Srinagar, Jammu and Kashmir, India

12:30 a.m.

An Army ambulance screeched to a halt in front of the Emergency entrance of Srinagar Army Hospital. Two Army doctors, accompanied by ward boys and nurses, rushed toward it with a wheeled stretcher. The driver ran to the back and flung the doors open.

Major Reyansh Malhotra jumped out and helped the ward boys lift the unconscious, heavily wounded Geet from the ambulance. Another Army van stopped nearby. Major Manav Singh, Major Karan Thapar, and their superior, Brigadier S. Kumar, ran toward Reyansh.

“Quick—OT 3,” commanded Colonel Dr. Ashish Verma.

Reyansh held Geet’s right hand tightly in his left. His eyes scanned her blood-soaked body as he silently cursed himself. Fear gripped him—an unfamiliar, paralyzing fear. The fearless, ruthless Major Reyansh Malhotra was terrified of losing the love of his life.

He ran alongside the stretcher, his gaze fixed on Geet’s pale face.

“Come on, Geet… open your eyes. Just open them… don’t give up,” he pleaded.

Her face was swollen, blood oozing from the back of her head. A ward boy pressed a towel against the wound, trying to control the bleeding. Her hands were covered in scratches, one leg twisted and swollen. Her long hair lay scattered, drenched in her own blood.

They reached OT 3. Colonel Ashish halted as the other doctors wheeled Geet inside.

“Stop, Major Reyansh. I’ll take it from here,” Ashish said firmly, blocking his path.

Reyansh struggled to follow her in, his eyes glued to the stretcher until it disappeared behind the doors of the surgery wing.

“Ashish Uncle, I need to be with her. Please—let me go,” Reyansh insisted, fighting his restraint.

“Major, control yourself. I’ll take care of her. You cannot go inside. God—you’re more stubborn than your father,” Ashish said, recalling how Rishabh Malhotra had once fought him outside an OT when Avani was gravely injured.

“God damn it, Uncle! She is my wife. I need to be with her!” Reyansh shouted.

Ashish signaled for help. Major Manav and Major Karan rushed forward and held Reyansh firmly as Ashish ran inside. The OT doors shut, the red lights flashing on.

“Calm down, Reyansh. Let the doctors do their job. She’ll be fine,” Manav said gently.

Brigadier S. Kumar stepped closer. “I know this is difficult. But we are soldiers, son. We cannot show weakness. We stand strong—for our nation and for our loved ones. Gather yourself, Major.”

Reyansh collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in his hands.

“Please, God… not Geet,” he whispered, eyes closed in silent prayer.

“You both stay here. The situation is under control. The terrorists are in custody. Good job, soldiers,” the Brigadier said.

Reyansh forced himself up. Discipline took over. The three officers saluted as the Brigadier left, patting Reyansh’s shoulder.

Reyansh leaned back against the wall, his eyes fixed on the OT doors, then lifted to the ceiling.

“What am I going to tell Mom and Dad?” he murmured, Geet’s face haunting his thoughts. “Please, baby… fight. Fight for me.”

He pulled out his phone with trembling hands, scrolling to his father’s number—General Rishabh Malhotra. His uniform was soaked in Geet’s blood; his hands were stained red.

Ring.

Ring.

Despite the hour, Rishabh answered on the second ring, sitting up and adjusting the duvet beside his wife, Avani.

“Hello,” he said.

“Dad…” Reyansh’s voice shook.

“Reyansh… at this hour? Is everything all right?” Rishabh asked, dread creeping into his voice. He knew Geet was in Srinagar, covering the war zone as a senior field reporter for CNV News.

“Dad…” Reyansh struggled to find words.

“What happened? Is Geet okay?” Rishabh asked.

At the mention of Geet’s name, Avani jolted upright. “Rishabh, what’s wrong?” she asked anxiously.

Rishabh raised his hand, signaling her to wait.

“Put the phone on speaker,” Avani said.

“Dad… Geet is in the hospital. She’s serious—critical. The doctors have taken her into surgery,” Reyansh blurted, biting his lip.

“What?” Rishabh gasped.

Avani’s eyes widened, her lips trembling. “We need to go,” she said, tears pooling.

“Is Mom there?” Reyansh asked.

“Yes,” Rishabh replied.

“Mom… I’m sorry. Dad, Mom can’t come here. It’s a war zone,” Reyansh said quietly.

“But I can. Give me some time—I’ll be there by morning,” Rishabh said, already getting up.

He disconnected the call. Avani broke down. “Rishabh… we promised Manya we’d keep her safe. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let her go. I thought destiny was giving them another chance after two years. What have I done? I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”

Rishabh pulled her into his arms. “Shhh… everything will be fine,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

“Please let me come,” Avani pleaded through tears.

“No, Avani. You can’t. I’ll take you once things settle,” he said, wiping her tears.

She nodded silently, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she stood up and began packing his bag.

Meanwhile, Rishabh made urgent calls, ordering an Army chopper to be ready by 0400 hours to fly to Srinagar.