The army suspected that weapons were hidden somewhere on that rugged mountain—there were only two plausible reasons why anyone would have come there. Either, during some old infiltration, arms had been stashed away for their comrades to use in an emergency. Or, someone from the local area had helped smuggle those weapons in. After all, who would know those steep, inaccessible hills better than the locals?

The drone footage left no doubt—they were right there. And those men could only be there for two reasons: either to use those weapons to inflict a major blow inside the country, or to flee back across the border. In either case, these six terrorists were a red alert for the army.

Sangram was determined not to let them escape. He insisted on moving the mission forward. But without orders from the high command, he was powerless—discipline was the army’s core, and no one was allowed to act on their own whims.

Meanwhile, when the commandos received the summons from Subedar Upadhyay, they knew Sangram was handpicking his team for the mission. It was clear that the Special Forces would be deployed. Orders could arrive any moment, and everyone knew Sangram’s plans never failed.

At midnight, Sangram stood before his men, lined up in sharp, alert formation. Their faces were like storm clouds—stern, fierce, and unyielding. For a soldier, this was the moment he lived for—the burning desire to lay down everything for Mother India.

Sangram had chosen a dozen men, split into two teams of six. He would lead the first team himself. The second team was under the command of his junior, Captain Ashutosh Chakravarti.

According to the plan, Sangram’s team would confront the terrorists head-on. His squad included Naveen Kumar Pandey, Rohit Barnwal, Akash Chaudhary, Ajmal Khan, and Harvinder Singh. Captain Ashutosh’s team was the support group, comprising B. Joseph, Atul Kumar, Niranjan Sharma, Ishan Mishra, and Ashok Singh.

Another team, led by Captain Ravi Kumar Verma, was kept on standby.

Every detail of the counter-operation had been dissected, analyzed, and etched into their minds. The passion on their faces burned like wildfire, awaiting the orders.

As night surrendered to dawn, the orders arrived for the 9th Battalion of the Parachute Regiment commandos—search and destroy.

The message was clear—the situation was grave. The intel revealed these infiltrators were no ordinary terrorists; their plan was precise, deep-rooted. Something big was about to unfold.

They had to stop them at all costs.

Within minutes, both teams were ready to move out from the army base.

---

Elsewhere, Nandini had just reached school and was mingling with her fellow teachers in the staff room when the vibration on her shoulder startled her—her bag’s phone was ringing. She had forgotten to put it on silent.

She glanced at the screen—it was a video call from Naveen, something he did often before heading on missions. Nothing unusual.

Nandini was used to it by now. She already knew what he would say without him saying it—“Phone will be off for some days. Important work.”

His “important work” was always a military operation with an uncertain duration.

Taking a deep breath and donning a resolute smile, she answered the call.

The screen was shaking violently. Naveen’s half-visible face flickered in and out, blurred and fragmented—perhaps due to weak signal.

“Phone off... will stay... Di…di… work…” came Naveen’s broken voice. Understanding every syllable, Nandini nodded silently.

Naveen couldn’t see her clearly either.

“Take care… Navi…” her voice reached him, crackling over the patchy connection.

“I’ll call... back... soon,” he managed to say.

Despite the distorted connection, their words linked them, conveying their meaning with quiet urgency.

Such sudden video calls were routine for the siblings—soldier and sister—where much was left unsaid, yet everything understood. It was the soldier’s way of telling his family he was about to fulfill his duty.

But that day, a strange unease clung to them both, masked beneath their smiles. The silent fear that maybe, just maybe, this might be the last time they saw each other’s faces.

That thought made Nandini jerk her head sharply, forcing herself to focus on Naveen’s smiling face—even if still blurred and distant.

Then, a small wave of his hand—the sign for goodbye—and the call ended.

For a long moment, she stared blankly at the black screen.

Her vision blurred, and tears welled up. Her breath caught. Her chest tightened.

Suddenly, she sank onto a chair.

“Nandini Ma’am! Are you alright?” a colleague teacher asked, noticing the sudden change in her complexion.

Nandini nodded faintly, unsure herself what had just happened.

The teacher quickly fetched water, and after a sip, Nandini felt a bit better.

“What happened?” the teacher asked, concerned.

“Maybe... the heat,” Nandini whispered.

“Please take care,” came the gentle reply.

“I’m fine... class is about to start,” she said, pushing away the dark thoughts, and rose to head to her classroom.

She buried herself in her students, though her heart remained restless—a first for her.

“Sangram sir will take care of him... like always,” she murmured, pressing a hand to her chest.

She trusted Sangram with Naveen’s safety. For others, Naveen was a fierce commando; for Nandini, he was her little brother—her son she had raised.

Meanwhile, the two para-commando teams had boarded their helicopters, heading toward the operation zone.

They didn’t usually operate in daylight, but the urgency was unmistakable.

How fragile the situation was was evident by the Indian Navy’s special forces, MARCOS, already ordered to patrol the river bordering the mountain range to prevent any escape.

Failure to stop them meant a huge blow to the nation, endangering countless innocent lives.

Naveen gazed down from the helicopter, the snow-clad mountains below shining like a vast white blanket. This was Kashmir’s part that mostly remained frozen under snow.

Soon, both helicopters hovered just above a ridge and then landed a few feet from the ground.

The roar of the helicopters shattered the valley’s silence. The commandos knew their element of surprise was lost. The terrorists hiding in these snowy forests had surely sensed their arrival and would be ready.

But these commandos were ready for anything.

Sangram’s team disembarked first, one by one onto the mountain. A short distance behind, Captain Ashutosh’s team followed.

The helicopters lifted off and vanished from sight.

Now spread out on the mountain, Sangram’s team took point, with Ashutosh’s squad trailing at a set distance, moving like a pack of hunting wolves.

Two commandos led the way, eyes and ears sharp.

Naveen and Rohit advanced cautiously, rifles aimed, scanning the trees.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught their attention near the trees ahead.

Both froze. Naveen raised a silent hand and signaled back to Sangram: “Three hundred meters ahead... someone’s there. Sitting beneath a tree.”

Sangram motioned for the trailing team to halt.

Both teams stood frozen exactly where they were.