"PARAS" Initiative

Samaira Rauniyar leaned back against the jeep's seat, arms crossed, eyes sharp with curiosity. The wind ruffled her short hair as they drove toward their rendezvous point. She turned to Ahan Vedant, who was skimming through the classified file their commander had handed them earlier.

"So, what's in the file?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ahan sighed, flipping the pages before closing it with a dull thud. "It's not a plan exactly. More like an… investigation."

Samaira scoffed. "Great. So, we're detectives now?"

Ahan smirked. "Something like that." He glanced at her and added, "Alright, listen up. Wheeler Island—now known as Dr. Abdul Kalam Island—is one of India's most confidential sites. It's a missile testing facility, meaning top-tier security, classified research, and a whole lot of scientists working round the clock. The people stationed there are under strict orders to keep their work secret—even from their own families."

Samaira nodded, waiting for the part that made this their problem. "Okay… so what's the issue?"

Ahan's face darkened slightly. "Someone sent an email directly to the head general."

Samaira whistled. "Bold move. What did it say?"

"The email contained classified details about one of the labs on the island—information that no one outside the island should know. And just to make sure they weren't ignored, the sender also included a warning."

Samaira leaned in. "A warning?"

Ahan nodded. "They claimed that an attack is going to happen today. On one of the labs."

Samaira's playful smirk faded. "Damn. And do we know which lab?"

Ahan tapped the file. "That's the part they conveniently left out."

Samaira huffed. "Of course. Nothing's ever simple." She frowned and asked, "So, what else is in there? Any idea who sent the message?"

Ahan chuckled dryly. "Come on, Samaira. Do you really think they'd give us everything in a file?" He tossed it onto the seat between them. "All we know is what they want us to know."

Samaira clicked her tongue. "Great. A potential attack, a faceless informant, and a ticking clock. Sounds fun."

Ahan shrugged. "Welcome to the job."

A few minutes later, their vehicle pulled up near an airstrip, where a group of soldiers was waiting.

The man in charge—Abhinav Kashyap—stood tall, his sharp eyes scanning them as they approached. He was in his early thirties, built like a veteran who had seen his fair share of chaos but still carried himself with a steady, unshakable presence.

"You two must be Vedant and Rauniyar," he said, giving them a curt nod. "Hope you're ready. We leave for Wheeler Island now."

Samaira glanced at Ahan before cracking a grin. "Ready? Always."

Ahan sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Without wasting any more time, they boarded the aircraft.

Chapter 3: Mission Briefing

The aircraft hummed steadily as it soared through the sky, slicing through the thick clouds en route to Dr. Abdul Kalam Island. Inside, the atmosphere was tense but focused.

Colonel Abhinav Kashyap stood at the front of the cabin, his sharp gaze scanning the six captains seated before him. His posture was commanding, his uniform crisp despite the long hours. There was no room for uncertainty in his voice as he began the briefing.

"Listen up," he started, his tone brooking no nonsense. "Wheeler Island houses three main labs—one in the east, one in the west, and one at the center. Additionally, there are twenty shelter storages spread across the island. Right now, there are approximately 500 personnel on-site, and none of them have been informed about our arrival."

Samaira raised an eyebrow. "So, we're dropping in unannounced?"

Kashyap nodded. "Exactly. We will inform them of our presence only ten minutes before landing. That way, if there's an insider involved, they won't have time to react before we're already on the ground."

Ahan exchanged a glance with Samaira. A surprise entry meant they were preparing for the possibility that someone inside the facility was compromised.

"Now, listen carefully," Kashyap continued. "Arabanya Rao, Kaalindi Jain, and Nirixita Kumar—your job is to inspect the twenty shelter storages. You will conduct a standard security check, making it look like a routine inspection. Blend in. Do not act suspicious."

The three captains nodded in understanding.

Kashyap then turned to the other three. "Aryanand Singh, Ahan Vedant, and Siddharthayan Sharma—you'll be heading straight for the labs."

Ahan straightened slightly. Finally, something interesting.

Kashyap continued, "Vedant, you'll cover the North Lab. Siddharthayan, you take the South Lab. Aryanand, you handle the Central Lab. The labs are critical locations. If anything is going to happen, it will likely happen there."

Siddharthayan ran a hand through his hair. "And what exactly are we looking for?"

"Anything unusual. A single misplaced object, an unauthorized personnel movement, a security breach—anything that feels off," Kashyap said firmly. "Stay alert. We're walking into this blind, and we can't afford mistakes."

Samaira leaned toward Ahan and whispered, "Sounds like we're going to have all the fun while the others count boxes."

Ahan smirked but didn't respond. His gut was telling him that fun wasn't the word for what was coming.

Kashyap took a final look at his team. "Everyone clear on their assignments?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir!" filled the aircraft.

Kashyap nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. We land in thirty minutes. Stay sharp."

Ahan leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly.

Forty minutes before the mission briefing, in a towering skyscraper nestled in the heart of the city, a man sat in a dimly lit, luxurious office. Despite being in his sixties, his sharp features and youthful presence contrasted with the deep wrinkles etched onto his face. His silver hair was neatly combed, but tonight, he looked anything but composed.

His fingers drummed anxiously on the mahogany desk as he stared at the glowing screen of his laptop. The email before him made his breath hitch—his mind racing through worst-case scenarios.

Without hesitation, he picked up his phone and dialed a secure line. The call barely rang once before the recipient picked up.

"General Rudra Thakur speaking."

"It's me," the man said, his voice steady but urgent. "We have a situation."

There was a pause on the other end. "What kind of situation?" Rudra asked cautiously.

The man exhaled sharply, gripping the phone tighter. "Someone just emailed me the exact location of PARAS."

For a brief second, there was only silence. Then—

"What?" Rudra's voice lost its usual composure.

"Yes," the man confirmed. "I don't know how they got this information, but we don't have time to figure that out right now. You need to send your soldiers there immediately."

Rudra's mind raced. This wasn't just bad—it was catastrophic. PARAS, the Parallax Anomaly Recognition and Alert System, was one of Pinnacle Global Ventures' most classified assets. If someone knew its exact location, that meant they had access to intelligence they shouldn't have.

"Sir," Rudra said carefully, "shouldn't we deploy Deviant instead? They're better suited for handling situations like this."

There was a pause, then the man spoke with a tone of finality. "Deviant will take too long to mobilize. We cannot afford to wait. Send your soldiers now, and move PARAS immediately."

Rudra clenched his jaw. This wasn't how he wanted to play this. Sending in his team without telling them why was a dangerous move. But orders were orders.

"Understood, Mr. President," Rudra finally said.

And with that, the call ended, leaving behind an uneasy silence.

The aircraft touched down on Dr. Abdul Kalam Island, its wheels skimming the runway as the engines roared one last time before settling into silence. Without hesitation, the six teams disembarked, swiftly moving into their designated positions. The mission had begun.

Colonel Abhinav Kashyap remained inside the aircraft, his eyes glued to the surveillance monitors. He had an aerial view of the island and access to the on-ground feeds from each team's body cameras. His job was to coordinate and adjust orders based on real-time intel.

The first team, led by Aryanand Singh, entered Lab 1 with military precision. The scientists inside were startled by their sudden arrival, but there was no sign of panic—just confusion. The team swept through the area, inspecting every inch, but nothing seemed out of place.

"Lab 1 is clear," Aryanand reported over the comms.

The second team, stationed at Lab 2, had a similar experience—except for a small oddity. Some of the server logs had been accessed recently, but without clearance, they couldn't verify if it was normal or a breach. They flagged it for later investigation.

Then came Lab 3.

Ahan Vedant stepped inside, his instincts immediately sounding alarms in his head. Unlike the other two labs, this one was eerily silent—too silent. No murmuring of scientists, no hum of machinery, just an oppressive emptiness.

Something was wrong.

His boots crunched against the tiled floor as he moved forward, scanning the room. That's when he saw it— a thin, crimson line snaking across the white floor.

"Blood."

It wasn't splattered or smeared in chaos. Instead, it flowed in a neat, deliberate trail, leading him further inside. He followed it with slow, calculated steps, his grip tightening on his weapon.

At the end of the trail, he found the source.

A scientist, slumped against the wall, eyes vacant, a single thin metal needle embedded deep into his forehead. The precision of the kill was unsettling. It wasn't a bullet wound, not a blade—it was something far more calculated.

Then came another report.

"Sir… we found the same thing," another team member's voice crackled through the radio.

More bodies. Same method.

Ahan wasted no time. He pressed his comms.

"Colonel, we have a problem."