llowing morning, as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains of Michael's Delhi apartment, he was already making his next moves. The international stage had begun to shift in his favor. Pakistan was teetering on the edge of collapse, and Michael's efforts were now entering a new phase. A phase where subtlety would give way to more direct influence—where governments would fall, borders would shift, and alliances would be forged or broken based on the delicate web he had spun.
His phone buzzed on the sleek glass table before him. The encrypted line connected to the Indian Prime Minister's office.
"Mr. Ogunlade," the voice at the other end said, sharp and precise. "The situation in Pakistan has become untenable. We're getting word that some military factions are already discussing defection. Our intelligence indicates that the generals are beginning to splinter."
Michael took a long breath, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him. The generals' fracturing power was exactly what he needed. The key to finalizing the destruction of Pakistan's influence in the region lay in carefully orchestrating their internal disintegration. The military's fragmentation would make it impossible for them to act cohesively again—opening the door for India to solidify its dominance.
"We're ready to move," Michael said, his voice cold and methodical. "First, I want full control over the diplomatic talks. I'll need access to the Chinese embassy here and their channels of communication with Pakistan. Get me a secure line to Beijing."
"Understood," the voice replied, hesitant but obedient. "And what about the military side?"
"The situation in Kashmir has shifted. The Pakistani forces are retreating. Now is the time to hit them where it hurts most. In the next twenty-four hours, make sure that the Indian military conducts a final push that leaves Pakistan with no option but to sue for peace. We'll make sure the world sees India as the victim, not the aggressor."
Later that day, as Michael prepared for his meeting with the Indian government officials, he received a message that he had been waiting for. The Pakistani Prime Minister had called for an emergency session of parliament. The military was in the process of surrounding Islamabad. The cracks were beginning to widen, and Michael had already begun reaching out to some of the key figures in the Pakistani military who would be willing to take the next step—those who had seen the writing on the wall.
A flicker of tension rippled through the corridors of power in Islamabad. A handful of generals were pushing the Prime Minister to declare martial law. Another faction, one backed by Michael's influence, was waiting for the right moment to make their move. Once the Prime Minister was neutralized, Michael could install a puppet government—a regime that would be pliable and easily controlled. The balance of power would shift entirely in India's favor.
In Delhi, Michael made his move, visiting the Prime Minister's residence under the guise of a routine intelligence briefing. Inside the stately building, adorned with portraits of Indian independence leaders, Michael laid out the plan for the final phase of the operation.
"The time has come to finish what we started," Michael said, his eyes glinting with a dangerous resolve. "Pakistan is on the verge of collapse. Their military is divided, and their government is scrambling. We need to act quickly to prevent them from rallying support in the region."
The Prime Minister, a man who had always shown deference to Michael's recommendations, nodded gravely. "What are you suggesting, Mr. Ogunlade?"
"I'm suggesting we lock down their alliances. We can't allow China or Russia to step in and provide any last-minute support. India needs to be the only power standing by the end of this."
The Prime Minister gave a sharp nod. "And Pakistan?"
"We pressure them further," Michael said with a calculating smile. "Their generals are already considering alternatives. It's time to make sure they have no choice but to step down. The more isolated they become, the easier it will be to seize control of the region. If we let them bleed long enough, they'll beg for peace."
The Prime Minister's eyes narrowed as he considered Michael's words. "You're asking me to push them to the brink, Ogunlade. There's no going back once we do this."
Michael's gaze remained unwavering. "There was never a choice. We're not just securing India's future, we're securing our place in the world."
The Prime Minister stood up from behind his desk, his face hardening with resolve. "Do it. What do you need from us?"
"I need full diplomatic and military support. No hesitation. And most importantly, I need your assurance that the world will know India acted in self-defense, and Pakistan was the aggressor."
The final push began that evening. The Indian military launched a swift and calculated offensive in Kashmir, catching the Pakistani forces by surprise. As India advanced, the global media began to paint the situation in black-and-white terms. Pakistan, unable to mount a cohesive defense, was forced to pull back from its positions. The Pakistani generals, facing defeat and internal division, began to fracture further. The Prime Minister was left with no choice but to order a ceasefire, but it was already too late.
India had won, and the world was watching.
Back in Islamabad, the first rumblings of a military coup began. The generals, realizing the situation had spiraled beyond their control, moved swiftly to eliminate the Prime Minister. They had no choice but to install a new leader—one who would be sympathetic to India's interests. Michael had ensured that his allies in the military would be waiting for this moment, ready to take control.
When the announcement came, it was like a lightning strike. The Pakistani government had collapsed. Martial law was declared. The new leader, a figurehead installed by Michael's operatives, vowed to restore order. But the reality was that Pakistan had become a puppet state, with India holding all the strings.
Michael leaned back in his chair in his Delhi apartment, watching the broadcast on a secured channel. The deed was done. The world would see India as a victor in the conflict. Pakistan would never again pose a threat to India, and Michael had ensured that it would never rise again to challenge the new world order.
That night, as the lights of Delhi flickered below him, Michael made a single, quiet call to the Nigerian President's office. He had secured the region. India's influence would only grow from here on out. The next phase of his plan was already in motion—Nigeria's geopolitical ascendancy would soon be a reality, thanks to his work in India.
"Mr. President," the voice crackled through the line. "What's next?"
Michael's lips curled into a thin smile. "Next, we take what is rightfully ours. The future is ours to control."