He read the first page of the newspaper carefully. Maybe, there was some news he could help the Anti-Terrorist Squad with. It carried the news of 14 people being killed in a suicide terrorist strike. "May allah guide them and show them the right path", he prayed silently. His memory went back few years in time, litte more than 3 years when he was handpicked to be a fidayeen in the 'holy battle' as the chief called it.
He had recieved 8 months of intensive training. He knew how to operate the most complex of weapons. That was after he was picked from an elementary school and groomed for years together. But such training was essential. After all, the job he was destined to do was not ordinary. He was supposed to be a suicide bomber in an important rally of a prominant national leader. He had to send the message loud and clear to the top bosses in the country. He was one of the most trusted ones of the chief, who was in charge of overseeing all the activities in the region.
The bomb had been perfectly planted. It was planted a day in advance when people would have been unsuspecting. The trigger was a cell phone. Just a press of the dial button on the phone would do the job. The expected impact was in the 50 meter radius. That would mean 100-150 people would be killed including the leader. Maybe, the top bosses in th country would hear then. If not, the chief would have something bigger in store, though he may not be there to see it happen. But he, as a soldier in the battle was more than elated on being a shaheed.
He did the last Namaz of his life, as the chief had instructed him. He reached the rally well in time to assess the situation for half an hour before pressing the 'dial' key from his cellphone. The time approached. But he was calm. He was giving qurbaani after all. The thought of hundereds of innocents being killed did not come to his mind. He had been sufficiently brainwashed by the local Mullah and the chief. He was mentally prepared for the immense responsibility, and to get the great honour he deserved. He intended to hear the sound of the blast. The last time he would ever hear before becoming a fidayeen.
The countdown began -
3
2
1
He headed to press that green button on the cell phone when for some unexplained reason the mobile switched off. The mission had failed. Little did he realize that he had forgotten to charge his cell phone and the battery had gone off. He thought it was Allah's way of telling him that he was wrong, his patch was wrong, things taught to him were wrong, and the mullah who led him to believe the path what people called terrorism was wrong. It was evil. A sin. Then he walked away from the place before the chief could reach him, and went to an unknown place to live a completely new life, a life of anonymity but honorable in his own eyes.
He had recieved 8 months of intensive training. He knew how to operate the most complex of weapons. That was after he was picked from an elementary school and groomed for years together. But such training was essential. After all, the job he was destined to do was not ordinary. He was supposed to be a suicide bomber in an important rally of a prominant national leader. He had to send the message loud and clear to the top bosses in the country. He was one of the most trusted ones of the chief, who was in charge of overseeing all the activities in the region.
The bomb had been perfectly planted. It was planted a day in advance when people would have been unsuspecting. The trigger was a cell phone. Just a press of the dial button on the phone would do the job. The expected impact was in the 50 meter radius. That would mean 100-150 people would be killed including the leader. Maybe, the top bosses in th country would hear then. If not, the chief would have something bigger in store, though he may not be there to see it happen. But he, as a soldier in the battle was more than elated on being a shaheed.
He did the last Namaz of his life, as the chief had instructed him. He reached the rally well in time to assess the situation for half an hour before pressing the 'dial' key from his cellphone. The time approached. But he was calm. He was giving qurbaani after all. The thought of hundereds of innocents being killed did not come to his mind. He had been sufficiently brainwashed by the local Mullah and the chief. He was mentally prepared for the immense responsibility, and to get the great honour he deserved. He intended to hear the sound of the blast. The last time he would ever hear before becoming a fidayeen.
The countdown began -
3
2
1
He headed to press that green button on the cell phone when for some unexplained reason the mobile switched off. The mission had failed. Little did he realize that he had forgotten to charge his cell phone and the battery had gone off. He thought it was Allah's way of telling him that he was wrong, his patch was wrong, things taught to him were wrong, and the mullah who led him to believe the path what people called terrorism was wrong. It was evil. A sin. Then he walked away from the place before the chief could reach him, and went to an unknown place to live a completely new life, a life of anonymity but honorable in his own eyes.
That was pretty scary man!
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