Jwala Vayu
Chapter 8
Inside the heavily guarded military jail, Suraj made his usual security rounds. He reached a separate high-security cell and smirked.
“Enjoying your villa?” he asked.
Pratap sat on his cot, stretching lazily. “Not quite a suite, but it’ll do. Solitude makes one think.”
Suraj leaned in. “I hope you’re thinking about how karma finally caught up to you.”
Pratap chuckled. “Karma is just a story people tell themselves, Captain.”
Suraj scoffed. “Enjoy your lunch.”
Not far from the Cantonment Area, a group of rebels gathered in an abandoned warehouse. Their leader, Dan, mapped out their objective.
“We move in, secure the security zones, and replace the guards. Once inside, I’ll meet Suraj—he has the access codes.”
One of his men hesitated. “What if Sanju and his team show up?”
Dan smirked. “Then we make sure they’re too late. No mistakes.”
Sanju and Rahul stood in an open training ground, a box of machine guns between them.
Sanju lifted a rifle. “After a bit of exercise, I think I can handle these.”
Rahul rolled his eyes. “It’s about aim and precision, not muscles.”
Sanju nodded. “Suraj told us to be ready. The storm isn’t our only enemy anymore.”
Mona smirked. “Enough talk. Shoot.”
For hours, they trained relentlessly, perfecting their aim before retreating into armored trucks as the storm hit.
Later that night, Suraj sat in his security cabin, watching the prison monitors. A supply truck approached.
Suraj checked the schedule. “Right on time.”
But as the truck entered, the cameras went black.
“Damn it.” Suraj stood up just as tranquilizer darts shot through the air, knocking out security personnel.
Inside, Dan’s team neutralized the guards and reached the warehouse, where they planted a ticking bomb.
Dan entered Suraj’s cabin.
Suraj stepped out of the bathroom and froze. “Who the hell are you?”
Dan smirked. “Just a guy who’s about to kick your ass.”
They clashed violently, wrecking the room. Suraj grabbed his gun, but Dan knocked it aside. More henchmen entered. One aimed, firing a dart.
As darkness overtook him, Suraj gasped, “You can’t free Pratap…”
Dan frowned. “Who said we’re here for Pratap?”
The rebels unlocked a high-security cell. A tall man stepped out.
Rehmaan Kazi, an ex-Afghan military officer turned terrorist, stretched his arms. “Subhan Allah… I thought I’d rot in this Indian prison.”
Dan grinned. “We barely survived the storm, but we planned your escape.”
A voice interrupted, “4865.”
Rehmaan turned. Pratap leaned against the bars. “That’s the code for my cell. I can get you better resources.”
Rehmaan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need liabilities.”
Pratap smirked. “You will. Trust me.”
Rehmaan hesitated. Then nodded. “Fine. But no dead weight.”
Suraj regained consciousness just in time to grab a radio. “Sanju… we have a problem.”
Sanju and Rahul raced toward the Cantonment Area in armored trucks.
Through a hacked camera feed, Pratap watched them approach.
“Oops,” he grinned. “That’s my car.”
Rehmaan turned to Dan. “Get more prisoners out. We’ll need reinforcements.”
Dan frowned. “The storm’s coming.”
Rahul slammed the brakes. “Now!”
From another truck, miniature explosives launched into the sky. They detonated mid-air, creating a shockwave that disrupted the storm.
Rahul grinned. “That was some innovative stuff.”
Sanju, Rahul, and military reinforcements stormed the base.
Gunfire erupted as they fought through the disguised guards.
Rahul growled, “I swear, I’ll kill Pratap myself!”
Sanju stopped. Among the dead guards, a symbol stood out.
“Kazi…” Sanju whispered. “This isn’t just about Pratap.”
Suraj stumbled toward them. “There’s a bomb in the warehouse—15 minutes left!”
Rehmaan and Dan ran deeper into the ammunition storage. Sanju tackled Rehmaan, engaging in a brutal fight.
Rahul fought Dan in the kitchen area, both wielding knives. Dan slashed at him, but Rahul dodged, landing a deep stab to the gut.
Dan wheezed, “I’m going to kill you…”
Rahul grabbed a nearby throwing knife. “Screw you.”
He hurled it—striking Dan in the chest. Dan collapsed, lifeless.
Mona’s voice crackled. “Suraj, the storm is coming back!”
Suraj had an idea. He loaded a heavy explosive into a vehicle.
Mona remotely hacked the truck’s controls. “I can drive it out!”
Rehmaan grabbed a Gatling gun, firing wildly. “You all die today!”
Sanju dodged, rolled a grenade near Rehmaan’s feet, and sprinted toward a locker.
The explosion rocked the base. Rehmaan smirked. “You missed.”
Sanju grinned. “I didn’t.”
The storm hit full force, disintegrating Rehmaan instantly.
Mona remotely guided the explosive truck out of the base. The bomb timer hit zero.
A massive fireball erupted.
Pratap watched the explosion. “MY CAR!”
The soldiers secured escaped prisoners, dragging them back to lockdown. Rahul leaned against Pratap’s cell.
“How’s it going?” he smirked.
Pratap scowled. “You **blew up my car, my facility, and used my tech—**while I have no authority.”
Rahul grinned. “If you weren’t a selfish bastard, you might’ve had authority.”
Pratap sneered. “You’ll need me soon. You’ll beg. I’ll hear that magical word—please.”
Rahul laughed. “Let me know if ‘Please’ guy needs more books.”
Venkat entered the Parliament chamber.
The PM and President turned to him. “Yes, Mr. Venkat?”
Venkat looked pale. “We analyzed the storm particles.”
The President frowned. “What did you find?”
Venkat took a breath. “Jwala Vayu isn’t natural. It’s man-made. And worse… it contains traces of human DNA.”
Both leaders froze in shock.
Jwala Vayu
Chapter 9
The President’s hands trembled as he looked at Venkat. “Man-made? How?”
Venkat took a deep breath. “Years ago, a team of global scientists was sent to an experimental research facility in Alaska—funded by the USA, UK, and India. Their mission was to study a rare atmospheric anomaly trapped under ancient ice layers. But… they never returned.”
The PM frowned. “Who did we send?”
Venkat pulled up a classified file. “Among them were four Indian experts—handpicked by a secret global climate coalition. The head of India’s climate department, who was found dead in his office months ago, was one of them.”
Sanju and Rahul exchanged glances.
“This just keeps getting worse,” Rahul muttered.
Rahul suddenly screamed, “HELL NO!!!”
Sanju smirked. “Haha! I win again!” He slammed the last UNO card down, celebrating.
Mona shook her head. “Well, I’m glad we found games to pass the time. Otherwise, we’d be bored to death checking storm timings and reports all day.”
Sanju laughed, but his smile faded as his phone buzzed.
Venkat’s name flashed. Serious Mode: ON.
“Yes, Venkat Sir?”
A massive video conference was arranged. The President, PM, state representatives, Roy, Sanju, Rahul, Bala, and other officials joined. The room was tense.
Venkat shared his screen. Satellite images, classified reports, and research notes appeared.
“As I said earlier, the Alaska mission was supposed to be a simple weather anomaly study. But something went terribly wrong.”
He pointed to an old map of Alaska. “This location held an ancient storm, locked away under the permafrost. A scientist—one of our own—accidentally activated it, releasing what we now call Jwala Vayu.”
Sanju’s jaw clenched. “So a human caused this?”
Bala exhaled. “The storm was never meant to be found. Someone’s curiosity killed the world.”
Rahul gritted his teeth. “That one mistake has cost us millions of lives. Entire cities wiped off the map. Families destroyed. And no one even knew it existed?”
Venkat shook his head. “The reports were buried. But our data now confirms one horrific truth.”
He tapped the screen, zooming in on a microscopic image of storm particles.
“This storm isn’t just air, dust, and acid. It has organic elements—traces of human DNA.”
The room fell silent.
Sanju whispered, “You’re saying this storm is… alive?”
Venkat nodded. “More than that. It doesn’t just destroy—it hunts. It adapts to human presence. That’s why it doesn’t stop at just killing—it disintegrates, like a predator consuming its prey.”
Rahul clenched his fists. “Who were the team members?”
Venkat pulled up photos of Indian scientists. “We found some names from old records. The head of the Indian Climate Department, who you found dead, was the team lead. He recruited others from India.”
Sanju nodded. “We need to track down surviving members.”
Sanju, Rahul, and Mona began tracing the names of past employees. But the truth was grim—most were already dead. Their families knew little about their secret research.
Mona sighed. “Most of them are gone. What next?”
Sanju flipped through files. “Check their emails. Any connections to other global teams.”
Sanju’s phone rang again. The USA Climate Agency Director spoke.
“Mr. Sanju, we searched our classified archives. We found a photo of the original team, taken before they left.”
On the big screen, a grainy old team photo appeared.
Mona pointed. “Four Indian experts were part of this.”
The USA official nodded. “Their analysis was unmatched—that’s why we recruited them. But when the team never came back, we stopped looking. And now… we’re seeing the consequences.”
Rahul crossed his arms. “You could have warned us sooner. During COVID, you ignored global requests for help. And now this?”
The official looked ashamed. “We failed. We are… sorry.”
Sanju exhaled. “Apologies won’t bring back the dead. But we need all hands on deck now.”
They began cross-referencing living experts.
Sanju and Rahul worked tirelessly, searching for clues.
A volunteer approached Kiara. “Ma’am, we found an employee record.”
Kiara took the file to Sanju. “This man—Imraan Khan Malik, Hyderabad. Climate research expert.”
Mona’s eyes widened. “Good news—he’s alive!”
Bala and Sanju immediately flew to Hyderabad. They reached Malik’s residence and were shocked to find him in a wheelchair.
“I survived… barely,” Malik murmured. “I saw two USA team members vanish, just like what’s happening now.”
Bala’s eyes widened. “The whole Indian team survived?”
Malik nodded. “No… three of us. One died.”
Sanju’s stomach dropped. “Who?”
Before Malik could respond, a deafening roar filled the air.
Jwala Vayu descended violently, ripping through Malik’s residence.
Sanju and Bala rushed his wife to safety inside a bunker. But when they turned to help Malik…
His wheelchair was empty.
They watched in horror as Malik’s body disintegrated into the storm.
The Final Name—And a Dark Connection
As the storm settled, Sanju turned to Malik’s wife. “Who was the one who died?”
She wiped her tears. “Someone from Maharashtra. He funded the operation back then—his tech and machines were used.”
Sanju froze.
Back in Pune, the USA team searched their archives.
One official frowned. “We found an old team report. James Hayes was another survivor. He blamed one scientist.”
The screen flickered. The name appeared. Ashok. Ashok Shirke.
Sanju and Rahul whispered in unison: “ASHOK SHIRKE?!?!”
Pratap Shirke’s father. The man who started it all.