Killers POV

On the evening of May 29, 2018, at 8 PM, a somber group of eight men convened, shrouded in an aura of tension and purpose. Each face bore the marks of time and experience, a testament to the years they had spent in the shadows, plotting and executing their vendettas. Amidst the gathering, a voice cut through the silence, laden with determination and resolve.

"This is the day we get our revenge on that bastard," one of them declared, his words punctuated by a collective agreement from the rest. "Yeah, and we will not miss it. It has been 20 years, and finally, we've got his location. We will make this count," another added, his tone firm and resolute.

Amidst murmurs of assent, a voice of caution interjected, "Can we trust the source?" The query hung in the air, laced with doubt and uncertainty. However, it was swiftly dispelled by reassurance from another member. "Yes, we can. I have known that man for years, and I trust his words," he asserted confidently.

But amidst their plans for retribution, a critical detail emerged - the presence of an innocent child, the offspring of their target. "What if he saw our faces?" one of the men voiced his concern. Yet, the leader of the group, a figure of authority and conviction, quickly quashed any notion of harm befalling the child. "We will not kill him. He is innocent and has nothing to do with his father's bad deeds," he proclaimed firmly.

As the night wore on, their preparations continued, fueled by a sense of purpose and inevitability. At 12:40 AM, their resolve hardened, and they were done with there mission . Yet, amidst the darkness of their deeds, a flicker of conscience remained.

Concerns about the child persisted, echoing in the minds of some members as they embarked on their journey. "That kid saw our faces. We will get caught," one of them fretted, his voice tinged with apprehension. However, the leader remained steadfast in his conviction, assuring his comrades that their actions were sanctioned and protected as the weight of their actions settled upon them, one of the men voiced his concern about the repercussions for the child who had witnessed their faces. "This is worse than death for that kid. We killed his parents, and now nobody is going to listen to him. Trust me, Diljeet, you're just trying to act good, but you're worse than all of us," he remarked, his words laden with bitter truth.

Diljeet remained silent, his thoughts a tumultuous sea of regret and uncertainty. As the night wore on, the group found themselves standing on an empty road, its pathways branching off into four different routes. In a moment of reflection, Diljeet spoke up, acknowledging that this was their final mission together.

"I hope you all will find peace in your upcoming lives," he expressed, his voice tinged with melancholy. "You have the resources to leave your past behind and start anew. Though we may never meet again, remember that we were the last of our family. And even if we are not together, if anyone gets into trouble, we will always be there to help."

A member of the group interjected, reminding Diljeet that they were not the last of the family. "Parm is still alive. Why didn't we kill him? He was a traitor too," he questioned, his tone accusatory.

Diljeet paused, considering the question carefully before responding, "Parm tried to stop his brother. We have no reason to kill him." With that, he made his decision to leave their life of violence behind and embark on a new path.

As they embraced one another for what might be the last time, a sense of closure washed over them. Each man went his separate way, carrying with him the weight of their shared past and the hope for a brighter future. And though their paths diverged, the bonds forged in the crucible of their shared experiences would forever bind them together. As Diljeet grappled with the weight of his past actions and the haunting words of his comrade, a storm brewed within him. Regret etched lines upon his face, a silent testament to the inner turmoil he battled to suppress. Despite the nagging doubts that gnawed at his conscience, he clung to the belief that their targets deserved their fate, a fragile justification that offered little solace.

As Diljeet embarked on his own journey, the roar of his motorcycle drowned out the whispers of doubt that lingered in his mind. Determination burned within him as he traversed the distance to his destination, his thoughts consumed by the mission ahead.

Arriving at the warehouse, Diljeet was greeted by his trusted men, their presence a reassurance amidst the uncertainty that surrounded him. With a swift exchange, he relinquished his bike and commandeered a Lamborghini Urus, its sleek lines a stark contrast to the darkness that cloaked his intentions.

Navigating the bustling streets of Delhi, Diljeet made his way to the airport, his mind focused on the task at hand. Boarding his private jet, he settled into his seat, the hum of the engines a soothing lullaby as he journeyed towards his destination.

After a grueling flight spanning 14 hours, Diljeet touched down in Canada, greeted by the cool night air . Stepping off the jet, he was met by a waiting car, its presence a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf him.

Turning to his men, Diljeet wasted no time in seeking out his son, the thought of their reunion driving him forward with renewed purpose. As they made their way to the university, Diljeet's heart raced with anticipation, his mind filled with visions of embracing his beloved child once more.

Upon reaching the dormitory, Diljeet's steps quickened, his resolve unwavering as he approached his son's room. With a trembling hand, he pressed the intercom, his voice choked with emotion as he spoke.

"Hey son, it's me," he murmured, his words a plea for forgiveness. "If you're still awake..."

And then, as if by magic, a voice answered from the other end, breaking through the silence like a ray of light piercing the darkness.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm here," his son's voice replied, a warmth flooding Diljeet's heart.

In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of his past and the promise of a new beginning, tears welled in Diljeet's eyes. Though the road ahead was fraught with challenges, one thing remained clear - the enduring bond between father and son, a beacon of hope guiding them through the darkest of nights. As Diljeet embraced his son, he whispered words of apology and love, his heart heavy with the weight of his past transgressions. Yet, in his son's forgiveness, he found solace and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.