Rally Towards Kohna-e-Zarabad

2:00 AM

As darkness draped over the Bazaar-e-Zarabad, the shimmering lights from lanterns and fires made the sprawling marketplace appear almost surreal. The chill of the night descended, causing the weary fighters and remaining civilians to pull their jackets tighter. In November, Zarabad's nights were unforgivingly cold, especially in the open bazaar.

Silhouetted figures moved stealthily among the stalls, their breaths visible in the frigid air. Tired eyes, underlined by the stress of continuous warfare, darted around cautiously. The constant hum of drones, the distant thumping of helicopter blades, and sporadic gunfire kept everyone on edge.

"Liv, got any more of that heating gel?" whispered Em, her voice quivering with the cold.

Liv pulled out a few sachets from her bag. "Here. But ration them out. We don't know how long we'll be here." 

Hffyl, wrapping a blanket around himself, approached one of the makeshift fires where Suresh was heating up cans of food. The unfamiliar cold made him reminisce about the warmer Malaysian nights. "This isn't how I pictured my adventure," he murmured to himself.

"You and me both," Captain Ajwad muttered, taking a sip from his flask, his lips almost blue from the cold.

A civilian woman, wearing a tattered hijab, approached them. In a mix of Pashto and broken English, she offered them tea. "For strength," she gestured. 

Hffyl nodded gratefully, but his face betrayed his exhaustion. He had done much for an 11-year-old. "How do we win this?" he asked no one in particular.

Walker looked at the boy. "We make them too tired, too overstretched, and make it too costly for them to continue. That's how you win an insurgency. You don't beat them; you outlast them."

Hamzah, clutching his injured arm, added, "We should have pick them off one by one." 

The buzzing of a drone grew louder. Everyone looked up. Mei Ling swiftly jotted down something on a piece of paper and handed it to Asif. "If we can attach these explosives to a few drones, they might serve as a helicopter repellent," she said.

Suddenly, an RPG shot into the sky, aiming for the Apache that had caused them so much trouble. It hit one of the helicopter's blades, sending it into a chaotic spiral. While it managed to regain control, it was forced to retreat for repairs.

The AASOC forces, realizing their aerial support was compromised, began a more cautious advance, using the MRAP as a shield. But even that beast of a vehicle had its vulnerabilities. Karim and Mustafa, having identified a drainage system running beneath part of the bazaar, hatched a plan to plant explosives below the MRAP's expected path.

The explosion was deafening. The MRAP was tossed onto its side, its wheels still spinning. 

AASOC, though elite, were showing signs of fatigue too. Their ranks were thinning, and their technological advantage couldn't shield them from the sheer determination of the JZAI and their allies.

As dawn approached, the continuous hit-and-run tactics, coupled with the frigid temperatures, began to weigh heavily on both sides. Exhaustion became the great equalizer.

In a silent agreement, a lull settled over the bazaar. Both sides, for the moment, retreated to tend to their wounded, regroup, and perhaps even snatch a few moments of rest.

November 21, 6:00 AM

The first light of dawn cast a faint glow over Bazaar-e-Zarabad. The air was cold, and the weary fighters, their eyes lined with exhaustion, gathered in a circle. The fragile stillness of the morning belied the tension that lingered among them.

"Alright," began Mustafa, running his fingers through his unkempt beard, "We've got intel that Jalaluddin's group reclaimed Masjid Al-Noor in Kohna-e-Zarabad. We need to provide support without making it look like a full-frontal assault. Ideas?"

"Ain't no way we're going in blind," murmured Liv, as she examined a torn city map spread across a wooden table. "But we can't sit idle either. They'll regroup and come at us again."

Walker, deep in thought, stared at the markings indicating Kohna-e-Zarabad. "That's deep into their territory. They've got eyes all over."

Hamzah interjected, "We do got locals on our side. They're fed up and they know the alleyways, the rooftops. They're our best shot at getting in without much noise."

"Here's an idea," he began, "Back home, during celebrations, we've these big processions. Draws everyone's attention. What if we do something similar? A decoy rally or protest?"

Charlie noted, taking a sip from her cup. "They won't know if we're part of it or sneaking behind them."

Captain Ajwad nodded slowly. "Which is why we need to be careful. They won't hesitate to harm civilians if they get suspicious."

"They're already harming them," murmured Hffyl, looking away.

Emma chimed in, her voice steady, "If we could secure a route, even if it's temporary, and push through rapidly, we might stand a chance."

Asif nodded. "A rally from Bazaar-e-Zarabad to Kohna-e-Zarabad."

Em tapped on the Masjid Al-Noor location. "This could be our end goal for today. Secure it and give us an advantage point."

"And then?" asked Mei Ling.

"And then," Walker replied, his voice resolute, "we make it our stronghold. Use it to monitor their movements and strategize accordingly."

Kadir, who had been silent till now, finally spoke up, "They change shifts around mid-afternoon. That's when they're most vulnerable, even if for just a few minutes. But they also might change up their routine with the ongoing conflicts."

Liv smirked, "Then that's our window. We prepare now and strike then."

"That's all good," Charlie interjected, "But how do we deal with the forces still hammering us at Bazaar? We can't just leave it undefended."

Hamzah replied, "A few of us will stay behind. Keep 'em busy. While they're distracted, we push through. And Jalaluddin's group? They're holding up?"

Mustafa replied, "For now. But we can't wait too long."

8:00AM

They began their march. The front comprised civilians who sang traditional songs and chants, creating a shield for the fighters who trailed behind. The streets were tight, with buildings on both sides. A good cover, but also a potential trap.

As they approached the halfway mark, a few AASOC units got wind of the rally. Unsure of the situation and not wanting to harm civilians, they kept their distance, but their intent was clear. Suspicion grew as the rally neared Kohna-e-Zarabad.

Suddenly, a loud blast echoed, sending shockwaves through the narrow streets. An MRAP, equipped with all its defenses, was attempting to break through the front of the rally. Panic ensued.

"No, no! Keep calm! Move to the side," shouted Liv, trying to control the situation.

Walker, Asif, and a few other fighters quickly huddled. "We need to take that down, and fast."

Charlie, panting from the sprint, handed over a bundle of Molotovs. "A gift from back home," she grinned. "Aim for the front hood."

Without wasting a second, the Molotovs were hurled at the MRAP, setting it ablaze. The vehicle screeched to a halt, allowing the rally to proceed, but the mood had changed. The chants had transformed into cries for help and peace.

It was almost dusk when they reached Kohna-e-Zarabad. The mosque's towering minarets were in sight. The clash at Masjid Al-Noor was ongoing, with Jalaluddin's group giving it all they had. Mustafa's reinforcement was desperately needed.

Mustafa, though battered and bruised, managed a smile. "Alright, it's go time. Let's join our brothers and sisters."

9:00 AM

The sun was now high in the sky, bearing down on the beleaguered city. The ornate gates of Masjid Al-Noor stood tall, with the surrounding area turning into a battlefield. Jalaluddin's group was in a fierce standoff with the AASOC, bullets and shouts punctuating the air.

Mustafa's reinforcement group moved cautiously, using the cluttered stalls and narrow alleyways for cover. "We gotta move quick," Liv whispered. "They're tightening the noose."

Walker gestured towards a route, signaling for a group to flank. "If we can get to the back of the mosque, we'd have the higher ground."

Hamzah, meanwhile, was coordinating with local volunteers. They handed over packets of food and makeshift first-aid kits. "Shukran," he mumbled, hurriedly distributing them among the fighters.

But the AASOC was quick to adapt. Noting the surge of reinforcements, they began advancing in a pincer movement, threatening to trap JZAI between them. Suddenly, radio chatter hinted at a larger problem. "They're mobilizing towards Bazaar-e-Zarabad," Mei Ling exclaimed, trying to tap into more encrypted messages. "Seems they're taking advantage of our split."

Em's face paled, "That's our base! Our supplies are there!"

Walker clenched his jaw, torn between aiding Jalaluddin and defending the Bazaar. "We need to split. Some stay here, hold the line. Others, back to the Bazaar."

Liv nodded, "I'll head back with Charlie and a few others. We need to protect our turf."

As the morning wore on, the battle intensified. The AASOC's tactical edge began to show. While JZAI fighters were passionate, they were heavily outgunned and running low on ammo.

1:00 PM

By early afternoon, the Zuhr call to prayer echoed from another mosque, a missile from an Apache hit a building near Masjid Al-Noor, sending debris and dust into the air. It was clear that the AASOC was now using heavier firepower, escalating the conflict.

But the local knowledge of the JZAI and the city's civilians came in handy. Using underground tunnels and hidden paths, they managed to evacuate some of the wounded and continually resupply, albeit with dwindling resources. The civilians prayed inside a safe place which was quite distance from the conflict. The JZAI fighters however, most of whom were Muslim, still need to finish the assault. Mustafa, sensing the moment's sanctity, signaled for a pause in advance. "Let's pray," he whispered.

Following this guidance, half of the fighters began their Salah, while the rest stood guard, weapons at the ready. Their prayer was brief but it was deep in its sincerity and intensity. For those few minutes, the fighters were connected to something far greater than themselves. Once they finished, they swapped roles, allowing those who stood guard to pray.

3:00 PM

Back at Bazaar-e-Zarabad, Liv and her group were engaged in intense urban warfare, with AASOC troops trying to reclaim the territory. The bazaar was a maze, and the squad, familiar with its intricacies, kept the AASOC at bay, albeit with significant losses.

5:00 PM

As evening approached, and with the mosque now under JZAI control, another call for prayer filled the air. This time, the AASOC, perhaps out of respect or strategy, momentarily reduced their offensive. It gave the fighters another brief respite.

The situation was bleak. Airstrikes now targeted larger areas, forcing civilians into basements and makeshift shelters. Masjid Al-Noor, despite its significance, was now under threat. Jalaluddin, now inside Masjid Al-Noor, led the prayer. Behind the mosque's battered walls, the fighters repeated the unique war-time Salah.

Charlie, through ragged breaths, managed to send a message. "We're holding, but not for long. Need backup."

Mustafa looked at the mosque's minaret, now flying the JZAI flag. "This is our land, our fight. We've won today, but the war? It's far from over."

As night approached, Zarabad, a city rich in history and culture, lay wounded. As they rose from their prostration, weapons at the ready, the weight of the world felt a little lighter, even if just for those fleeting moments.