“May I come in?” said Azad as his gentle knock caused the door to swing open wider than he had intended...
STORY
“May I come in?” said Azad as his gentle knock caused the door to swing open wider than he had intended.
“When you knock, make sure you actually knock. I just want to hear a voice asking whether that person may come in, not for someone to bang the door wide open!”
Despite the immense physical strength he possessed, Azad felt intimidated by the woman. Her desk was decorated with two flags: the red flag of China on the right and the green and white flag of Pakistan on the left. Azad smiled briefly.
Mohsina handed him a document bearing the initials of the Pakistan Air Force.
“What is this, Madam Mohsina?” asked Azad as he studied the location coordinates and notes describing the green streak, its flight patterns and the exact locations where sonic booms from an unidentified aircraft, or bogey, had been detected.
Azad recognised the coordinates. They pointed towards the mountains of Balochistan, overlooking the deep-sea port where the murky waters met the rugged coastline. It was a port that would one day become one of South Asia’s busiest maritime hubs.
It was a dream of economic prosperity shared by Azad Khan and the people of Pakistan and China. A nation blessed with such resources, supported by the helping hand of a brotherly state, inspired Azad. Cranes moved steadily across the construction site as the vision of Gwadar port slowly took shape along the deep-sea coast.
However, the enemies of the young state of Pakistan repeatedly sought to derail its progress. So, Azad Khan took it upon himself to help. Azad, the son of two brotherly nations, soared through the air carrying reinforced concrete piles used to anchor the foundations beneath the seabed. One by one, he drove them deep into the ocean floor, bringing a steel framework to life. To strengthen the structure further, Azad transported enormous granite rocks into position. Bending steel with his incredible strength, he moved at such astonishing speed that the green streak he left behind vanished within the blink of a human eye. He placed massive stone slabs one after another with unmatched speed and precision. Bystanders watched in amazement as an entire port city seemed to come to life in a single night.
Azad’s wandering thoughts returned to the present as he stood once again inside the editor-in-chief’s office at Torchlight News.
“I shall investigate these findings, Madam Mohsina, and update you every step of the way,” said Azad as he slowly backed away and made his way out of her office.
Azad noticed most of the newsroom employees rushing towards the far end of the room, where the new Hallicrafters shortwave radio stood receiving incoming broadcasts.
Suddenly, the radio emitted a sharp burst of static that echoed across the newsroom. At the same moment, Azad’s enhanced senses detected something else: the faint sound of a distant explosion across the skies.
“And we interrupt this broadcast with news of escalating conflict along the Lahore-Amritsar Line of Control. A dogfight between opposing air forces has been confirmed. Pakistan is under attack. I repeat, Pakistan is under attack.”
The announcement stunned everyone in the newsroom. The room seemed frozen in time, with the only movement coming from the ticking clock, whose steady rhythm grew louder in the silence.
“MOVE! Report for your country!” shouted Mohsina as she rushed towards the lift, while her reporters hurried after her.
“Where in the blazes is Azad?” she demanded.
A tremor shook the room. Staple pins on the teak desks vibrated before rattling onto the floor. The tungsten lamps casting their eerie yellow glow flickered violently. What everyone believed to be an earthquake was, in reality, Azad streaking through the sky at incredible speed.
Azad Khan soared towards the heavens, the golden sunlight illuminating his green suit and flowing red cape. A squadron of Chinese-built J-10C fighter aircraft flew across the skies of Pakistan, each bearing the green Pakistani flag upon its wings and rudder as it pierced the air and broke the sound barrier. The jets were joined by Azad in flight as he flew with them towards Pakistan’s western border.
Azad accelerated until he flew alongside the J-10C formation. Sunlight glinted from their wings as they climbed together above the mountains, the red and green flags painted on the aircraft shining beneath the afternoon sky. Pilot and guardian acknowledged one another with a silent salute before disappearing westward, united in purpose.
“What is that?” asked a bystander near one of the towers, gazing up from the shadow cast by the enormous structure.
“It’s a plane!”
“It’s the Green Streak!”
Within moments, Azad and the squadron disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving only a fading emerald trail across the afternoon sky.
The people below would never know who the mysterious guardian truly was. To the world, he was nothing more than an ordinary reporter at Torchlight News. But whenever danger threatened either Pakistan or China, Azad Khan would once again leave behind his desk, take to the skies and defend the friendship he had watched grow for generations.
As the roar of the fighter jets faded into the distance, the green streak vanished among the clouds, carrying with it a silent promise that as long as the bond between Pakistan and China endured, their guardian would never be far away.
For some friendships are not measured by borders or by time, but by a bond that remains higher than mountains and deeper than oceans.
