The next day, we went to the prison cell to give the Mongolian assassin his breakfast. He expressed his desire to try rava-idli which was a South Indian breakfast and thus we went to deliver it to him. We were surprised to see that the two British officers near him were unconscious and so were 4 others.

We then saw him trying to kill another 2 British officers and thus intervened. We reprimanded him for his behavior and told him that if we wanted to help us, he should behave properly.

He then replied: “Sir, those officers were sent by Inspector Q. He is one of the bosses at the syndicate where I work. He helps by releasing imprisoned members and killing all those who betrayed the syndicate. Sir, I will take care of myself, but please take those 2 constables to the hospital, they have fainted due to fine powdered chilies”

What I saw next really shocked me. The 4 British officers and the other 2 had the same tattoo on their wrist as some of the other assassins and this proved that they were a part of the same gang. Moreover, the spray used to attack the two British officers posted at the prison cell by me was not the officially issued pepper spray but a homemade spray made with red chili powder.

We arrested those 2 proxy officers and immediately put them on cuffs. We then stripped their insignia off and then told them what the consequences will be. They offered my team 6 million Pounds for releasing them but my team was more interested in arresting them. Having taken them to a prison cell, we gave them a chance to surrender, but their arrogance was very high, so much so to the extent that my team had to shoot them down.

I asked the Mongolian assassin if he was alright to which he replied that he was perfectly fine and that I just need to get Inspector Q off his post, as he was the final nail in the coffin. I then issued an alert on INTERPOL and waited at the police station. Inspector Q came in to the station only to reprimand the local head constable who was working with us on INTERPOL. However, I caught inspector Q and tied him up inside the other prison cell, where we wanted to extract information. He told me that the killings in the area were really high and that it was not just humans but Banshees did it too. Little did he know that not only was he going to get shot down by my team but he also ended up giving a very large hint.

Okay, so what is a banshee? A banshee is a female spirit in Scottish mythology that visits people late at night. They live by a river and generally take on appearances of any age right from young girls to elderly ladies. When we hear a banshee scream, it meant that death was near and someone was going to die.

Moreover, Banshees tend to be visible only on one of the CCTV cameras when they pass through a neighborhood.

Hearing this, my team laughed and told, “why do these criminals make things extremely complicated for themselves? Why is it so difficult to just surrender and put an end to their criminal careers which never pays at the end?”

We decided to retire to our tiny apartment. We spread out to all locations around the apartment to make sure we had all spots covered.

A local told us: “When a banshee comes, it just means death. That is how we all lost our young babies and teen children over the past few years.”

My team did a survey and we noticed a surprising fact. We saw that all those families who had their children killed by the so-called banshee consumed a lot of junk food such as chips, sweets and coke on a daily basis but it was not the case with the other normal families.

Besides, the locals also told that when they called the police, the banshee just disappeared but so did their young children who were found dead in the morning near the dumpsters.

Now, I started to suspect this gang and their modus operandi.

“A woman dressed as a banshee would visit the houses of the victims alone. When the people ran to other rooms to call the police, the woman would somehow just put the hand in and drag small children out of the window and throw them down from the height and when the police came, the officers involved in the syndicate would secretly be killing the children.”

Here is what I suspected so I told my cousin about this. He told me, to go to the grocery store and purchase each and every packet of chips, sweets, crisps and coke, and then he instructed all the officers in my team to order deep fried food items and make sure that all the oil could be knocked down with a generous amount of coke.

In earlier days, an overflowing well would indicate that a banshee was visiting its victims, but now an overflowing coke glass would indicate that my cousin was visiting his victim.

Okay, so we were awake and at around 1:00 AM in the night, we heard tapping at the window and we saw a young girl with orange-red colored hair, green eyes and an eerie grimace asking to be let in because she was hurt. She also told us that she needed a glass of water.

Well, she was no banshee, but a real woman who was working with the supposed syndicate. Then, a female officer from my team opened the window, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her inside saying: “how about some coke too ma”. Then that lady started swearing very loudly and told us: “how dare you drink coke, you think you are too good huh” and proceeded to try and attack us, only to be subdued by the female officers in my team.

We put her in handcuffs and then happened to confiscate her jammer, which would disable CCTV cameras nearby. We then told her that her gang of proxy officers were caught and killed so there was going to be no killing happening today night.

She then told: “how did you know all this? Why are you attacking us, we are doing good for the society? I did all this only to avenge the ring that trafficked me from Philippines to UK and made me work in a house forcefully, after removing my left eye. That is why I wear this green accessory over both my eyes to hide that.”

My team told her that we were from the INTERPOL and that it was our team that had taken down that gang. We also told her that we are from the Indian Police.

Hearing this she told: “Okay, if I surrender will you officers help me cure the growing infection on my eyes. It was due to my surgery being done in an unhygienic environment and I may lose my eyesight from my right eye too, since the infection from my left eye is also spreading to my right eye. If you are going to help me cure, then I will be willing to surrender and help you with the case.”

We did some basic analysis and agreed to take her assistance while my cousin made calls to an optician friend in the UK who would take care of her eye surgery. The optician friend agreed to do the surgery for free and we went the next day to the more uptown side of the city where her surgery was performed. The next day after her surgery, she was relived off of her pain and was ready to help us with the case.

She told us that there is a hospital in Springbhurn, owned by an Indian doctor. He was actually smuggled from India to the UK as a part of the same gang. However, he was a slightly older guy who had good knowledge on anatomy and organs, so he was liked by the surgeons working with the human trafficking gang. Besides, his dual nature of softness and rowdyism was liked by all the gangsters in that gang so much so that some of the important work in the gang was handled by him.

When some days had passed, he killed the surgeons and the other few traffickers, rescued the team and started working as an apprentice lab assistant in an anatomy lab in the nearby college, simultaneously finishing his medical degree. He also took away all the money that was deposited by the human trafficking organization.

He then took over the hospital when it was closing and converted it into a multi-specialty hospital that took care of sick and injured migrants and underprivileged people. However, the dark side was that everyone who came there for an organ transplant or any issues like diabetes or physical issues that probably required help from trafficked victims (organs, physical services, etc.) were put down either by euthanasia or ingestible poison. The assassin dressed as the banshee, also told that all the insulin syringes were actually euthanasia syringes and the beverages like tea and drinking-chocolate were often adulterated with poison. She also stated that the doctor’s immense spending on his so called killing projects could even give the broke billionaires an inferiority complex.

We then knew that arresting the doctor was very easy, but we needed solid evidence to trap him. He was a pretty influential person who had contacts with high rank officials around the world and it was hard to trap him so easily.

Okay, we will conclude for now. How about, we catch up in part-3, to get to the final cherry on the cake.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

My cousin and I were again transferred for an INTERPOL assignment, this time to the UK. We were asked to dismantle a deadly gang that was indulging in serial killings of young children, teenagers and fast-food workers.

Now, we were a little bit puzzled as the killing concept of the gang was pretty weird but we still decided to investigate as we suspected something much bigger. We were given a team of 20 by the Indian Government. These officers were Sub-Inspector rank officers from the Thunderbolt Commandos unit of the Kerala State Police and the Special Task Force unit of the Tamil Nadu State Police. All the men and women in this team of 20 were highly experienced in cases related to human trafficking and terrorism and had apprehended an infinite number of terrorists and human traffickers globally. A lot of syndicates and cartels around the world publicly surrendered to these officers without even a bit of resistance.

Having this team, I was sure that we could easily crack this case. The word “deadly” had lost its value when our team reached. We were transferred to a neighborhood called Possilpark in Glasgow, Scotland, UK. This was one of the most downtrodden and dangerous neighborhoods in the city and there was quite a lot of gang crime and human trafficking here.

The start of the operation started when we touched down at a restaurant in Possilpark. We went there in very simple clothes and claimed that we were Indian immigrants of the lower middle class who had come here to study university while working as apprentices in various engineering domains like high voltage electricals, HVAC systems and Fire Safety to support our tuition. We also booked an apartment that was next to a large hospital. Except for that hospital, everything else looked very bad and we did not get the same pleasant feeling that a normal tourist would get while touring UK. Anyway, that did not matter as we came for work purposes and not tourism.

We came into a restaurant and ordered some vegetable and lean meat-based dishes. We were sitting adjacent to another family where all of them were having extremely tasty fast food. Even their tiniest tot (3 years old approximately) had a plate full of French fries, chicken nuggets, fried fish and his feeding sipper contained some chilled Coke. When I saw that, I laughed and told my team as to how lucky these kids are to get such tasty food while we as children got only milk rice, kanji and kasha-yam.

Well, just as I said that, an assassin wearing a mask came with a heavy iron rod and tried to swing it on the child’s head. Luckily, I happened to bring my hand in the way and pull it off only for it to hurt my mouth. I somehow threw off the iron rod from his hand and punched the assassin multiple times thus knocking him unconscious and then putting him on handcuffs. There were a few other assassins who came in with guns, but we took our Heckler and Koch MP5’s shot down every single one as one of my team members covered the baby’s eyes with his hand to prevent the baby from being scarred by this graphic sight.

I saw that in the corner of the restaurant were two unarmed British police officers who were standing there in cover, trying to request backup from an armed unit. They must have assumed that it was a gang war. Nevertheless, after subduing all the attackers and making sure that the family was unhurt, I showed my ID card to the British police officers saying that I was working with INTERPOL to solve a case here. They were happy and relieved to hear it and told me that they are willing to help me with the case and introduced me to the armed unit too.

They decided to accompany us to the local grocery store where we wanted to purchase food items for cooking our meals. As shocking as it was, the vegetable and fruits aisle were full and untouched that we literally got a 90% discount, but when we decided to reach for a few bars of chocolate, we found the entire aisle to be empty. There were no sodas, chips, sweets, cakes, chocolates or ice-creams. The last remaining stocks had been taken by another family in the place.

We thought of leaving, but my cousin insisted that we should wait as the stocks were arriving and told that we can take some chocolates and snacks. It was actually a good thing that we waited, as a very deadly incident happened. The bulletproof vests that we were wearing experienced ammunition sooner than expected. We saw that 6 assassins had come inside and attempted to take down the family that had just lined up their items near the cashier. Besides, even a few workers and drivers who had come to deliver confectionary and fries were about to be shot down.

My team immediately finished the assassins once again but we managed to catch one of them alive. He was a Mongolian man in his early thirties and tried to fight my team. He tried to swing on one of my sub-inspectors who retaliated by punching his lower abdomen. The man screamed in pain as the sub-inspector punched him.

We took him to a police station and asked for a health checkup on the assassin. We found that he had undergone immense trauma and abuse. Moreover, the scar on his abdomen was due to having his Kidney surgically removed when he was 7 years old. When we asked him about his intentions, he told in a very creepy tone; “those type of people have no place on Earth, send them to hell as fast as possible. Especially babies, kill them before it is too late. Says my dear boss.”

He was surely a psycho and it looked like he worked for a large gang that undertook such contracts. We were initially not sure as to whether the gang executed tasks that were outsourced to them or they did it on their own. We were yet to investigate so we continued on with the investigation.

He told a story about his life. He told that when he was approximately 7 years old, he had gone to a local shop to help purchase some milk. However, he was suddenly taken into a van by force and later he remembered waking up in a hospital with excruciating pain. He was then beaten and made to work in a clothes manufacturing unit, where he worked 18 hours a day with very little meals. When he was 8 years old, he was sold as a domestic worker to a family here in Glasgow. He suffered endless abuse here too. The owners were drunkards who were unhappy with their health issues and the health issues suffered by their children and thus all anger was vented out on him.

He told: “I am really happy with my work and I really enjoy my job. I am able to reverse the pain that was inflicted on me. Moreover, my boss has a point. As long as rich kids and rich people keep having fast food and other bad habits, their health gets destroyed. Therefore, the pain is inflicted on the others who have healthier lifestyles. I prefer to keep taking out garbage”

Even though he was in pain, I took him to the police station mortuary and showed him the dead bodies of the other assassins. He said that all of them were smuggled on the same fishing trawler into the UK and sold for different purposes. There were 7 of them totally (6 dead + 1 alive). He told me: “No sir, there were actually 10 but 3 lost their lives as a bunch of bricks collapsed on them in the adjacent brick kiln where they initially worked”

I submitted these documents to INTERPOL and I was informed that there was this huge syndicate that did this human trafficking. They were shut down around 5 years ago by an Indian IPS officer working with INTERPOL. Some senior Mongolian police officers involved with this syndicate but they too were put down along with a few other big people working with the syndicate

I told him about the details and he said something quite surprising. He told me: “Sir, I always dreamt of becoming a police officer too sir. I wanted to remove the corruption in the police. However, I lost trust in the police when I saw that they were assisting the trafficking by letting vehicles pass through check-posts and by bringing the children who escaped back to the trafficking ring only for them to be hurt even more.”

He also told me: “After seeing your team sir, I have regained my trust in the police. Anyway, I have not done any killings so far, I only provided logistical support. I am willing to surrender sir, and you can provide me with a death penalty too. However, before that please let me help your team investigate with little bit of information sir.”

Hearing these words from this assassin was like music to our ears. We Indian Officers are overjoyed when a criminal voluntarily surrenders to us despite knowing that there is some penalty still awaiting. Nevertheless, he told me about that the hint will be found in the nearby hospital. Moreover, he told me that it will be a good start showing presence in the nearby fast-food restaurant close to a large departmental store.

We put the assassin in a prison cell of the police station to make things safe, but we did give some healthy nutritious food to him and some basic necessities. He did not mind, all he wanted was some healthy meals and a place to stay.

Fine, let us catch up in part-2 of chapter-1.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

Okay, I had thrashed not just one mafia but many huge ones that had thousands of sub mafias under it. Okay, there was one head don who was the final piece of the puzzle and fixing him into the slot was needed more than ever.

We got reports that the head don would be escaping to Indonesia via Changi Airport in Singapore. Now, the inspector was worried and asked me, “sir shall we prepare an INTERPOL report? We should go to Singapore or Indonesia sir”. I told the inspector not to worry.

This foolish rat wanted to go into the sewer but it had chosen a storm water chamber near a garden. It was in big trouble! Okay, so what does this mean?

Let me tell you. Basically, my cousin was landing the exact same day in Changi Airport in Singapore. He wanted to take a break and had decided to book tickets to Singapore from New York City, since he had finished attending the UNSC conference at the UN Head Quarters. The time, day and date of when my cousin would land at Singapore Changi Airport would be the same as that of when the head don would touch down in Singapore.

I had sent him all the evidence via mail and told him about it. He informed the Singapore police about the situation and they told that they would keep a watch outside the airport.

The situation was slightly different as the head don and my cousin happened to cross paths in Changi Airport. This was because, in Singapore Changi Airport the departure and arrival sections are the same. Thus, people arriving to the place and people departing generally tend to cross paths with each other.

When my cousin saw the head don, he lunged towards him and took him down. He put the head don in a chokehold and punched him many times while the head don screamed for his life. This commotion scared some passengers and it caught the attention of the Airport Security, who aimed their revolvers at my cousin asking him to surrender and drop weapons if he had any.

My cousin dropped his Glock 17 pistol and put his hands up. Just as the Airport Security picked his pistol up, they found that it had the Indian Flag on it and it was written “Indian Police Service”. When they inspected his passport, they were shocked!

They apologized sincerely and saluted my cousin. The suspect they had was none other than that courageous police officer who had helped stop major drug consignments from entering Changi Airport. They immediately pointed their revolvers at the other suspect in expensive clothes who was the head don and arrested him immediately. Just as they did that, a team of Singapore Police entered the airport and caught the head don. They bowed down to my cousin and thanked him. This head don was the same guy who would always ship drugs from Thailand to Singapore. Given the fact that one of the most wanted suspects was there in the hands of the Singapore Police, it was a great moment.

We did the formalities that very moment and given the fact that the head don was carrying a high quantity of drugs, he was sentenced to death as per the laws of Singapore. My cousin took permission to watch all the procedures till the head don was sent to the gallows.

Within a few hours, the head don was killed by the gallows and was completely gone.

When I heard the good news, I told my cousin about the entire incident. He told me that I too should come to Singapore and that we should have a good vacation for ourselves.

I was really elated and told that I would also be bringing a politician friend from Bihar on the vacation. Our politician friend decided to sponsor a great vacation for the soldier and his entire family who were setting foot in a foreign country for the first time. Besides, he also gave the police officers and the CISF officers who had cooperated with me for the investigation a few tickets and that they could also take a break when needed. They were elated and told that they would do a little more work and probably avail themselves of the offer the next month.

It was a happy moment and it was a great event before a vacation. What was like the chocolate sauce on the brownie was that countless infinite underworlds across the world once again fell after this head don was arrested. More followed as the Thailand Police arrested some dons in Thailand affiliated with this rat. The rats and the bandicoots were now flushed out of the sewer.

There will be some mouse-lets left but we the lions will swallow them like a snack.

Okay, stay tuned for more gut-wrenching stories, probably from East Asia for now.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

Yes, we had reunited the soldier with his parents and we also gave protection to his extended family members and siblings who could now stay free without the threat of the mafia.

However, the siege was not over and I discovered that in order to get to the main head of the mafia I had to clear a list. The IAS officers working there were close to my politician friends who were completely supportive of my work. They had compiled numerous amounts of evidence that I had to refer to and clear them out.

They gave me a tablet computer and a stylus and told that after destroying all the criminals against whom evidence was compiled, I had to tick the box. There were at least a hundred things but I knew that I could do it. They gave me a week’s time for this, but I was sure that with my encounter attitude, I could finish the entire list in less than 24 hours. There were influential political candidates running for high posts involved in many activities, but it was no problem as I would think only twice and not thrice before firing my gun.

I went to place after place with my team of 20 constables and 10 CISF officers and made sure that everyone involved was killed. No collateral damage and no civilian injuries. It was a pure exorcism to take out the demons.

Having taken out all of them, they gave me a challenge. If I can encounter 10 gangs at once, then they would surrender. I asked to encounter not just 10 gangs but all their 100’s of gangs at once. No doubts. I got assistance from 50 members of the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) and some members of the Uttar Pradesh State Police Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) team and contacts were made across Uttar Pradesh and Bihar to rip them out. The ACP leading the team in Bihar was none other than our childhood friend who had also retired from the Indian Army a year ago and was assisting us.

We encountered and encountered and encountered and encountered. The entire mafia along with many other smaller mafias and so many organized crime outfits were destroyed. When I catch one member of the gang, then I kill all the members of the gang, including their affiliate gang, their rival gangs, their subsidiary gangs and even the ones stationed abroad. That is the power of any law enforcement or defense agency that works honestly for justice and truth alone to triumph.

Having everyone down, the chief of the mafia was trying to escape to Indonesia via Changi Airport in Singapore. But it was not possible or was it?

I do not know. But the plot is going to take a twist so please wait and watch.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

Okay, having finished so much, my cousin and I got off our assignment. My cousin had gone to New York city for a meeting with the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) and I was at a police station in a slightly rural part of Uttar Pradesh. I enjoyed the independence and freedom and for the first time got direct credits as my cousin was not there.

I do not want to describe everything because it was the usual cleaning work. Given a high number of sexual crimes, I enjoyed dragging perpetrators to the backyard of my police station and doing an encounter because as always, 70 is better than 2. I mean, 3 bullets each worth 70 rupees ($1 USD) is better than keeping these things in prison and spending 2 Lakhs a month ($3000) and feeding them biryani in AC rooms while the villagers nearby ate simple food working under the hot Sun.

Okay, I will spare you the details and get to the real case.

It was a typical afternoon when I was about to have lunch. Just as I opened my lunch packet the inspector working under me came with a serious face. He yelled in panic “Sir, please help. I need to register this FIR and I cannot”. I made him calm down and asked him to explain what happened.

He told me a story that made my blood boil. It boiled more than the electrolyte inside the faulty inverter batteries that powered the police station.

• “Sir, there was a soldier. He has served missions in Somalia, Sudan, Iraq and Congo. His parents are captured by the land mafia that also does all other illegal work. They are involved in organized global crime too sir.”

There was no need for me to say anything and I knew that if my hand did not do the job, then my gun would. Just as I was about to leave the police station, I saw a young soldier running towards the police station and just as he saw me, he shouted “Sir, I will die, I will die, they will kill me”.

I held his hand with my left hand and I immediately withdrew my Glock 19 pistol and when those masked 12 men chasing the soldier came to the police station gate, I encountered them immediately with help from a constable who fired 2 bullets from an AK-47.

The scene was calm now and I decided to allow the soldier to stay with me in the police station and had him explain the story from his side. Seeing me, he sighed with relief and exclaimed “ACP sir, I am a fan of you sir. I have heard about you and your cousin from the seniors of the Indian Army”. He then explained the story from his side and gave the details of the land mafia. He then told me “Sir, for my exceptional service, I was given this one plot of 60 X 80 feet land. However, despite the proper paperwork, the land mafia here is claiming that it is theirs. They have captured my family and are threatening to kill us if we do not surrender the land for free!” I told him not to worry and told him that I would not only ensure his safety but also ensure his family reunites with him unhurt and the land would be all his, and then the mafia members would now be a part of the land they desperately wished to own. “Basically, I mean that since the mafia loved soil so much, I would bury them in the same soil till their bodies disintegrated and broke down thus integrating themselves with the soil”

The first step was to paint the first mafia member’s house red and I went with a team of 15 constables all armed with INSAS and AK-47 rifles to the house. I too decided to keep an AK-47 with 6 cartridges and the 7^th one in my gun. Just as I went near the gate, the goons asked me, “What you want police? Money, Biryani, Car? What?” I was quiet and responded with my rifle. Just as some 30 goons came over shot them all. I went inside shot another 10 and had one of the members in my hand. I told him to surrender.

He just laughed and told that he would be in jail for 2 days after which he would come out. I told him to call his goons if needed and he did, wishing to scare me off like he scared away the previous investigation officers. When the 200+ goons surrounded the place, I shot at all of them with the help of my constables. We also had a few Bren Light Machine Guns (LMG) that had put them all down. I asked him to reveal all the information which I noted down and appreciated him for that. He suddenly told “See police, I won’t go into prison so easily”. I told him “I never wanted to imprison you” and using a Sterling Sub Machine Gun (SMG) that my constable had, I shot him in the head.

I confiscated his four empty houses in the area and handed it over to the government. I told the soldier that till the work was done he would stay in the police station only. I let him sleep comfortably in my cabinet and out of the 8 Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) officers who offered me protection, I had stationed 4 of the CISF officers right next to the Soldier boy and made sure he felt comfortable.

Then I got a tip off about screams coming from an abandoned mansion which was supposedly haunted. A local villager told me “Sir there is Chudail (Witch). Sir there is Bhoot (Ghost). Sir they will kill you. I immediately ran to the mansion with my team again. This time, I had a Bren LMG and an AK-47 and an INSAS. I was trained as a part of larger missions to carry 3 guns at a time with 2 pistols.

My constables saw that and replicated the same. In no time, we had emptied the mansion that contained many ghosts (the mafia members and goons) and brought out a couple. When I discovered that they were the soldier’s parents, I took them into the car and took them to the police station. It was a relief over the family reunion and the soldier boy thanked me for it and was ready to give me whatever I needed. I just smiled and told that all I needed was for them to stay in the police station for some more time and after taking down the full mafia, we would let them go back.

Okay, let us catch up in part 2 where we turn the tables as usual.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

Okay, the situation had eased. The hostages had returned home safely and had been admitted to secured hospitals for psychological help. All schools had been secured by the Indian Forces and there was no problem. It was day 4.

What was remaining however was a surgical strike. We had to undertake this surgical strike by infiltrating into the rebels’ basecamp and give them a good surprise! We entered their basecamp in the desert and took vantage positions. This was going to be easy because there was nowhere to hide for these rebels, while we could hide in our desert ghillie suits. There was intense heat, but the heat was not as high as the heat inside our heads. We were ready to do anything, as long as it meant attacking these rebels.

A rebel car came, lead by an off-road jeep. We had laid an explosion belt that we could detonate at our will and kept in position. We were a team of 21 again = 20 CRPF officers + Myself. When the rebel BMW car came on our explosive belt, we detonated it thus blowing the car up. The other jeep had 3 rebels who came outside swinging their AK-47 Assault Rifles looking at where they could fire. We put those 3 down with shots from our AK-203 rifles and ran towards the BMW. There were 6 top commanders of the rebel group and the 2 chiefs. We took a lot of pleasure in surrounding the 8 high value targets and shooting them with 3 bullets each = 2 in the chest and 1 in the head.

Just as we finished killing all, I was suddenly shot in my arm. I looked to the side and saw that another rebel truck was firing on us. My team ran in full speed, retaking vantage positions to retaliate. I called on my satellite phone for backup and suddenly became concerned as my cousin did not answer. I called a Major of the Indian Army who told that reinforcements would be sent to our location. We retaliated as much as possible and kept ourselves strong. A truck carrying 100 Soldiers of the Indian Army had come to help. Armed with Sig Sauer 716 Assault Rifles and AK-203 Assault Rifles, they fired on the attacker rebels and we were able to take down the attackers. We raided the camp and rescued a lot of hostages and suddenly I heard a familiar voice stating “Well done boy, mission accomplished”. It was my cousin!

I asked him as to how did he get there. He told me that he had volunteered and gotten himself kidnapped and kept as a hostage in the basecamp of the rebels. He studied their movements for the 2 days and had given information to the rebels. He knew about our arrival and deliberately diverted the 8 high value targets towards our side so that they would directly fall into our trap. The team was really elated at my cousin’s courage and told that they were really proud to have him as a commander for the police and paramilitary forces. Even the Indian Army officials were happy to have a person like my cousin in the police force. Be it dealing with terrorists or organized crime, always my cousin wins the battle.

My cousin just smiled and told that, he was trained by the Indian Army officers. When asked as to who trained him, he replied; “When I was in captivity here, Colonel Hoshiar Singh Dahiya always kept me calm. Besides, officers of the Indian Army like Major Somnath Sharma and Brigadier Mohammad Usman also told me that I would be fine. Therefore I survived.” I too told that I was guided by the Indian Army officers too. Havildar Abdul Hamid and Lieutenant Arun Khetarpal had come in my dream the previous night and told me about the strategy. Having been guided by the soldiers of the Indian Army, my cousin and I were able to take down a huge terror group bringing peace in Congo. All the four officers of the Indian Army were martyred during clashes at the Indo-Pakistani border. I request you to read about them.

This was an amazing experience for us having cleared multiple insurgent groups. I feel happy that so many dangerous groups have been taken down and I am really happy to serve in the Indian Police. No matter which Indian Force you belong to, our martyred personnel are always there looking after you. No matter where ever you are, the martyred personnel of the Indian Forces will look after you and will pull you out of any danger.

A soldier never dies. Just because they are martyred does not mean they die. They continue doing their duty, without arms. Their spirits patrol the area and assist the living personnel by telling them enemy plans and strategies.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

HOWEVER, THE NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE SOLDIERS ARE REAL AND I REQUEST YOU TO FIND OUT ABOUT THEM VIA THE INTERNET.

Having taken down insurgents in the deadliest insurgent hotspots across the country, we were really happy and wished for more work. Having very less insurgents to take down in our own country, as insurgency had paused for some time I guess, we were sent to Congo to undertake a mission with the Indian Forces of the UN Peacekeeping Force. Some rebels were harassing the people and we had to tell them to stop it.

Telling them was not that simple. We had to tell them in their language. The only language they understood was that of guns and grenades. Being experts in that language, we decided to do the talking.

We reached there and were requested to wait for sometime in the basecamp of the Indian Army. We decided to take an afternoon nap and fell asleep. Suddenly, a man with moustache appeared and told, “Stay very cool, they may mock you, but use your bayonet, do not take the risk and fire the gun”. This man was none other than Captain Gurbachan Singh Salaria of the Indian Army. In the year 1961, when rebels had blocked a road to the airport in Congo, Captain Gurbachan Singh Salaria’s team which was assigned to the spot as a part of the UN Peacekeeping Forces was dispatched there to clear the road. However, the Indian Army had lower quality rifles that prevented them from taking a face to face fight with these rebels who had automatic rifles. However, it was no problem as courage wins everything. Captain Gurbachan Singh Salaria single-handedly drew his Khukri, a dagger used by the soldiers of the Gurkha Regiment of the Indian Army and sliced 40 rebels before fatally being shot. Captain Gurbachan Singh Salaria sadly lost his life, but not before showing the rebels that the courage of the Indian Army is more than enough to defeat them in the battle. It is thanks to him that the siege was ended immediately. 

I woke up and saw that it was 5:00 PM in the afternoon. I decided to help myself to a glass of coffee and got a call on the satellite phone. A member of the Congo Army told “Indian Forces to assist. The school is under terror attack.” What had happened was that there was a football match going on between 2 teams of high school students in the school ground, when rebels attacked the location and held them hostage. had I immediately alerted a team of the Indian Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) and told them to help me attack the rebels. We got into our armored vehicles and rushed towards the school. I had a team of 20 CRPF officials, 10 men + 10 women. Just as our convoy was going, a team of rebels were on a Chevrolet Silverado truck and had put up a roadblock. They gave us mocking stares and laughed at us, holding grenade launchers and RPG’s. They had put the roadblock hoping to scare us. I got out and gave them a single stare and they went even more crazy. They told “Hey India Police, you doing what? No gun you not having we having”. The moment they told this, I drew my Bayonet and slit their throats and took down all 6 of them! They thought that they could get away with mocking us but it was not possible.

My cousin told that a team of Indian Army and additional forces will be reinforcing. I told him about the rebel blockades and told him about my passage. He told “Good kid” and told me to proceed.

When our armored vehicle came to the school we were met with intense gunfire. There was no problem at all in this case, as the rebels’ stupid MMG’s and HMG’s were no match to my IWI Negev LMG. We took down the ground level attackers and then stepped back. The rebels had held students as hostages inside and on one side, there was the danger of students’ lives and on the other side the parents were crying, begging us to rescue their children. Seeing the look of sadness on the parents’ faces, my cousin told me “Permission granted kid, Snipe them out”.

I withdrew my Barrett M95 Sniper Rifle and aimed it at the attackers. All the CRPF officials in my team aimed their Barrett M95 Sniper Rifles too. We locked targets on the 30 rebels inside the building and took out 21 of those overacting fools. The other members of the Indian Forces took down another nine. A team of those stupid reinforcements came for these rebels and they were taken down by the Indian and Congolese Forces. The problem with these stupid rats (rebels) is that they are used to handling smaller creatures and showing themselves as strong. That is, they enjoy harassing a group of unarmed civilians and show that they are great. When face to face with lions and tigers, they put up this fake illusion of superiority trying to hold their ground, but they cannot.

We ended this hostage situation and all the children were reunited with their parents very soon. Nobody was injured but many rebels who acted like they owned the city were taken down. Okay, that was fine so in order to show these rebels who is boss, we have to use the same tactics as them and that is to flush these rats out of the sewer. That is none other than a surgical strike.

Besides, it is thanks to Captain Gurbachan Singh Salaria’s guidance that I was able to show some action to the rebels and carefully take them down. Had I attempted to take my gun out, they would have fired a grenade that would have resulted in injuries to the entire convoy. Since I got close to the rebels and tried to attack them with a bayonet they could not take the risk and fire their grenade launchers thus giving me an upper hand

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

HOWEVER, THE NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE SOLDIERS ARE REAL AND I REQUEST YOU TO FIND OUT ABOUT THEM VIA THE INTERNET.

Okay, skipping the things that happened in New Delhi, we were immediately transferred to Hyderabad city in India. We would constantly run around the Red Corridor, smashing rebellion.

The Red Corridor in India is a region with high income inequality and adverse ironies. Poor tribal people live in shacks live next to large billionaires. Failing cultivation lands are filled with a lot of important minerals. This has given rise to massive rebellion which is a huge threat to our internal security. Their activity had massively decreased, but we wanted to do our part in taking them out and maintaining the gap between 99.99 and 00.01 as wide as possible.

The greatest source of revenue to these rebels in the Red Corridor is the sale of illegal narcotics, which are grown and distributed by people who work on behalf of the rebels. When we reached Hyderabad, we teamed up with a team of the Indian Narcotics Control Bureau (NCB) and had a lot of drug peddlers and distributors arrested within two days. We teamed up with police forces across all these states and had every single drug dealer arrested. Even though some did not work on the behalf of the rebels, it did not mean that they could continue their work.

A week passed by after which all drug distributers and dealers and all who were found guilty of funding these rebels across all the states were arrested. This goal was accomplished as the senior officers who handled the case with Paramilitary and Police Forces were asked to report directly to my cousin, who was leading the operation. This way, nobody could fool around or there would be severe consequences.

Just as we moved to Chhattisgarh State, we got a miscellaneous call stating that a fat sheep would be killed in this area. My cousin got the message and immediately circulated it to all the teams and asked me to check the coordinates on the GPS. When I inspected the coordinates, I saw that there was a railway line which passed through the area. I immediately called the station master of the nearest railway station and asked him which all trains would pass by on those tracks.

He told me that all general trains are stationary and they were waiting for the Humsafar Express to pass through. The Humsafar Express is a luxury train that is preferred by wealthy travelers for its luxury. It hit me like a brick, I could finally comprehend what these rebels meant. I called up the station master once again and told him not let the train pass. He told me that he would obey my orders and had the signal set to red to stop the train. I reported this to my cousin immediately. He immediately informed the Inspector General from Chhattisgarh, requesting him grant us permission for climbing the train. My cousin sent me on board with the Humsafar Express with a team of 6 Greyhounds Commandos and another 6 Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF). Our convoy was armed with AK-203 Assault Rifles and Heckler and Koch MP5 Sub-Machine-Guns.

Just as the Humsafar Express continued, we found multiple branches laid on the track. The locomotive pilot asked me as to what happened, I knew that we were in the trap and we had to fight our way out. I signaled to my team to get ready for an encounter. Suddenly, just as the train doors were forced open and the rebels stormed in and before they could fire, they were hit by my team who fired accurately. The first forty attackers were put down and a reinforcement of another 140 were taken down too. Later, we helped in clearing the branches and escorted the train forward.

Another twenty came with an intention to take a stroll and were put down with least problems. We locked the doors again and escorted the train till it went till Betul in Madhya Pradesh. Our convoy got off the train as the volatile parts of the Red Corridor were crossed successfully. We got into a train to Chhattisgarh and my cousin told me; “time to take a trek kid, we will go hunt down some fools”. We ventured into the jungles and crawled on a branch which was on top of a river. My cousin was a professional swimmer and took his team from under water. I crawled with my team on the branch to give them a surprise attack. Just as the rebels tried to retaliate, my cousin’s team shot them and proceeded forward to attack their major bases. We took down multiple rebels only to know that reinforcements were coming for the rebels. We called for assistance and told that given the rebel reinforcements, a team of the Indian Army would be coming to the location. We fell asleep, only to see a person in camouflage come and tell us, “Do not worry about their reinforcements, escape from the South side, it is safer there. Send the reinforcement team to the North side.” All of us suddenly woke up and ran to the South side. A team of the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) was on routine patrol and immediately called for a bus to pick all of us up. However, we all decided to reinforce the Indian Army convoy that reached the location and thus took down multiple insurgents. We were all happy and proceeded to the other parts of the Red Corridor and took down a lot of rebels.

I will not be able to cover the entire experience in this one part of the story but all I can say that the actions of our team left a permanent footprint in the place and definitely acted as a deterrent for all rebels who thought they could do what they wanted. Our team also distributed solar lights and other basic necessities to the tribal people and a team of agriculture experts taught the tribal people basic farming techniques. We had our billionaire friends and politician friends who made sure that the tribal people and armed forces got whatever they needed and wanted but the rebels were not even given the most basic facilities. Poverty was high in the region and this led people to undertake recruitment in rebel groups. Helping the poverty-stricken people by giving them basic facilities and making their voices heard in the globalized world would really help reduce terrorism. Terrorism is not just fought with guns and grenades, but by taking down bad ideologies and providing education which can train the minds of people to think of ideas other than crime and terrorism.

Now, as to who was the man in the camouflage uniform, it was none other than Inspector K Prasad Babu, who was a member of the Greyhounds Special Unit that battled insurgency in the Red Corridor, particularly in the states of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana. Inspector K Prasad Babu, sadly lost his life while protecting his fellow commandos, enabling 4 of them to escape before the rebels could catch them. I am really thankful to Inspector K Prasad Babu. If it were not for him, I would have been killed by the rebels and would not be alive today to tell you this entire experience.

Now that our work in the Red Corridor was over, we decided to take up other challenging assignment probably in a different country. Let us catch up in Chapter-2 where we go somewhere else.

Okay, before we conclude let us answer the question everyone wanted to know. The man in the camouflage was not a soldier from the Indian Army or our team. It was Inspector K Prasad Babu of the Greyhounds Special Forces unit of the Telangana State Police, who was martyred fighting rebels in the Telangana-Chhattisgarh border. He sacrificed his life while distracting the rebels so that his team could escape to safety. He came in our dream to warn us about the attack and we escaped. It is thanks to him that I too am alive today to narrate this story to you.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

HOWEVER, THE NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE SOLDIERS ARE REAL AND I REQUEST YOU TO FIND OUT ABOUT THEM VIA THE INTERNET.

Having foiled two infiltrations, our team was now sent on an encounter mission. Basically, a few insurgents were happily camping, having set their camps in Baramulla, Kashmir. We just wanted to join them in camping. We wanted to welcome some more insurgents along with those insurgents, as they were planning a massive attack in the region. Indian people are very hospitable and we treat our guests like they are God. We make our guests feel home and communicate with them in their own language, which is a very important part of our culture.

I am an Indian and I work with for the Indian Police. Do not get me wrong, I was not trying to welcome them at any cost. Instead, I wanted to say hello in my language, which was, to take them down with an explosive and a few rounds of ammunition. The insurgents who were coming from an underground forest tunnel were going to be given a welcome meal, which was made out of ammunition and grenades.

Okay, since you got the point let us elaborate our procedure. My cousin commanded one team of the Jammu and Kashmir State Police while I commanded the Second team. The Indian Army was right around the corner, and a few Ghatak Commandos were camouflaged in the background with Ghillie Suits. The cold morning, made it ideal for a Ghillie Suit to act as a uniform.

Just as one terrorist came outside to start cooking some Rogan Josh (a Kashmiri delicacy comprising rice and goat meat), that foolish goat was crushed to ground meat by my team. I fired a 5.56 mm from my FN SCAR L rifle and hit him in his head. The other terrorists were alerted and withdrew their RPG-7 and Dragonov Sniper Rifles, but my cousin’s team armed with HK PSG 1 Sniper Rifles popped every single head that wielded an RPG. The Sniper teams of the insurgents tried to lock positions, but my team suddenly came face to face and we asked “where are you looking, we are here”.

Just as they suddenly dropped their Dragonov Sniper Rifles to withdraw their AK-47, our team armed with FN SCAR L and HK MP5 and M4 Carbines shot them very fast and declared the post clear after 8 minutes of intense pressure.

Now, we had to occupy the tents, and as per intelligence reports, a few rats would be coming from this side, sorry; I meant insurgents. The rattrap was set.

We fell asleep due to our lack of sleep for the past 2 days. Annoyed at this impulse, we decided to obey our bodies and sleep, till we heard the rats burrowing. Suddenly, we saw a man in uniform come to us. He told us “They will not come here as they are planning to hit the ITBP convoy behind you from the other side. Stop them”. It was none other than Captain Vikram Batra, who was martyred during the Kargil War of 1999. He was the lion of the team that had been posted there and thus had captured many bunkers of the Pakistan Army. He was feared by the Pakistan Army and gave an appropriate answer to every single question that they asked. The Pakistan Army would come and make silly demands, and Captain Vikram Batra would shoot them and liberate the area off of Pakistani soldiers.

Knowing that Captain Vikram Batra could not be wrong, we decided to crawl into the insurgents’ tunnel and emerged slowly on the other side, only to see some insurgents fixing a few huge rocket launchers. These were meant to attack our important installations which were right around the corner. My cousin told my team to fire on them carefully while his team fixed Sniper Rifles to shoot the enemy inside enemy territory itself. It was like an unplanned surgical strike.

Both the police teams started firing, while my cousin summoned the Army contingent and a contingent of the Indo Tibet Border Police (ITBP) which were stationed nearby. Everyone came to the other side and brutally attacked the insurgents and captured all their weapons. We suddenly started receiving fire from a post of the Pakistani Army, and my cousin yelled “Do not retaliate, there will be sanctions”. We did our best to avoid their fire and successfully captured all their weapons and equipment. They had fallen into their own trap and thus their plans were foiled.

A few Pakistani drones came, only to be shot by the Indian Army Personnel. This was no different. It always happens.

We decided to search the forest and found a lot of terrorists camping. They were shocked to see us Indian Forces walking around and before they could react, we shot them. We cleared many of those camps and when all search parties declared it clear, our team was told to withdraw from Baramulla.  However, we were quite tired and just fell asleep around afternoon. My cousin and I went to a tent and slept there. Just as we slept, a soldier came in our dreams, he told us “Please do not leave, please capture those bunkers.” Then we suddenly woke up to the sound of our satellite phone stating, “senior police officers, please withdraw, heavily armed terrorists coming”. This soldier was none other than Captain Manoj Kumar Pandey of the Indian Army. He too was martyred in the Kargil War of 1999 but before losing his life, he captured many bunkers of the Pakistan Army. He took care of his team like they were his own children and their safety was his priority till he was alive.

The Inspector General gave an order to me saying “Please withdraw both of you, it is risky”. I replied “Sir, please allow us to stay. There is no such thing as risk. We selected our Khaki (police uniform) only after knowing the consequences. Our higher posts just imply that we should carry a higher number of weapons and take care of the junior officers. I am not withdrawing sir” after which I switched off the satellite phone to prevent distracting orders.

We saw a lot of insurgents advancing through the jungles and I used three guns; IWI Negev LMG, FN M249 LMG and an FN SCAR L Rifle to help us fight. A constable from the team ordered some HMG and MMG mounted trucks to come into the forest. We had all the luxuries which was more than enough.

My cousin and I and 4 other constables fixed 8 MMG’s on the truck and fixed a Multi-Grenade-Launcher on top of every MMG.  My cousin drove the truck like a maniac off road driver while I sprayed bullets on every insurgent that came through. Unlike normal military and police operations where the seniors stay behind and Jawans and constables fight, my cousin did the opposite, where he made all of us senior officers fight at front lines while other junior officers fought from vantage positions. We almost crossed 1 Kilometer into Pakistan territory and fired on all the launchpads of the terrorists, doing our second informal surgical strike.

After having cleared n number of launchpads, where (n = not defined), we finally did one last search and withdrew. In the extreme happiness, I suddenly realized that a bullet had hit me in my leg. I immediately asked an Army doctor for an Anti-Tetanus-Shot after which I bandaged the wound. All soldiers were happy with me and the Army Major appreciated us for our work.

However, my cousin was quite sad. When asked as to what concerned him, he told “Just ten kilometers away is the Pakistan Army Base.” If we can fire 4 rockets worth $600 USD and fire bullets worth $400 USD, it will still be much lesser than the monthly expenditure of $2000 USD for every terrorist prisoner. We could take down the source of the terrorists by hitting them where it hurts the most. However, the major requested my cousin not to feel bad about all this and that he had done his part in taking out a major heap of garbage.

We had to return back to New Delhi, as we had stayed for more than three months in Kashmir. We decided that the reason for our visit to Delhi was to stay for just one day after which we wanted our transfer to an insurgent hotspot in the Red Corridor. We wanted our deployment in the deadliest insurgent hotspot where we could do maximum work in the least amount of time.

On our way to Srinagar from Baramulla, we slept happily in the newly assigned BEML Gaur Armored Vehicle and slept happily. When we slept, Captain Manoj Kumar Pandey came and told us, “Both of you are amazing. Despite orders being given to withdraw, you still stayed and foiled the attempt. Very great effort team. All the best for future operations.”

When we reached Srinagar Airport and got out of the armored vehicle to board our flight back to New Delhi.

Okay, let us catch up in Chapter-2 (Part-1) where we get our transfer to the Red Corridor. We will make things fine there.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

HOWEVER, THE NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE SOLDIERS ARE REAL AND I REQUEST YOU TO FIND OUT ABOUT THEM VIA THE INTERNET.

We got our posting in Kashmir State. It is a hotspot for insurgency and rebel groups operate in the state like they own it. Despite a lower number of active violent rebels there is a lot of rioting and stone pelting that results in significant number of casualties. My cousin always believed that we should not just get hit by the stones, but turn all stones to battle insurgency in Kashmir.

The start to our assignment was to choke terror funding. The most important thing for any activity, legal or illegal is funding. Nobody works for free unless it is an NGO or a Charity. Thus, choking terror funding was very important and we started of with blowing up drug cartels. A lot of terrorism activity is funded by drug distribution and thus we decided to mercilessly blow up all drug dealers and drug peddlers. All drug dealers were either encountered or arrested and thus we took them down. A lot of fraud organisations collected donations and gave them to terrorists in Kashmir, and almost 200 organisations were caught and shut down. We recovered money in billions of USD dollars and sent them to the Contingency Fund of India for appropriate handling.

All payments and transportations were being monitored and any illicit activities were immediately stopped. This was done within a span of two days with intense coordination and cooperation of our team.

Orders came very soon for our team to be posted at the Line Of Control (LOC) where we had to assist the Border Security Force (BSF) to prevent infiltration from the Pakistani side of the border. There were a huge team of terrorists trying to barge past the Line of Control (LOC). They could come from any part so we had to take a weird vantage position to counter them.

We were posted on a hill at the border. It was a relatively cold afternoon with the Sun shining on us. We were made into a Thermocouple Junction feeling hot on one side and cold on the other. This made us sleep. Just as we slept, an officer came in our dreams. It was none other than Captain Anuj Nayyar of the Indian Army, who told “they are coming boy, grab the rocket launcher and shoot them”. Hearing this, I woke up immediately, grabbed the Carl Gustaf rocket launcher and aimed the scope. I saw a few trucks advancing towards the post, I aimed my rocket launcher and fired, thus blowing up all 10 trucks. My cousin woke up suddenly and he asked “Are you awake? Are you okay, why did you fire a rocket? Something is wrong.” I told him “there were a few terrorist trucks in the distance and I had to fire on them”. Just as he was about to tell something, he suddenly got a message on the Walkie-Talkie which stated, “Sir, Infiltrators from this side. Hearing this he told me “You are right man, take your team and fire that side”. Everyone woke up to the commotion and started firing in the right direction. Nobody was caught off-guard. It was as if orders were given in the sleep, and thus we successfully took down many infiltrators and were so efficient that the infiltrators were killed  two kilometres from the Indian posts. Within a span of ten minutes, a lot of infiltrators were killed. We were a little shocked about the action but we knew that Captain Anuj Nayyar warned us about everything. Captain Anuj Nayyar was a war hero who was martyred during the Kargil War of 1999 when he was hit by a rocket of the RPG-7, fired by the Pakistani Army. This explained why, he asked me to fire the Rocket Launcher first.

We slept again only to be visited by a man with a moustache wearing an Indian Army uniform. He told, “They are coming up the hill, they have trekked up. Fight them”. We again woke up and reacted the same way, and spontaneously took down infiltrators who thought that they could barge past the post. Some of us shot the infiltrators and some of us came face to face with the infiltrators. I was face to face with an infiltrator and I punched him very hard. I started fist fighting with him and punched him so hard that his eyes were deformed and he was bleeding from his nose and teeth. I continued punching him and suddenly my team ended up beating him up mercilessly and we all scratched him all over the body with our bayonets. We finally killed him and thus declared the post clear. Everyone wanted to torture him, but my cousin ended up shooting him in the head and kicking his body downhill as he did not want to be questioned by the Human Rights Watch. Not that it mattered to us, but it would be boring and a waste of time. This again explains the situation. In the Kargil War of 1999, Captain Saurabh Kalia led his team during patrol and was attacked by the infiltrators. He was brutally tortured by the Pakistani forces and it was a very disheartening situation for us. Thus, we felt the momentum to torture that infiltrator when it was indicated that he was the head of the team assigned for infiltration.

Let us see the next part, Part-3 where we are assisted by some more heroes and we become successful in the situation.

THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY THAT HAS NO RELATION TO ANY REAL EVENTS. ANY RESEMBLENCE BETWEEN ANY CHARACTERS IN THE STORY TO THAT IN REAL LIFE IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL AND UNINTENDED.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO INSULT OR GLORIFY ANY COUNTRY OR STATE NOR DOES IT HAVE ANY INTENTION TO ASSOCIATE ANY COUNTRY WITH TERRORISM AND/OR CRIME.

THIS STORY HAS NO INTENTION TO PROMOTE VIOLENCE OR HIGHLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDINGS OR FIGHTS BETWEEN COUNTRIES, STATES AND ETHNICITIES.

HOWEVER, THE NAMES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE SOLDIERS ARE REAL AND I REQUEST YOU TO FIND OUT ABOUT THEM VIA THE INTERNET.