Two days later, as directed by Babar, Atharv had the weapons ready for him. Babar came to meet him at the hotel and was briefed on the preparations. He and the three fidayeen came by the same route that Atharv and Sameer had taken.

Satisfied that things were in order, he began to explain the plan of attack that had been approved by Al-Wali. ‘We will hit IMA at 11 a.m. on 11 February. The four fidayeen will split into two teams of two each and head to the north and south campuses respectively. They will be armed to the teeth and clad in Indian Army fatigues bearing the insignias of the lieutenant and captain ranks. They will inform the guards that they have come from Jammu with an important alert about an impending terror strike by Pakistani terrorists.

‘The bluff may carry them in or else they will kill all the army and police personnel at the entrance gate and drive into the IMA complex to kill more. Once their mission is complete, the fidayeen will escape into the Doon valley, which lies to the west of IMA, from where they will make their way to Ludhiana by road. From Ludhiana, they will take a bus to Jammu, then Sopore, where the district commander will have them escorted back to Pakistan.’

‘If the Almighty wills,’ Atharv said.

‘Finalize the preparations and check the weapons one last time,’ Babar instructed Atharv before ending the meeting.

Babar did not tell him, but Atharv found out later from Sameer that Babar had taken three additional rooms in the same hotel.

Realizing that Atharv had not been aware that the other fidayeen were staying in the same hotel, Sameer confided, ‘You know Babar, na? He is a secretive fellow by nature. He does not trust even his own shadow, to tell you the truth.

‘Also, separate rooms will ensure that even if, somehow, the authorities manage to track you down, we will still have a chance to escape and carry out the operation.’

‘Of course, brother, may the Almighty will it so,’ Atharv said.

On 11 Febraury, at 11 a.m. sharp, the battered Qualis pulled up outside the Drona Dwar of the IMA. For a few minutes, nothing moved. Shekhar, his eyes glued to a pair of military-grade binoculars, stood on a watchtower 100 metres from Drona Dwar inside the south campus and could feel his heart pounding.

A man in army fatigues jumped out from the driver’s side of the Qualis, followed by the three other occupants of the vehicle, who emerged from the back.

Whoosh … whoosh.

Sameer was startled on hearing a faint sound and turned back to the Qualis to check the source. But it was too late. He and the three fidayeen crashed to the ground. Blood was oozing out of their heads, chests and necks.