I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
I didn’t even finish counting when he turned the handle.
I watched as the whole building exploded into smithereens, an explosion that resonated even 5 miles away. Fire burned triumphantly over the debris, dancing, like a God announcing the defeat of his enemy. The air turned into grey smog as the surviving pieces of rubble floated about in the form of dust. Everything had been reduced to nothingness- just a pile of useless gravel.
The sound of the blast was deafening. Ineffably horrifying. But the following silence was what …show more content…
Who had killed a human being?
Me.
I had killed a person-not an innocent person; in fact, responsible for many more murders tan I was- but nonetheless, I had killed someone.
I sat in the dark enclave I had taken shelter in to ensure the seamless execution of ‘Operation Debut’- commonly referred to as Operation Desert Flower by my older colleagues. The name I had given seemed much more sensible. It was my first mission, after all.
For approximately 6 months, the only think I could think about was Operation Debut. Months of just whiling away time in an underground hideout with a bunch of suit and tie nitwits, bustling about with papers, and ‘statistics’, and ‘information that is very integral for any hands on operation’. I was itching to get out on to the field. I wanted to be a real secret agent- the kind that I used to pretend to be when I was six years old; rolling about the corridors of the hostel I was cooped up in, breaking the almost infuriating silence of the building with my miniature explosions, and dramatic cries of defeat or victory.
That silence, I wanted to get rid of.
The silence that was enveloping me as each second passed, above the rubble I had created-not so …show more content…
That was what I joined the Force for in the first place.
So when I was finally given the task to man the on-field plans under Operation Desert Flower, wherein the notorious Lekan Zuberi, founder of the biggest crime syndicate of the Sahara’s golden sands, was to be assassinated by means of planting a bomb in his very household. Very humble house, in fact. Just a small, one-storeyed building, marked by the years of suffering it withstood at the hands of the Mother Nature (and a few man-made attacks as
I didn’t even finish counting when he turned the handle.
I watched as the whole building exploded into smithereens, an explosion that resonated even 5 miles away. Fire burned triumphantly over the debris, dancing, like a God announcing the defeat of his enemy. The air turned into grey smog as the surviving pieces of rubble floated about in the form of dust. Everything had been reduced to nothingness- just a pile of useless gravel.
The sound of the blast was deafening. Ineffably horrifying. But the following silence was what …show more content…
Who had killed a human being?
Me.
I had killed a person-not an innocent person; in fact, responsible for many more murders tan I was- but nonetheless, I had killed someone.
I sat in the dark enclave I had taken shelter in to ensure the seamless execution of ‘Operation Debut’- commonly referred to as Operation Desert Flower by my older colleagues. The name I had given seemed much more sensible. It was my first mission, after all.
For approximately 6 months, the only think I could think about was Operation Debut. Months of just whiling away time in an underground hideout with a bunch of suit and tie nitwits, bustling about with papers, and ‘statistics’, and ‘information that is very integral for any hands on operation’. I was itching to get out on to the field. I wanted to be a real secret agent- the kind that I used to pretend to be when I was six years old; rolling about the corridors of the hostel I was cooped up in, breaking the almost infuriating silence of the building with my miniature explosions, and dramatic cries of defeat or victory.
That silence, I wanted to get rid of.
The silence that was enveloping me as each second passed, above the rubble I had created-not so …show more content…
That was what I joined the Force for in the first place.
So when I was finally given the task to man the on-field plans under Operation Desert Flower, wherein the notorious Lekan Zuberi, founder of the biggest crime syndicate of the Sahara’s golden sands, was to be assassinated by means of planting a bomb in his very household. Very humble house, in fact. Just a small, one-storeyed building, marked by the years of suffering it withstood at the hands of the Mother Nature (and a few man-made attacks as