A New India
Chapter 222 - 222: Delhi Preparation

Delhi had become unrecognizable.

What was once a bustling city alive with energy had transformed into a fortress.

Military convoys rumbled through silent streets, soldiers stood guard at every corner, and the air felt heavy with anticipation.

For last 3 days, preparations had been underway for the international meeting an event of unparalleled magnitude.

Leaders from across the globe, including the Prime Ministers of the United Kingdom, France, and Israel, the Presidents of the United States and Egypt, Chairman Mao Zedong of China, and other key figures, were due to arrive in the capital.

The stakes were enormous, and every corner of Delhi bore the mark of the government's determination to ensure that nothing went wrong.

Prime Minister Rohan, pacing in his office late into the evening, had made his instructions clear during a final meeting with his security council. "This is not just about security; this is about perception. The entire world is watching, and they must see that India is capable of hosting an event of this magnitude without a single misstep. Ensure every gap is closed, every risk accounted for. Nothing can go wrong."

The heads of the Army, Delhi Police, and National Security Guard nodded, their faces set with grim determination.

Rohan turned to his Sardar Patel. "I want real-time updates, no delays. If there's so much as a loose brick on a checkpoint wall, I want to know."

"Yes, Prime Minister," Sardar Patel replied firmly.

2 days before the conference, Delhi was effectively locked down.

The roads leading into the city were barricaded, with checkpoints set up kilometers before the city's outskirts.

Military units inspected every vehicle attempting to enter.

On Karnal Road, Lieutenant Colonel Singh stood at a major checkpoint, directing operations.

His men, rifles slung across their shoulders, inspected trucks and cars with painstaking thoroughness.

"Open the trunk," Singh ordered a driver, his voice sharp but calm.

The man complied, and two soldiers began rummaging through the vehicle, checking every compartment.

One of Singh's lieutenants approached. "Sir, reports from the southern checkpoint say they found an unauthorized delivery truck trying to pass through."

"Did they detain it?" Singh asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. It was harmless, just a mix-up with credentials."

"Good," Singh replied. "But drill it into their heads no vehicle passes without clearance. I don't care if it's carrying fresh milk for the President's breakfast."

Inside the city, the transformation was even more pronounced.

Every major street and building in the diplomatic enclave of Chanakyapuri was secured.

Armed patrols moved in pairs, scanning their surroundings with vigilance.

In front of Rashtrapati Bhavan, where the conference was to be held, rows of sandbags lined the gates, and barricades reinforced every entry point.

Soldiers with binoculars and scoped rifles watched from nearby rooftops, their eyes fixed on the surrounding streets.

Colonel Debashish overseeing the inner perimeter, addressed his men. "Every vehicle entering Rashtrapati Bhavan has already been pre-cleared. But we're checking them again. No assumptions. If anyone so much as flinches the wrong way, detain them first and ask questions later."

The elite National Security Guard had been deployed to secure the venue's innermost sanctum.

Clad in black uniforms and armed with submachine guns, they patrolled the corridors of Rashtrapati Bhavan, rehearsing evacuation drills and response scenarios.

In one of the grand halls, Major Rathore, leading an NSG team, briefed his operatives.

"Our primary objective is protecting the delegates. Secondary objective: rapid response. If any breach occurs, our protocol is simple neutralize the threat immediately. There will be no room for negotiation or delay."

Rathore pointed to a map of the venue. "We've established escape routes for each delegation, with armored cars ready at all exits. Helicopters are stationed at Safdarjung Airport for emergency extraction. Rehearse these routes again tonight. I don't want anyone getting confused if this happens for real."

Meanwhile, foreign journalists flooded into the city.

The government had set up a press center near Connaught Place, where reporters from major outlets like The New York Times, The Guardian, and Le Figaro jostled for space.

At the gates of the center, Delhi Police officers meticulously checked credentials, while plainclothes security personnel blended into the crowd, watching for any suspicious activity.

Inside the press center, the atmosphere buzzed with activity.

Journalists hunched over typewriters and radios, exchanging rumors and speculations about the upcoming conference.

David Hargrove, a BBC correspondent, turned to his colleague from Le Monde. "I've covered plenty of conferences, but this? This feels like the world's fate is being decided in one room."

"It's historic, that's for sure," the French journalist replied, lighting a cigarette. "India hosting this, after everything that's happened, it's a message."

Security in Connaught Place was tight, with uniformed officers directing foot traffic and ensuring no unauthorized vehicles entered the area.

Inspector Sharma, stationed at one of the checkpoints, barked orders to his men. "Every shop is closed until further notice. No exceptions. And check those alleyways just because they look empty doesn't mean they are."

Nearby, soldiers patrolled the streets with rifles slung over their shoulders, their eyes scanning every doorway and rooftop.

The locals, though inconvenienced by the restrictions, largely complied, understanding the complication of the situation.

Elderly men gathered in doorways, muttering about the unprecedented lockdown.

"They've brought the whole world here," one man said, adjusting his turban. "Let's just hope we don't end up regretting it."

As night fell, the city grew quieter, but the activity within the command center intensified.

Located in a fortified building near North Block, the central command center was the nerve center of the entire operation.

Officers monitored maps, radio feeds, and real-time updates from checkpoints and patrols.

Colonel Rajiv Mathur paced between the desks, his sharp eyes scanning the reports coming in.

"Checkpoint Six reports clear," an officer called out.

"Good," Mathur replied. "What about the convoy routes?"

"Convoy One's path has been secured. We've doubled the patrols along Ring Road and placed additional units at critical intersections."

Mathur nodded. "Maintain those positions. If there's so much as a flicker of movement where it shouldn't be, I want to know."

Suddenly, a red light flashed on one of the monitors. "Unregistered vehicle approaching Lutyens' Zone," an officer reported, his voice tense.

"Stop it immediately," Mathur ordered.

Minutes later, the situation was resolved, a delivery truck had accidentally taken a restricted route.

Mathur sighed but didn't let his guard down. "These mistakes can't happen tomorrow. Triple-check every clearance."

The preparations extended to the skies as well. Indian Air Force pilots flew continuous sorties over the city, scanning for any aerial threats.

Anti-aircraft units were deployed at key locations, their guns manned and ready.

A single unauthorized plane would be met with immediate action.

The next morning, Prime Minister Rohan stood on the balcony of his residence, surveying the quiet streets below.

His personal security detail, armed and alert, stood at every entrance. Sardar Patel arrived with a final briefing.

"Everything is in place," he said. "Troops are stationed at every checkpoint. Rashtrapati Bhavan is secure. The first delegations arrive tomorrow."

"And the press?" Rohan asked.

"They've been managed. Their movements are being monitored closely."

Rohan nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. The eyes of the world are on us. Let's make sure we don't blink."