Scene 1 – Breaking News on Media
Location: ISI Headquarters, Media Monitoring Room – Islamabad
The television screens lined up across the wall suddenly shifted to "Breaking News" banners. Bright red tickers scrolled:
"Indian Army demands safe return of its paratroopers — 'Technical error, not intrusion' says General Rajiv Mehta."
The announcer's voice echoed:
"Indian Army spokesperson General Rajiv Mehta has officially declared that two nights ago, during a routine airborne training near Bhuj, Gujarat, a C-130 transport aircraft experienced technical problems. Due to the navigation error, seven paratroopers were mistakenly dropped across the border near Hyderabad, Pakistan. The Indian Army has demanded their immediate return, stressing that these were trainee officers and not spies."
In the ISI's media monitoring room, a silence lasted only two seconds before a wave of chuckles burst out. Ubaid leaned back in his chair, smirking.
"Sir, technical error? These guys must think we're children in school, not intelligence officers," he said, raising his eyebrows.
Another officer joined in, "Exactly! Who trains paratroopers right next to an international border? And in the middle of the night?"
Laughter spread across the room like wildfire. But Zayan, who had just entered, did not smile. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, watching Rajiv Mehta's firm yet nervous face. He noticed the carefully chosen words, the nervous shifting of eyes, and the repeated stress on the word trainees.
Zayan muttered under his breath, "Embarrassed… they're masking their failure. But this isn't as simple as it looks."
The room quieted instantly. Everyone knew when Zayan shifted his tone, it meant something more was brewing.
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Scene 2 – Silent Reflection
Location: Zayan's Office – ISI HQ
Zayan walked briskly into his office. The walls of maps, dossiers, and photos of Indian installations surrounded him like an endless puzzle. He removed his coat, placed it on the chair, and stood near the window staring out at the cloudy Islamabad skyline.
His thoughts raced: Why announce it publicly if it were truly a mistake? Why use the media? They're forcing a diplomatic narrative. Something doesn't add up.
He pressed the intercom.
"Secretary, connect me with the office of Army Chief General Mushtaq Siddiqui. Urgent."
The line clicked after a minute. A female voice came through:
"Sir, General Siddiqui's secretary here. The Chief is in a closed session. He can see you at 1600 hours, no earlier."
"Book it," Zayan replied firmly.
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Scene 3 – The Office Banter
Location: Phantom Team Room – ISI HQ
Back in the operations room, Ubaid was grinning ear to ear, retelling the news clip like a stand-up comedian.
"Bhai, imagine! Seven fully trained RAW agents falling from the sky like mangoes in July! And now they're crying in media: 'Return our trainees!' Next time maybe they'll say, sorry, our GPS told us Lahore was still India!"
The room erupted again. Rizwan added,
"They even said C-130 had a technical error. Sir, even my motorbike knows where the road ends!"
The officers were doubled over with laughter when Zayan entered again, calm as a storm waiting to strike. The room fell silent.
He looked around.
"Enjoy the jokes, but don't forget: our enemy never makes such loud excuses unless they're hiding something deeper. Stay alert."
Ubaid straightened, sensing the change in tone.
"Sir, you think this demand is a cover-up?"
Zayan didn't answer directly. Instead, he picked up a file from the table, flipping through the interrogation notes of the captured agents. His voice was low but firm:
"I'll brief the Chief. After that, we prepare. Whatever game RAW is playing… we'll make sure Pakistan writes the last move."
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Scene 4 – The Army Chief's Office
Location: GHQ – Rawalpindi, 1600 Hours
The heavy oak doors of the Army Chief's office closed behind Zayan. Inside, General Mushtaq Siddiqui sat behind his massive desk, spectacles on, pen in hand. His presence commanded respect—sharp eyes, silver hair, and the aura of a man who had seen both war and politics unfold in their harshest forms.
"Assalam o Alaikum, sir," Zayan greeted, saluting.
"Walaikum Assalam, Zayan. Sit down. Tell me what's troubling you."
Zayan opened his briefcase, laying out interrogation summaries, maps, and a transcript of Rajiv Mehta's statement.
"Sir, officially India is calling them trainees. But in reality, they were carrying encrypted communication devices, specialized knives, and maps targeting key installations. Clearly not accidental paratroopers. This is RAW infiltration under disguise."
General Mushtaq leaned back, eyes narrowing.
"So, they're trying to use the media to pressure us? Painting themselves as innocent victims, and if we don't return them, they'll call us aggressors."
"Exactly, sir. They want to flip the narrative."
The Chief tapped his pen on the desk. "Don't worry. Pakistan has faced bigger propaganda games. One thing is certain: we don't return their spies. Not today, not ever. They crossed into our soil knowingly. That's all that matters."
He leaned forward, voice deepening:
"Keep them under strict watch. No leaks to the press. Let India keep guessing. Meanwhile, prepare for retaliation—quietly."
Zayan nodded firmly. "Understood, sir."
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Scene 5 – Back at ISI HQ
Location: Phantom Team Room, Evening
The clock ticked close to 1800 hours when Zayan returned to the Phantom team. His face was calm but his eyes sharp. Ubaid instantly rose, as did the others.
"Sir, what's the order from GHQ?" Ubaid asked.
Zayan placed his cap on the table and sat down.
"The Chief has made it clear: those men are spies, not trainees. They will remain here. India will scream and cry, but we hold the truth. And we hold them."
Rizwan cracked a grin, whispering, "End of story."
But Zayan raised his hand.
"No. The real story begins now. RAW never accepts failure silently. They'll strike back—through propaganda, sabotage, or another infiltration. That's where we need to be ahead of them."
He looked each officer in the eye.
"Stay alert, but in silence. Let them think they've fooled us. When they make their next move, we'll be ready. This time, we'll give them a warm welcome they'll never forget."
Ubaid clenched his fist.
"Sir, Phantom team is ready. We're just waiting for your word."
Zayan gave a rare, sharp smile.
"Good. Then let's prepare. The night may look calm, but shadows are already moving."
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