "Let's start with Aziz. The others will fall in line once they realize what's happening."
Ajay nodded. "We have a local contact in Rawalpindi, one of our long-term assets. He's already confirmed Aziz's location, but we'll need to move fast. If Aziz slips away, we might lose him for months."
"Then we move now," Rao said, turning toward the operations team. "Start the mission prep."
Rawalpindi - On the Ground
A few nights later, the narrow streets of Rawalpindi were quiet under the cover of darkness.
The usual hustle of the city had dimmed to a low murmur as the last few street vendors packed up for the night.
But Farooq Aziz wasn't thinking about street vendors or the quiet night.
He was sitting in a private room, hidden deep inside a safe house provided by his ISI contacts.
Farooq was cautious by nature. He had to be. His work over the years of coordinating covert operations against India, had made him a high-value target.
He was always looking over his shoulder, never trusting anyone fully.
Tonight, though, he was more restless than usual.
His instincts told him something was off. His contacts had reported unusual chatter in the intelligence networks, the kind of chatter that suggested someone was tracking him.
He picked up his telephone and dialed a secure line, waiting for the voice on the other end.
"Anything new?" Farooq asked, his voice low.
"No, sir," the voice replied. "The area is clean. We've swept for bugs. No one is watching."
Farooq didn't trust that reassurance. He had been in this game too long to take anyone's word at face value.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it.
His ISI handler had requested a meeting, and he needed to prepare to move locations once again.
A few blocks away, in a modest apartment that looked like any other in the crowded city,
Rahim, one of R&AW's most trusted local contacts, sat at his desk, his eyes at the intel
He had been working undercover for India for over a long time, feeding them valuable intelligence from within Pakistan's intelligence circles.
Tonight, he was waiting for the signal that would confirm Farooq Aziz's location.
Rahim's soon recieved a coded message from one of his informants.
He read it carefully, his fingers trembling slightly as he realized what it meant. Aziz was still in the safe house, but not for long.
If R&AW was going to strike, it had to be tonight.
He immediately sent the message to Ajay, who was monitoring the situation from a safe house across the border in Amritsar.
The time had come.
Within hours, a team of R&AW operatives was mobilized, quietly slipping into Rawalpindi under the guise of civilians.
Dressed in plain clothes, they moved like shadows through the city, avoiding checkpoints and slipping past ISI's surveillance.
They had one goal, neutralize Farooq Aziz before he could escape again.
Ajay, monitoring the operation from India, communicated with his field commander through encrypted channels.
His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was focused.
This was the culmination of months of planning, years of surveillance, and countless lives lost to ISI's covert operations.
The team moved silently through the backstreets, led by Rajesh, a veteran operative who had been in countless operations like this one.
Rajesh knew how dangerous it was to operate in Pakistan, but this wasn't his first time, and it wouldn't be his last.
"We're in position," Rajesh whispered into his radio, glancing at the dimly lit safe house just ahead. "Aziz is still inside. Surveillance confirms no major movement in the last hour."
Ajay's voice crackled through the comms. "Copy that. Move in quickly. No noise."
Rajesh gestured to his team, and they moved swiftly but silently toward the entrance.
Two operatives stayed behind to guard the perimeter, watching for any unexpected ISI activity.
The others approached the back door of the building, cutting through the rusty old lock in seconds.
Inside the Safe House
Farooq Aziz heard the faintest click behind him. He had been in enough tight situations to recognize the sound of a door being tampered with.
His instincts kicked in immediately, and he reached for the gun on the table in front of him, knocking over a cup of tea in the process.
But by the time he turned around, it was too late.
Rajesh and his team were already inside, their weapons drawn.
Farooq barely had time to raise his pistol before Rajesh tackled him to the ground, slamming his arm against the cold concrete floor.
The gun flew out of Farooq's hand, skidding across the room.
"Stay down," Rajesh growled, pressing his knee into Farooq's chest, pinning him.
Farooq struggled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to free himself.
But Rajesh's grip was ironclad, and within seconds.
Farooq realized there was no escaping this.
One of the other operatives secured Farooq's hands behind his back, while another searched the room, making sure no one else was there.
The safe house was empty, just as they had expected.
Farooq had been operating alone for the last few months, trying to stay under the radar.
But now, his luck had run out.
Within minutes, the team had Farooq gagged and blindfolded, his hands and feet bound securely.
They moved swiftly, exiting the building as silently as they had entered.
The city remained quiet, oblivious to the operation that had just taken place under its nose.
As they made their way through the narrow alleys, Ajay's voice came through the comms once again. "Status?"
"Target secured," Rajesh replied, keeping his voice low. "We're heading to the extraction point."
Ajay exhaled, feeling the tension ease just slightly.
The first of their seven targets had been taken down.
But this was just the beginning.
Hours later, back in New Delhi, Rao stood with Ajay in the operations room, watching as the team made their final approach to the extraction point.
It had been a clean operation, one without any casualties or complications.
"They'll realize soon enough that Aziz is missing," Ajay said, still monitoring the situation.
"Let them," Rao replied, his voice cold. "By the time ISI figures out what's happened, we'll be two steps ahead."
Ajay nodded. "One down, six to go."
Rao's gaze remained fixed on the map. The operation was far from over, but tonight had proven that R&AW had the upper hand
And as long as they kept moving, ISI wouldn't know what hit them.
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90.5%A New India / Chapter 161: Going After Arif
Chapter 161: Going After Arif
Next afternoon in the room Rao sat silently looking at this new Intel which occupied his mind with various strategies.
Ajay Singh, sitting across from him, was already scanning the next set of documents.
Rao said, breaking the silence. "We have Farooq, but the other six... They'll know we're coming."
Ajay nodded, his face lined with exhaustion. They had been on this mission for days without rest.
He rubbed his eyes
"We can't let them scatter, sir. We've hit them hard, but the others will be on high alert now. They'll move fast."
"Which is why we need to move faster," Rao replied, sliding a file toward Ajay. "We've got a lead on the second one, Arif Chaudhry. One of our ground sources has spotted him heading toward Quetta."
Ajay glanced at the file, already knowing the name.
Arif was a mastermind, responsible for orchestrating attacks along the Indian border for years.
Taking him down would cripple ISI's operations in Balochistan.
But Quetta was deep inside enemy territory, getting to him wouldn't be easy.
Rao sensed Ajay's hesitation. "We've come this far, Ajay. We can't afford to slow down now. If we miss this chance, it could be months, maybe years before we get another opportunity."
Ajay exhaled, pushing the fatigue to the back of his mind. "I'll need to put together a team. This won't be clean."
Rao nodded, his gaze steady. "Do what you have to. But remember, we're not just after Arif. We're sending a message. ISI needs to know that no matter where they hide, we'll find them."
Days later, under the cover of darkness, Captain Vikram and his handpicked team of six men crossed the rugged terrain outside Quetta.
The journey had been hard. No radios, no advanced tracking devices, just a few maps, their instincts, and a local guide who knew the region like the back of his hand.
The wind challenged them as they approached the compound where Arif Chaudhry was said to be hiding.
The walls of the old, weather-beaten structure loomed in the distance, guarded by ISI agents who were well-armed and well-trained.
Vikram's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area from their vantage point on a hilltop.
"Looks quiet," whispered Ravi, one of Vikram's trusted men, crouching next to him. "Too quiet."
Vikram grunted. "They know we're coming."
He turned to the rest of his team, their faces illuminated by the faint moonlight.
These men had followed him through hell before, but this time even they knew sacrifice is inevitable.
"We move in pairs," Vikram said in a low voice. "Stay silent. Take out the guards quietly. We can't afford to alert the whole compound."
The men nodded, gripping their weapons tightly. There was no turning back now.
Vikram and Ravi were the first to approach the compound, moving like shadows in the night.
The guards stationed outside seemed relaxed, unaware of the danger creeping toward them.
Vikram gestured to Ravi, and with swift precision, they pounced on the two closest guards, silencing them with their knives before dragging the bodies into the bushes.
The others followed suit, taking down the remaining guards without a sound.
But as Vikram neared the compound's entrance, his instincts screamed at him. Something wasn't right.
He paused, glancing back at Ravi.
"Watch the windows," Vikram muttered. "Something feels off."
Ravi nodded, keeping his eyes on the dimly lit windows above.
They moved forward cautiously, each step deliberate.
The compound was old and crumbling in places, with walls thick enough to muffle the sounds of life within.
But as they reached the entrance, the quiet of the night was shattered.
A gunshot rang out.
One of the guards must have seen movement, maybe a glint of metal, or perhaps it was just luck.
But before Vikram could react, the bullets started flying.
"Take cover!" Vikram shouted, diving behind a low stone wall as the night erupted into chaos.
The compound suddenly came alive with the sound of gunfire.
Vikram's men scrambled for cover, returning fire as best they could, but the ISI agents inside had the advantage.
They knew the terrain, and they had the numbers.
"We're pinned down!" Ravi yelled, his voice barely audible over the deafening shots. "They've got us from both sides!"
Vikram gritted his teeth. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
They had planned for a quiet infiltration, but now they were caught in a deadly firefight, far from any backup.
His mind raced as he tried to assess the situation.
They couldn't retreatz not now. Arif was in there, and this was their only chance to take him down.
"Push forward!" Vikram yelled, motioning for his men to advance. "We can't let them trap us here!"
One of his men, Suresh, moved quickly from cover to cover, laying down suppressing fire as the others advanced.
But as he dashed toward a doorway, a spray of bullets caught him in the side.
"Suresh!" Vikram's heart sank as he watched his comrade fall, blood pooling beneath him.
There was no time to grieve.
He grabbed Ravi by the arm, pulling him toward the entrance.
"We've got to get inside," Vikram said, his voice thick with urgency. "If we stay out here, we're dead."
With a final push, Vikram and his remaining men burst through the entrance, charging into the compound's main hall.
Inside the compound, they moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the narrow corridors.
The gunfire outside had slowed, but the threat was far from over.
Arif Chaudhry was still somewhere in the building, and Vikram wasn't leaving without him.
They made their way through the dimly lit hallways, kicking down doors and clearing rooms.
Finally, they reached a large, reinforced door at the end of the hall.
"He's in there," Ravi whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
Vikram nodded, motioning for his men to take position.
They prepared to breach the door, knowing that whatever lay behind it could mean the difference between success and failure.
With a swift kick, the door burst open, and there he wasz Arif Chaudhry, standing in the center of the room, his gun raised.
His eyes were wild, darting between the men who had just stormed in.
"Drop it!" Vikram shouted, leveling his weapon at Arif's chest.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Arif's grip on the gun tightened, his face twisted with desperation.
He had nowhere to run, no way out.
"Drop the gun!" Vikram yelled again, his voice hard with authority.
But Arif didn't move. Instead, he raised the gun, his finger twitching toward the trigger.
Before he could fire, Vikram's men shot first, sending Arif crumpling to the ground, blood spreading across his chest.
Vikram stood over him, breathing heavily. He had wanted to take Arif alive, but the man had given them no choice.
They had lost too much already to let him take one more life.
As the battle ended, Vikram's men gathered their wounded and counted the dead.
Suresh was gone, along with another young operative, Mahesh, who had been shot in the chaos.
Vikram crouched next to Arif's lifeless body, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline.
The mission was over, but the grief of losing his men killed him more.
Ravi placed a hand on Vikram's shoulder, his voice soft. "We got him, sir. We did what we came here to do."
Vikram nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. The cost had been too high.
-----
When the team returned to New Delhi, the mood in R&AW headquarters was somber.
Rao stood in silence as Vikram debriefed him, his face hardened as he listened to the details of the mission.
"We lost two men," Vikram said, his voice heavy with grief. "But we got Arif."
Rao nodded slowly, his eyes still saying nothing. "Good work, Captain. You did what needed to be done."
But even as Rao spoke, the feeling of loss cannot be changed but they knew only 2 of the 7 are down and as the number increase so will the casualties and they are not even sure if they can kill all 7.
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91.06%A New India / Chapter 162: ISI Moving Fast - Operation Safeguard
Chapter 162: ISI Moving Fast - Operation Safeguard
Today the ISI headquarters was silent. There was a sense of fear and pressure above each and every agent.
Something had gone terribly wrong, and it wasn't just about the two high-ranking ISI operatives Farooq Aziz and Arif Chaudhry, who were now gone.
The real issue was the terrifying realization that R&AW, India's intelligence agency, had outplayed them at their own game.
Khalid Qureshi sat in his office, his face expressionless but his mind was currently full of chaos.
First he finally got the generals to agree with his plan of not going public with Chagai Hills sabotaged and taking a new path of destroying India from within.
But when it came to implementation he needed his network fully unified and working at full capacity and that is why he needed his men fully secured and ready to move.
He had made several attempts to contact Farooq and Arif over the past few days, all of which had been met with a chilling silence.
Finally after some digging and visit to thier last location. It was now official, one was dead, and the other had been captured.
But how had it happened so quickly?
ISI's network wasn't just strong, it was nearly impenetrable, or so Khalid had believed.
To lose two men like Farooq and Arif in such a short span of time indicated something much worse than simple bad luck.
Someone within ISI had betrayed them.
He has been trying to find the mole within ISI ever since Chagai Hills but now this has evolved into something bigger.
These moles have penetrated deep within the ISI framewo.
Khalid knew that if he didn't act fast, R&AW would continue to dismantle ISI's covert network one by one.
The remaining five operatives in the field were essential. They carried out the most sensitive and dangerous missions, supplying arms, and feeding ISI with crucial intelligence from all corners of the region.
Losing even one more would cripple ISI's entire framework, something Pakistan could not afford.
Leaning back in his chair, Khalid let out a long breath.
The walls seemed to be closing in on him.
His mind raced for solutions.
They were no longer on the offensive. R&AW had flipped the tables, and now ISI was playing defense.
"We need to move fast," Khalid muttered to himself before picking up the phone to summon his top men.
Within minutes everyone was assembled as they moved towards the Operation room.
In a dimly lit room, Khalid stood before his most trusted officers. His face, usually calm and composed, showed signs of strain.
Abdul Rashid leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his own features locked in a frown.
The rest of the team sat in silence, waiting for Khalid to speak.
"Farooq's captured, and Arif's dead," Khalid said, his voice measured but cold. "We've lost two of our best operatives, and I refuse to lose more."
The room remained silent, though the tension in the air was crushing.
"We have five operatives left," Khalid continued. "And if R&AW has been this effective, they'll be after them next. We need to secure them immediately. Major Imran, I want you to oversee the relocation of Colonel Tariq and Major Farhan Ali. The others will follow shortly after."
Imran nodded, but his brow furrowed in concern. "Sir, R&AW has been moving swiftly and quietly. By the time we realize they've hit, it's already too late. How can we ensure the safe extraction of these men without tipping off R&AW?"
Khalid didn't respond immediately. He knew that the next steps would be risky, and he was about to put everything on the line to safeguard what remained of ISI's most critical assets.
"We go dark," Khalid finally said. "No radios, no phones. Use old methods. Handwritten notes, face-to-face communication, nothing that can be intercepted. We'll start moving them tonight."
He paused before turning to Abdul Rashid. "But that's not all. We have another problem. There's a mole in our ranks. It's the only explanation for how quickly R&AW has moved."
Rashid straightened agreeing. "A mole"
Khalid nodded. "Someone close to Farooq or Arif must've leaked information. I want you to start an internal investigation. We'll root out the traitor before they can do more damage."
Rashid gave a sharp nod. "Understood."
As night fell over Islamabad, ISI scrambled to protect the remaining five operatives.
The pressure was increasing, every move made with the knowledge that R&AW could be watching, waiting to strike.
Major Farhan Ali, stationed near Peshawar, was one of the first to receive orders.
Unlike the others, Farhan had been expecting something to go wrong.
He was the kind of man who never trusted anyone fully, not even his own allies.
Farhan sat in a dimly lit room, scanning the handwritten note that had been delivered by one of Khalid's trusted couriers.
The message was simple: Move tonight. No contact. Safe house in the mountains.
He read it twice before burning it in the flame of a nearby candle.
His instincts had been right, R&AW was coming for him. He had already packed his bags, ready to leave at a moment's notice.
There would be no goodbyes, no trace left behind. Only silence.
But not all of ISI's operatives were as prepared.
Colonel Tariq, stationed near Karachi, hadn't sensed the danger creeping toward him.
He had grown comfortable, trusting the layers of security and secrecy that surrounded him.
Unfortunately for him, R&AW had already been watching.
Back in Islamabad, Officers whispered in hallways, side-eyeing each other with suspicion.
The idea of a mole sent ripples of paranoia throughout the agency.
Major Hassan, one of the officers tasked with finding the leak, sat at a desk overflowing with personnel files, trying to piece together who could have betrayed Farooq and Arif.
His colleague, Captain Adeel, was cross-referencing communication logs, looking for irregularities.
"It has to be someone close to them," Hassan said, shaking his head in frustration. "We've checked every line of communication, but nothing seems out of place. Whoever this is, they're smart."
Adeel nodded. "Too smart. It's almost like they knew what we'd be looking for."
The investigation into the mole had stalled, but Khalid wasn't one to let things go as it is.
He ordered tighter surveillance on all high-ranking officers, trusting no one, not even his closest allies.
The mole had to be caught before they could pass any more information to India.
Meanwhile, R&AW was preparing to strike again. Ajay Singh had been monitoring the situation closely, tracking every piece of information they could get on ISI's movements.
They had managed to locate Tariq last known whereabouts, but getting to him in the mountain near Karachi would be difficult.
"The ISI is going dark," Ajay said as he stood over a map of Pakistan. "No electronic communications, no radio chatter. They know we're watching. We'll need to rely on human intelligence."
Rajesh, the field operative who had led the successful missions against Farooq and Arif, nodded. "We've got contacts on the ground, but it's risky. Getting into Karachi without alerting ISI will take time."
"We don't have time," Ajay replied, his voice tense. "If we don't move fast, they'll relocate all five, and we'll lose our chance."
Rao, who had been listening quietly from the corner of the room, finally spoke up. "We need to hit them while they're scrambling. If we let them regroup, ISI will strike back with everything they have."
Ajay nodded.
In the following days, the remaining five operatives were moved under the cover of darkness, each one relocated to different parts of Pakistan.
Major Farhan Ali had reached the mountains safely.
Colonel Tariq was not so lucky. R&AW was closing in, and time was running out for ISI.
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91.62%A New India / Chapter 163: Capturing Tariq
Chapter 163: Capturing Tariq
The quiet, coastal city of Karachi was just starting to wake up under the soft glow of dawn.
Fishermen were preparing their boats, shopkeepers were setting up their stalls, and in a hidden compound on the outskirts of the city.
Colonel Tariq, one of ISI's most seasoned operatives, was finishing his morning routine.
Tariq had been moved here in haste.
ISI knew R&AW was closing in on its top handlers.
It was only a matter of time before they came for him, and yet Tariq, in his arrogance, believed he was untouchable.
His location was secure, the compound heavily fortified, and his guards were handpicked by ISI's best.
But he had underestimated Ajay Singh and his team.
Far away New Delhi, the mood was tense but determined.
The successful operations against Farooq and Arif had given R&AW the upper hand, but Colonel Tariq was an entirely different beast.
He was a high-ranking ISI official, the kind of man who didn't make mistakes, the kind who wouldn't go down easily.
Ajay stood in the operations room, surrounded by maps and dossiers.
His eyes were locked on a map of the compound where Tariq was holed up.
"Tariq's compound is heavily guarded," Ajay said, his voice measured as he addressed the small team assembled around him. "The place is crawling with ISI agents, and they've set up multiple checkpoints around the perimeter. This isn't going to be a quiet extraction."
Rajesh, the field operative who had led the earlier missions, nodded. "It won't be easy. We'll be walking into a hornet's nest."
Ajay didn't flinch. "We don't have a choice. This is our last chance to take Tariq before he disappears completely. We go in hard, we go in fast, and we don't stop until we have him in custody."
"Any questions?" Ajay asked, his eyes scanning the room.
Silence.
"Good," Ajay said. "Gear up. We move at first light."
------
Within few hours through secret routes and agents deep within Pakistan Army and ISI, they were able to reach Karachi
The streets of Karachi were eerily quiet as the R&AW team made their way toward the heavily fortified compound on the outskirts of the city.
The mission to capture him was going to be bloody, but there was no turning back.
In the darkened van, Ajay Singh checked his weapon. His face was tense, his jaw set, as he glanced at the men around him.
These were men he trusted, soldiers he had fought beside in countless operations.
Ravi, Rajesh, Amit, Iqbal, and Sandeep sat quietly, preparing themselves for what was to come.
They knew the risks. They had accepted them.
Now it was time for action.
The compound was a fortress, a large structure surrounded by high walls, barbed wire, and armed guards who patrolled the perimeter.
Ajay and his team crouched low in the shadows as they approached the compound's fence, their movements swift and precise.
"We cut through here," Rajesh whispered, pulling out a pair of wire cutters.
As Rajesh silently worked on the fence, Ajay kept an eye on the guard towers.
The guards were inattentive, but that wouldn't last long.
They needed to move fast, or everything would fall apart.
The fence gave way with a soft metallic sound, and one by one, the team slipped through, disappearing into the compound's maze-like layout.
The plan was simple, breach the building, eliminate any resistance, and capture Tariq alive.
But things never went as planned.
As they approached the central building, their presence was detected.
A lone guard, standing near the entrance, caught a glimpse of Ravi out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey!" the guard yelled, raising his rifle.
Before he could fire, Ajay whipped out his silenced pistol and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet found its mark, embedding itself in the guard's throat.
The man collapsed instantly, clutching his neck as he bled out on the cold concrete floor.
The gurgling sound of his final breath sent a chill down the team's spines.
There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. The alarm had been raised.
"We're blown!" Ajay barked. "Move! Move!"
The team burst forward, guns drawn, as guards poured out of the building. The sound of gunfire filled the air, deafening in the confined space.
Bullets tore through the night as Ajay and his men took cover behind a low stone wall, returning fire with deadly accuracy.
"Take them down!" Rajesh shouted, his voice strained as he leaned out from behind cover and fired off a few rounds.
A guard fell, his chest torn apart by the bullets, but more were coming.
"Flank them!" Ajay ordered, signaling Sandeep and Amit to move to the right.
The two men darted forward, using the crates and debris for cover, but the enemy was prepared.
One of the guards spotted Amit and fired. The bullet slammed into Amit's thigh, and he dropped to the ground with a scream, clutching his leg as blood poured from the wound.
"Man down!" Ravi shouted, firing at the guard who had hit Amit.
The bullet struck the guard's head, and he fell backward, his skull splitting open on impact with the ground.
But there was no time to save Amit. The team was pinned down, outnumbered, and the sound of gunfire was drawing more and more guards to their location.
Ajay clenched his jaw, his mind racing. "We push forward! Don't stop!"
The air was full of smoke and ground filled with blood as Ajay's team advanced toward the building's entrance.
The guards inside were well-trained, well-armed, and merciless.
Ajay watched as Rajesh ducked out of cover, firing rapidly, but a barrage of bullets ripped through the wall behind him, showering him with dust and debris.
"Ravi! Cover him!" Ajay shouted.
Ravi turned, laying down suppressing fire to give Rajesh time to advance.
But the enemy's fire was unrelenting, and the narrow passageways of the compound became a death trap.
The gunshots seemed to echo off the walls, growing louder and louder as the team pressed forward, each step more dangerous than the last.
Suddenly, a guard appeared from behind a corner and fired a burst of automatic gunfire. Iqbal, who had been moving alongside Sandeep, was hit.
The bullets tore into his chest, and he let out a sharp cry before collapsing against the wall. Blood poured from the wounds, staining the ground beneath him.
"Iqbal's hit!" Sandeep screamed, rushing to his side.
But Ajay knew they couldn't stop. Not now.
"Leave him!" Ajay barked, the words heavy with grief. "We can't stop!"
Rajesh fired another shot, taking down the guard who had shot Iqbal, but it was too late.
Iqbal's body lay still, the life drained from him.
Sandeep choked back a sob, his hands trembling as he reloaded his weapon.
The team pushed forward, knowing that every second counted.
The sound of gunfire was deafening.
Each step felt like it could be their last.
They soon reached the main entrance, bursting through the heavy doors and into the dimly lit building.
The hallway stretched out before them, but they knew they were close.
Colonel Tariq was somewhere inside, and they had to capture him, no matter the cost.
The team moved quickly, clearing room after room, but the enemy wasn't done yet.
A group of ISI soldiers had set up a barricade at the end of the hallway, their weapons trained on the entrance.
The moment Ajay's team appeared, a hail of bullets tore through the air.
Sandeep and Ravi returned fire, but the enemy had the advantage of numbers and position.
As the team exchanged fire, Ravi was hit in the chest.
He stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock as he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
Rajesh rushed to his side, but it was clear, Ravi was dying.
"Stay with me, Ravi!" Rajesh shouted, tears streaming down his face as he held his comrade.
But Ravi was gone.
With fury burning in their hearts, Ajay and Rajesh pushed forward, eliminating the remaining guards with brutal efficiency.
The sound of gunfire slowly faded as they reached the final door.
Inside the room, Colonel Tariq stood, his eyes wide with fear.
The once-arrogant ISI officer now looked like a trapped animal, his hands trembling as he reached for a pistol.
"Don't!" Ajay shouted, aiming his weapon at Tariq's chest.
For a moment, it seemed like Tariq would fight.
His hand hovered over the pistol, but then, with a slow, defeated sigh, he raised his hands in surrender.
Rajesh stormed forward, grabbing Tariq and pinning his arms behind his back.
"You're done," he growled, his voice thick with anger.
Tariq didn't respond. He knew it was over.
The team emerged from the compound and ran away with the escape plan they had already made and met with the extraction team.
They had captured Colonel Tariq, but the cost had been high. Amit, Iqbal, and Ravi were dead.
The grief killed them from within
Ajay stared at the ground, his mind filled with the faces of the men they had lost.
He had known this mission would be dangerous, but the reality of it was crushing.
As they reached the extraction vehicle, Rajesh looked at Ajay, his face etched with pain. "Was it worth it?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Ajay didn't answer.
He didn't know.
The price they had paid was far too high.
But as the van sped away, with Colonel Tariq in custody, Ajay knew one thing for certain.
The war wasn't over.
Four more to go.
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92.17%A New India / Chapter 164: Purge
Chapter 164: Purge
Khalid was furious, no, beyond furious. Colonel Tariq, one of his most trusted men, had been captured by R&AW, and this wasn't just a loss, it was a catastrophe.
They had plucked him right out of Karachi, under the noses of his own men.
This had gone too far.
Losing two operatives in such a short time was embarrassing enough, but Tariq
He had thought Tariq was untouchable.
That confidence was now shattered.
Khalid slammed his fist down on the desk, sending papers flying.
His office, usually a sanctuary of calculated control, now felt like a prison, suffocating him with the consequences of his failures.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
Abdul Rashid, his second-in-command, stepped inside, his face unreadable.
He'd been waiting for Khalid to snap, but what came next was beyond anything he expected.
"They've humiliated us," Khalid spat, the venom in his voice clear. "This is no longer about catching up, Abdul. They're ahead of us, and we're bleeding."
Rashid stood silently, waiting for Khalid to continue.
He knew the fury brewing inside his superior, he could see it in the clench of Khalid's jaw, the wild look in his eyes.
"I want them gone," Khalid growled. "All of them. R&AW thinks they can break us from the inside, tear us apart piece by piece. I won't let that happen. We're going to fight back."
"Sir?" Rashid asked cautiously, though he already knew what was coming.
"A purge, Abdul. We've been too trusting, too complacent. There's a rot within ISI, and I'll burn it out if I have to."
Khalid picked up the phone, dialing directly to General Ayub Khan, the man who ran Pakistan with an iron fist.
General Ayub Khan wasn't an easy man to rattle, but Khalid's voice had a tone of desperation that was hard to ignore.
"I need your permission to launch a full-scale internal purge," Khalid said, his words clipped and urgent.
"We've been compromised. I can't trust half my men. R&AW's reach is deeper than we thought."
There was silence on the other end of the line as Ayub processed what Khalid was asking.
A purge of ISI was no small matter. It could destabilize the agency and spark fear within its ranks.
But the recent losses couldn't be ignored. Losing Tariq was a significant blow, one that could expose ISI's most sensitive operations.
"Do what you have to," Ayub finally replied, his voice hard. "But be careful, Khalid. We need ISI strong, not paranoid."
Khalid barely listened to the warning. His mind was already set.
He was going to purge ISI, and he wasn't going to stop until he was sure that the mole, whoever it was had been rooted out.
Within hours, ISI officers across Pakistan were being called into meetings, some in the middle of the night, others dragged from their homes.
Khalid was moving fast, ordering his most loyal men to lead the purge.
The directive was simple: interrogate, break, and eliminate.
Anyone who showed even the slightest sign of disloyalty was a target.
The first to go were those closest to Colonel Tariq.
Major Imran and his team had been responsible for Tariq's security detail in Karachi.
Khalid had already made up his mind that they were either incompetent or compromised.
----
Major Imran sat across from Khalid in a dark interrogation room.
His hands were cuffed to the table, his face bruised from the initial "interview" that had taken place.
The fluorescent light overhead flickered, casting shadows that danced across the room.
"Tell me again, Imran," Khalid said, his voice dangerously calm. "How exactly did R&AW manage to walk into Karachi and take Tariq right from under your nose?"
Imran's eyes were bloodshot, his face swollen from the beating he'd already endured. "Sir, we—"
Before he could finish, Khalid's fist slammed into his face, knocking Imran's head back against the metal chair.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Khalid snarled, standing over the man. "You had one job. One. And now Tariq is in an Indian prison, spilling everything he knows. You were either in on it, or you're completely useless. Either way, you've failed me."
Imran coughed, blood dripping from his split lip. "Sir, please. We didn't know. They moved so fast… there was nothing we could—"
Khalid grabbed the back of Imran's head and slammed it onto the table, the dull thud of his skull against metal echoing in the small room.
"You think I care about your excuses?" Khalid spat, his eyes wild with fury. "You and your team failed. Do you know what that means?"
Imran was gasping for breath, his vision blurry, but he understood the meaning behind Khalid's words. They were dead men walking.
---
Across Islamabad and Karachi, the purge was underway.
ISI officers were dragged from their homes, interrogated in dark rooms, and, in many cases, executed without trial.
Khalid's men, those he trusted implicitly, were given orders to show no mercy. This wasn't about justice, it was about survival.
In one of the many safe houses ISI used, Major Ali, another senior officer, was woken in the dead of night.
He had heard rumors of the purge but hadn't expected it to come for him.
The door to his room burst open, and three men stormed in, rifles drawn.
Ali barely had time to reach for his gun before they were on him. A swift kick to his chest sent him crashing into the wall.
"What the hell is this?" Ali spat, blood trickling from his mouth as he struggled to stand.
"The purge," one of the men replied coldly. "You're under suspicion of working with R&AW."
Ali's heart raced. "You think I'm a traitor? Are you insane?"
One of the men punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "We're not here to argue, Major. We're here to ensure ISI's survival."
Ali's eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out, but there was none. He was trapped.
Before he could make another move, a bullet tore through his leg, sending him crashing to the ground.
The pain was excruciating, but he knew worse was coming.
"Please, I'm loyal," Ali gasped, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding.
"I've served ISI my whole life."
But his pleas fell on deaf ears. The men dragged him from the room, leaving a trail of blood behind them.
Outside, the streets were eerily quiet, as if the city itself knew that something dark was happening behind closed doors.
As the purge raged on, Khalid's anger only grew.
Every officer brought before him was met with the same cold rage, the same brutal interrogation.
He wanted names, wanted to know who had betrayed ISI, who had handed over Tariq to R&AW.
Abdul Rashid, who had once stood loyally by Khalid's side, was beginning to question the wisdom of the purge.
The agency was bleeding, and soon there would be no one left to trust.
"Khalid, we need to stop," Rashid said, stepping into Khalid's office late one night.
"We're tearing ISI apart from the inside. The men are scared. Morale is in the gutter."
Khalid looked up from his desk, his eyes cold and distant. "We're cleaning house, Abdul. When this is over, ISI will be stronger than ever."
Rashid shook his head. "At what cost? We've lost over a dozen officers. Men who were loyal. Men who had nothing to do with Tariq's capture."
Khalid stood up, walking slowly toward Rashid. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just about Tariq. R&AW is trying to destroy us. I will not let that happen. We need to root out the rot before it consumes everything."
Rashid stared at him for a moment, seeing the madness in his eyes.
He realized then that Khalid was too far gone.
The purge wouldn't stop until every shred of doubt had been eliminated, no matter how many lives it took.
By the end of the week, ISI was a shadow of its former self.
Dozens of officers had been purged, either executed or disappeared.
Khalid had eliminated anyone he deemed a threat, but in doing so, he had sown fear and distrust throughout the agency.
In his office, Khalid stood by the window, looking out over Islamabad.
The city was quiet, but he knew the storm was far from over.
R&AW had taken Colonel Tariq, but Khalid had taken his revenge.
Or so he thought.
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92.73%A New India / Chapter 165: End of Khalid
Chapter 165: End of Khalid