CHAPTER 52 - Fragment of the lost past.

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"Commander. We have arrived!" said one of the soldiers, waking him up from his brief shut-eye. When someone is as experienced as he was, they learn to take advantage of every single moment.

He and his twelve-man squad disembarked from their trusty BTR, a newer model designed for improved ergonomics – well, as ergonomic as an armoured personnel carrier could be. Those oligarchs and their cronies would be sure to get their corrupt claws into it as well.

With the safety off on their AKs, the men moved forward in the darkness. The electricity was out, friendly forces had taken down the nearby power grid. 

They need to complete their mission and eliminate as much resistance as possible before the backup generators kick in. That means they have a few minutes at most. 

*bang* 

*thud*

Even though it was dark, they could see. The new night vision Goggles, while being somewhat cumbersome, proved invaluable. One of the guards patrolling the compound was silently taken out with a suppressed pistol by a member of his team. The lack of visual confirmation and downed comms kept the rest of the compound oblivious.

*bang* *thud*

*bang* *thud*

*bang* *thud*

"Be careful boys. If we are a little too careless, they will be alerted. We have to complete at least some of the objectives before their generators kick in." he said to his soldiers, as more enemy combatants were taken out, some by him, some by his skilled soldiers. 

With each enemy combatant neutralized, the weight of their mission pressed down on him. They cleared the courtyard of the deserted school building and entered the main corridor. While the intel didn't specify the number of remaining hostiles, any caught unaware fell victim to their swift actions.

The main corridor's door was left open as there was a patrol route through it, and the targets used it too. He took the lead and entered the corridor, only to see an enemy soldier, patrolling the area with a flashlight. 

*stab*" UgHm….!!!" he stabbed the enemy in the neck, from behind the door he was hiding, which was on the patrol route. After that soldier was down, the corridor was clear, and his soldier could enter. 

They proceeded slowly, clearing one room after the other. The building was an old school with many rooms where someone could be. They had to be careful with the search and take out as many combatants as possible pre-maturely, as anyone left would mean their six would not be clear when they moved to the next floor.

*bang* *thud*

*bang* *thud*

The sound of bodies falling did cause sound but that sound was masked by the howling wind and thunderous clouds in the deep dark sky. It would be perfect weather to have a movie night with his daughter, but duty calls, and he had to be there.

*Click* 

Just as the strike team cleared the floor, and entered the stairs for the next, the power came back. It wasn't supposed to happen this soon. "Command, this is Phoenix-1, Power's back. I repeat, power's back" he spoke into his comms, urgency lacing his voice, and he then instructed his soldiers, "The cover's blown. Boys, engage full automatic, shoot to kill." 

Whatever was happening with the other team, it was not going well. They had taken out the enemy soldiers near the generators, but the restored power meant it wasn't coming from them but from the grid. The power was supposed to be out for far more time than this. Now that the power is back, the security cameras will pick them up, and the bodies they left along the way. 

As they traversed the stairs to the next floor, sure enough, there were enemy soldiers there. He reacted instinctively. Before they had noticed them, he pointed the muzzle of his assault rifle at them and pressed the trigger. 

*BANG! BANG! BANG!* The loud sound of the assault rifles rang true, cutting through the sound of the wind and thunder. Enemy bodies crumpled to the floor, lives extinguished in an instant.

*WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO* the eerie howl of the defence alarms could be heard, as the enemies are alerted of their presence. From now on, they have to fight, tooth and nail, every step of the way.

As expected, with the gunfire and camera footage, their position was compromised. Enemy soldiers began pouring in.

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

The team moved through the corridors, clearing rooms of any resistance while engaging the relentless stream of attackers. Years of leading special forces honed his skills, and his soldiers were as capable as they come.

They cleared the second floor without casualties, though a close call or two and a bulletproof vest-saved injury kept the adrenaline pumping.

The third floor proved more challenging. The enemy was better prepared, the element of surprise lost. They encountered the first difficulty, as soon as they cleared the stairwell. 

*Click* 

"GRENADE!! DOWN!!" yelled one of his soldiers, diving on the explosive to shield and protect others of the team.

*THUD* 

The sound of the fragmentation grenade going off was muffled as the shock wave reverberated through the body of his soldier. He was a veteran of countless missions yet the sickening sound that his soldier's body made while it took the brunt of the grenade is one of the scars he will have to carry for the rest of his life. 

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

There was no time to mourn. While he and his men were processing the shock of what happened, an enemy machine gun opened fire on them. And just like that, another of his men went down, with two more being injured.

*Click* 

"Frag out!!" he yelled to alert his soldiers, as he threw a grenade at the hastily set up machine gun nest. If the enemy had more time, they would have set up a more defensible nest, but the few sandbags it had now were nowhere enough to take a blast from a grenade.

*BOOM!!*

It was never a good idea to set up a machine gun indoors, but so is using grenades indoors. As the explosion took out the machine gunner, the strike team did not have much time to rest as more soldiers streaked in.

*BANG! BANG! BANG!* he shot at an enemy taking him down, while his soldiers pulled the injured into cover.

"Command, requesting immediate reinforcements and medivac. We need it now!" he screamed into his comms, a desperate plea into the static, hoping that his base would respond. It was not an all-dark mission, and the command should be in touch, but there was no response since they got here. 

Leaving the injured soldiers behind cover, they pressed on, the mission taking priority.

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

They cleared most of the floor, and according to the intel package they received, the enemy leader is supposedly holed up in there, in an old conference room. Still, a few more combatants were standing there, on guard. 

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

They finally reached the door, but it was locked from the inside. He nodded at his explosive breach expert, and the nonverbal communication was enough. The soldier moved forward, and while the other soldiers pointed their rifles at the door, he placed the explosive package. 

*Boom!*

It all happened quickly, but the soldiers charged into the doorway after the explosion ripped through it, showering them with debris. They charged into the smoke-filled room, guns raised. In front of him was the one they were looking for. One of the leaders of the separatist forces and their target for the night. 

"HANDS IN THE AIR AND MOVE AWAY FROM THE HOSTAGES!!!"

Sure they reached the target, but things were not peachy, and the man was holding hostages. A dozen civilians, most of them government officials and their families, were tied up. Some, horrifyingly, were children. They were the reason, they did not drop a cute little hellfire AGM, from a drone on the building, in the first place. 

"I SAID MOVE AWAY FROM THE HOSTAGES! AND DROP THE GUN" his second in command yelled, while pointing the gun towards the separatist leader. There were quite a few laser markers pointed at the man's chest, or at least the part of it that was not obscured by the hostage held at gunpoint in front of him.

"Do you think I will be persuaded by the threat of death? You will only make me a martyr. So go ahead, soldier! Kill me! Kill me and I will live forever, as the spark that lit fire to this country!" He gestured wildly with one hand, the other still hidden behind a young girl he held up.

The area they were in was already a lawless area, with dozens of separatist forces, fighting the government and each other, to gain total control of these parts of the country. Sure gaining the status of a martyr would help their organization, but their competitors will make sure they don't get that advantage. 

"Don't be full of yourself! Sure the media will cover it, but you will be forgotten in a week, your other 'freedom fighters' will be hunted down, if not by the military, then by the separatist scum like yourself. " one of his soldiers replied, the same one who woke him up in the APC," So drop the gun and step away from the hostages, and you will only have to answer to the courts!" 

"Ah, yes. I may be one of the many people that your country deems as a 'terrorist'," he air-quoted the last word with his one free hand, " and they may forget about me, but what about these civilians you were so worried about?"

A low growl rumbled from the soldier's throat as he fell quiet. He knew the man was right. The optics would be disastrous.

"There's another way," he rasped, speaking for the first time since stepping foot in the room, his voice laden with a terrible weight. "Let the hostages go. Face the consequences. You might even survive."

"No, no. I agree. The media will not care about me. But, I'm sure they will care about the death of these people though. Incompetent military caused the death of a dozen civilians, government officials, including kids." he said as he pressed his gun on the head of the girl he was keeping as a human shield, " What if you guys are dead? Will they care, Hmm? An entire strike team of soldiers as well as civilians, died a fiery death, in an operation gone wrong."

"Fiery death!?" one of the other soldiers started, his voice cautious. The organization run by the man was known for its attacks on civilians, Explosives and chemical attacks being their favourite.

The separatist leader hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. Then, with a cruel smile, he shook his head. "My death will ignite a fire. This fight will never end."

Time seemed to slow down.

His senses expanded, and his eyes honed in on an item of interest. In the high-stakes situation they were in, he did not recognize the threat they were on until now. The separatist leader was wearing a bomb vest, but because of the girl in front of him, it was not visible. 

The girl seemed so much like his daughter. His entire world. Will she love him the same after what he has to do now? He suppressed the thought, the instant it popped into his mind. He was doing this not only for the little girl waiting for him back home but for millions of others just like her who would also be affected if the separatist leader was not neutralized. 

In that split second, the commander knew what he had to do. There was no time for deliberation, no other option. He raised his weapon, aiming not at the leader, but at the girl.

*BANG! BANG! BANG!* Three shots were fired, the 7.62mm round passed through the child's fragile body and into the body of the separatist. 

Silence. That moment was probably the quietest and the loudest moment of his life. All the hostages who were whimpering out of fear till now had gone quiet. The raging winds and the distant thunders were no longer heard as if nature itself was shocked to silence by what had just transpired. 

The bullet found its mark. The girl crumpled, her body lifeless in the leader's grasp, who himself was hit by the bullets, and was dropping dead. 

"Target neutralized." he calmly said into the radio, as he lowered his gun. His soldiers remained quiet throughout the whole ordeal. The usually chatty young soldier, who was even talking to the separatist till now, was also silent, but his now pale face, had conveyed all that needed to be said. 

All of them knew this was the only obvious outcome. In the grand scheme of things, a child's life is not worth much, no matter how precious it is. If the vest were to explode, It would have killed them, and the hostages and would have possibly collapsed the building too.

**BOOOMM!!!!**

But they were still unlucky. It seemed that the explosive vest was connected to a Dead man's switch. After the body of the child and the enemy combatant fell to the ground, it activated. They did not have any time to react. 

**BOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!**

Secondary explosions were triggered by the first, and the whole thing went to hell. 

There was fire. There was rubble caused by the building partially collapsing onto itself. Any hope of saving the hostages was gone. They were probably burned to death or were crushed by rubble. The commander vaguely registered the screams of his men, the crushing weight of falling concrete. Then, darkness.

When he awoke, it was to a scene of utter devastation. Smoke and dust choked the air, the once-proud building reduced to a smoldering ruin. He was trapped, pinned beneath a heavy slab of concrete, the searing pain in his legs a dull ache compared to the crushing weight of despair.

He killed that little girl for nothing. All of them were dead, the moment they stepped into the building. Media will probably get the footage of what happened, the whole thing seemed like a trap anyway. 

His country will burn from the flames of revolution. His name will be etched into history as an evil, and the terrorist who caused all of this will be a hero. How will his daughter react? Will she see through the lies, and recognise him for who he is? 

These were his thoughts as his state worsened. He tried to distract himself, not wanting to think of the shitstorm that just transpired in his final moments. The flashlight on his helmet turned on, and he looked at the debris in front of him. 

One piece of rubble, a broken shard of mirror caught his attention, reflecting a face pale with shock and exhaustion. It wasn't his face. It was young, smooth-skinned, with bright eyes filled with a haunting mix of terror and… familiarity.

Then, a memory flickered, faint and fragmented. A battlefield, the roar of cannons, the taste of blood on his lips. And a name – Rudra Deva, King of Dharanikota.

The revelation hit him like a physical blow. He was trapped, not just by the rubble, but by the past. All of what was happening had already happened. He was Rudra Deva, and he was in a nightmare.

Those were his thoughts as everything faded to black once more.