November 21st
line of control, Middle East
Under the embrace of starlight, several thousand alliance soldiers in squadrons of fifteen crossed the Line of Control using the tunnels which had been dug in several parts of the border, all in the range of 4 to 5 kilometres.
Agni, whose current identity is now Jvalā, crawled out of the tunnel after a few of the soldiers under his command had already taken the lead. Getting up to a kneeling position, he took a deep breath as the chilly air of the morning completely refreshed his mind and put it in a state of high alert. Adjusting his glasses, he looked around at the surroundings like a hawk that searches for its prey or a tiger overseeing its territory, not allowing a single intruder to escape its sight.
The soldiers who came out of the tunnel before Jvalā were doing the same, but what little light was radiating from the moon and the stars was far from enough for the soldiers to ascertain what was happening, and that was true even if they were using the telescope. However, as Jvalā squinted and put his eye to the eyepiece, he vaguely captured a faint glow of light that emanated around a human silhouette.
"Enemy scout 400 metres ahead. He is on top of the watchtower. Be careful to only appear in the blind spot of the enemy," he ordered, but instead of voicing it out, he gestured, as this was the method of communication the military was taught in order to communicate with each other most efficiently in multiple cases, among which the current one is one.
The soldiers were a little taken aback by how the sergeant was able to identify the scout, as they couldn't even see the watchtower. However, training with their sergeant for the last few months and seeing as how it was his strategy that was ultimately approved by the command, they had no reason to doubt him. So they did as they were told and, according to their training, calculating the position of the enemy, the soldiers in the squadron rotated in the blind spots one by one so as not to alert the enemy.
This was a very crude method of breaking in, which was very dangerous because, despite their efforts, the enemy, with the advantage of height, could still notice the inconsistencies in the surroundings and hear the rustling sounds from around. But this was the risk they had to take, since they were the regular army, who were usually not put into infiltration missions like the special forces. This is also why tunnels had to be dug, wasting a lot of resources, and they had to receive additional training on how to move to the blind spots.
Atop the watchtower, Saif was leaning against the wooden railing, which had no gaps in between apart from the one which is used to insert his gun. The sound of embers could be heard as he put several dry twigs at a time into the clay basin filled with sand within which the fire was burning. Right next to him, there was still plenty of dry wood, enough to sustain him for the whole night.
'Crack!'
Suddenly, he heard the sound of twigs crumbling. He immediately stood up cautiously and looked around the watchtower, lighting up the torch.
"Who is it!"
He yelled with a stern voice, but his heart was already shaken. He looked around, and he couldn't find anything. 'Please be an animal, please be an animal,' he kept praying in his heart, but thankfully, the sound did not appear once again.
"Inshallah," he muttered as he sat back down, continuing to bask in the bonfire.
Jvalā noticed the light dim and the shadow of the scout that appeared on the tree in front of him disappear, and let out a sigh of relief.
He carefully bent down and slowly smeared sand all over the soldier's feet, who had stepped on a dried branch. When the soldier's foot was almost covered by sand, he was asked to take out his foot. The soldier had sweat trickling down his cheek, but he did as he was told and slowly lifted up his foot, almost using his hands to lift it up slowly like a crane at the ports lifting up the containers. The sand dampened all the sound, making it impossible to echo out.
'Let's go!'
Jvalā gestured with his hand as he took one last look at the watchtower and followed along with his soldiers. 'Strange, this is not even summer, and it rained a few days ago. How come there are dried branches or twigs here?' 'Is it an alert system? How clever. Maybe if the guy wasn't too afraid, he would have caught us.' 'Then again, if he did, we would have to silence him. So maybe his cowardice actually saved him?' he kept thinking as he moved forward unhesitatingly.
---
In the meantime 𝓷ℴ𝓿𝓅𝓊𝒷.𝓬𝓸𝓂
Qom
"Ahh! The Saheb has been assassinated!"
"There are assassins in the manor!!"
Shrill screams were heard from several large manors in the city at the same time.
"Hey, what is happening!!" A young boy who was woken up by all the commotion rubbed his eyes and muttered groggily, but he was so scared when a big palm cupped his mouth, making him unable to speak. But thankfully, he relaxed—it was his father.
'Sush!'
His Father gestured with his finger, and he nodded obediently. His father quickly closed all the doors and windows, took him into his arms, and left through the back door. For some reason, they went down the well.
"Father, what are we doing?" the boy asked, panicked.
The middle-aged man could feel the son shivering in his arms. "I don't know, son. No need to worry, though. We'll be alright. You don't know, but my grandfather and your great-grandfather built the well. He had dug a cave in its wall to prepare for any danger. Come, today I will show you," he said with a comforting tone, but he himself was filled with dread, scared out of his wits, imagining what was happening in the city.
Pushing aside the overgrown weeds, the father and son soon got into a small cave only a few feet wide, enough for a few people to huddle together. Everything became silent except for the loud heartbeat of the middle-aged man and his son to be heard. In such a way, several minutes passed until sounds of gunfire and screams were heard from the surface.
"Bang!!"
"Ahhh!"
"It's the Bharatiyas. It's them who assassinated the Sahib, kill them!"
"Ah - No!!!"
"Bang!"
With every gunshot and scream, the kid shivered in his arms, burying himself deeper and deeper into his father's embrace, but the father himself was feeling his heart run wild like a racehorse.
But the next moment, both father and son were pushed psychologically to the edge when the sound of a loud and deafening explosion was heard, followed by the sound of rocks and debris falling into the water, which caused the water to blast out, causing a small stream to splash on the father and son.
"Ah!"
The father and son, who were already tensed up due to the psychological burden put on their minds with continuous gunfire and bloodcurdling screams, shrieked in fear.
"Mhhhh"
'sob!'
"Mhhhh"
'sob!'
Understanding the possible repercussions for his actions, a cold current spread through the father's spine, making his face turn white and his pupils dilate as if a jaguar had just licked his face. But the survival instincts kicked in. He quickly covered the mouth of his son, who had started to cry in fear.
He was so panicked since his son crying could make a noise, but he couldn't blame him either, since this was the most unfortunate situation his family had been through.
"Hey, Dhruva, Chandra and Veer, there was a sound over there. Go check it out."
The middle-aged man's heart dropped. He could tell that he may have been discovered, especially as the sound of footsteps coming from above was getting closer and closer.
The next moment, the light from a burning torch shone through the wall of weed blocking the cave entrance, causing him to tense his body, cupping the mouth of his son even more strongly, making his face red.
"Hey, is there someone hiding under the water?"
A man said something in a language unfamiliar to him, but he could guess that these were the soldiers of the Bharatiya Empire who had attacked the city.
"Maybe, let's see..." A burly young man hung the rifle on his back, picked up the large boulder right next to him, and dropped it into the well. The water immediately shot up into the air like a high-pressure water vein being breached. The height of the fountain reached so high that it even went a few feet above the wall of the well, making it rain on the man who had dropped the boulder.
A few chuckles and a few lighthearted insults were heard as the burly young man was all drenched. But under the well, things were not so jovial. The water splashed into the cave, this time a lot more than before. The middle-aged man immediately became desperate because, due to the force at which the water splashed, the weeds that covered the cave entrance were moved a little, opening up a gap of an inch or two.
He was so scared that if something touched him from behind, he might actually have a heart attack and die.
"Hey, there is actually someone here!"
"Tsk tsk tsk!"
"What a good place to hide."
"Come out before I empty the clip on you!"
"They can't understand the Bharatiya language, Chandra."
"Oh, right, Alpha, aren't you from the Kingdom of Persia? Come on, yell at those bastards or else warn them that we will remove their general direction even if we have to expend more of our ammunition."
The middle-aged father did not know what the soldiers above were talking about, but the next words that came out of their mouths almost made him lose his soul.
"Hey, you guys who are hiding, come out before we drop a few bombs and turn you into meat paste."
"I warn you, even your mother and father will not be able to recognise your body. You'll be blown into a million pieces, and you'll be the painting on the wall in which you are hiding."
There was a hint of joking in his tone, but the middle-aged man did not find it funny at all. He was already very desperate, being pushed into a dead end, but he was now left with no chance to live. He did not know what else he could do. But a hint of ruthlessness appeared in his eyes. He immediately took off the shirt he was wearing and tied it tightly around the mouth of his son, making him unable to speak. Not only that, the remaining garment that was left over, he tied it to his hands and feet, making him unable to move.
He looked at his son in the eyes for the last time. It was dark, so he couldn't see much, but he could tell that those small eyes were filled with reluctance, sadness, and desperation, like he had never seen before; his heart hurt. But he was left with no choice. His son was only 8 years old; he was too young to understand what was going on, so he had no hope that his son would stay still and not want to follow him, especially in the current desperate situation. If that happened, not only would he die, but he would lose his son. He could never let that happen.
There was a hint of joking in his tone, but the middle-aged man did not find it funny at all. He was already very desperate, being pushed into a dead end. But he was now left with
So even though he knew that his son would very likely die of hunger, unable to speak or move, there was nothing else he could do. He could only hope that his son would use his skills of getting out of ropes, learned when his mother tied him to the pillar whenever he misbehaved, and get out of this situation as well.
Thinking of his wife, his eyes started to tear up. He loved her very much, and that was one of the reasons he didn't marry anyone else. Even after she died, their son was the only relative left to him, and to protect him, he would even sacrifice his life.
With determination and will to fight once again igniting in his heart, he whispered into his son's ear, "Munna, I will be going to a very far away place to meet your mother. Those bad guys will take me there, but don't worry, you have to live well. I have tied you up just like your mother would."
"Though I'm not as skilled as her," he chuckled, "so it may not be able to hold you back for very long, but it's alright, you will be safe."
"Goodbye, my son."
Bidding farewell, he was about to put his hand through the wall of weed that was blocking the entrance.
To be Continued...