Afsaaney

۳

Bullets zipped through the air, tearing into the dense underbrush with a deafening cacophony. The ground beneath Brigadier Arsalan Gulwani's feet was littered with the deadly menace of hidden landmines, each step a potential catastrophe. The sun's early rays barely penetrated the thick canopy above, casting an eerie twilight over the conflict zone. The mission to rescue hostages from a heavily fortified enemy compound had spiraled into chaos, despite the meticulous planning that had gone into it.

"Keep your heads down and move fast!" Arsalan's voice cut through the pandemonium, a beacon of authority and control. The urgency in his tone spurred his men forward, their faces etched with determination and fear.

They had been ambushed, the enemy force larger and better prepared than anticipated. The sound of gunfire was relentless, a grim symphony of violence and survival. Amidst the turmoil, Arsalan's eyes locked onto Captain Raza Ali, who was courageously leading a group of hostages through the fray, his limp barely slowing him down.

Raza's usually jovial demeanor had hardened into a mask of fierce resolve. His commands were clear and precise, guiding the terrified hostages through the chaos. His limp didn't deter him; if anything, it seemed to fuel his determination. He positioned himself strategically, his body a shield against the relentless barrage of bullets.

As Arsalan advanced, his sharp eyes missed nothing—the flash of muzzle fire, the shouts of his men, the cries of the hostages. The enemy was closing in, their numbers overwhelming. In the midst of the chaos, Arsalan's heart sank as he saw Raza shielding a group of officers and hostages, his stance defiant.

Suddenly, a hail of bullets converged on Raza. Time seemed to slow as Arsalan watched in horror. "RAZA, NO!!!!!" The scream tore from his throat, raw and primal, his muscles tensing with the sheer force of his despair. The sight of Raza being struck multiple times was a nightmare come to life, each impact jerking his friend's body violently.

Raza stumbled, his expression a mixture of pain and peace. He had saved those he could, his final act of bravery. Imran, hearing Arsalan's anguished cry, turned in time to see Raza slowly falling to the ground. The life was draining from his eyes, but there was a serene smile on his lips, as if he had made his peace with the world. His eyes misted over, giving his final goodbye in silence.

As the enemy retreated into the bushes, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared, Arsalan's team seized the momentary lull in gunfire. They quickly lifted Raza, moving him to a concealed shelter area, while other soldiers guarded their platoon. The sound of bullets faded, replaced by the heavy breathing of men pushing through their grief and fear.

"Raza!" Imran's voice broke as he ran to his fallen comrade, dropping to his knees beside him. Arsalan was already there, his hands trembling as he cradled Raza's head.

"We did... good," Raza whispered, each word a painful effort. His breath was shallow, his strength fading. Despite the chaos around them, a profound silence enveloped the three men, a moment suspended in time.

Arsalan's face was a study in torment, the raw agony in his eyes a stark contrast to his usual stoic demeanor. Anyone witnessing the scene would have felt their soul jolt at the sight of such unguarded emotion. "Stay with us, Raza," Arsalan pleaded, his voice breaking.

Raza's smile widened faintly, his eyes holding a peaceful farewell. "Take care of... them," he managed to say before his eyes closed, the last breath escaping his lips like a final sigh of relief.

Imran and Arsalan remained by Raza's side, their hearts heavy with grief. The battlefield faded from their awareness, the sounds of war a distant echo. They had lost a brother, a friend, a hero. In that moment, the weight of their loss was almost unbearable.