A New India
Chapter 276 - 276: Phase 2 of Operation Garbage

The clock ticked past midnight in Rohan's office.

The dim light of his desk lamp cast shadows across stacks of confidential files, while the faint noise of a fan filled the silence.

Neeraj stood by the door, observing the Prime Minister's intense focus as he scribbled notes on a pad.

The air was full of tension anticipation; Rohan was already several moves ahead in his plan.

"Neeraj," Rohan said without looking up, his voice calm but resolute. "You know as well as I do that leaks are inevitable. No operation involving this many high-profile targets can stay silent for long. And when it does leak, the narrative must be ours."

Neeraj nodded. "So, you're going to control the narrative before they can twist it?"

"Exactly." Rohan's pen stopped moving, and he looked up, his eyes sharp. "The people are already angry. They've been fed lies and misinformation for weeks. They've suffered riots, losses, and fear. Now they deserve the truth, the real truth."

Neeraj frowned. "But how? The arrests were silent. We haven't officially announced anything yet."

Rohan leaned back in his chair. "That's where Phase Two comes in. Tonight, I will personally reach out to the heads of the most influential newspapers in the country. Confidentially, of course. They'll run stories about the chaos these leaders created, complete with evidence we've been collecting for months. The people will wake up to headlines exposing the rot, and they'll demand answers. But when they realize these leaders are nowhere to be found, they'll assume they've fled. And when we reveal we've already captured them…" He smiled faintly. "The government becomes the hero."

Neeraj raised an eyebrow. "You trust these newspaper editors not to twist the narrative?"

"Trust? No," Rohan replied, his tone firm. "But they have their own reputations to uphold. Publishing this story will boost their credibility and readership. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Also they know well of my knife which I will hang above thier neck if they refuse."

By 3 a.m., the calls had been made.

The heads of the nation's most prominent newspapers, The Indian Times, Bharat Darpan, Janmat, and others had listened intently as Rohan laid out his plan.

The Prime Minister's tone was full of authority and persuasion, leaving no room for refusal.

"Gentlemen," he had said during one call, "this is not just a scoop. This is your opportunity to expose the truth and serve the people. What we are sharing with you is classified information evidence that these so-called leaders orchestrated chaos for their gain. But let me be clear: if this news doesn't reach the people, their anger will remain misdirected, and the real culprits will go unpunished."

The editors, though initially hesitant, were swayed by the weight of Rohan's words.

Also because they saw themselves in news disappearing if they didn't do so.

By the time dawn broke, the presses were rolling, printed out headlines that would grip the nation by its heart.

At 6 a.m., copies of The Indian Times hit the streets.

The bold, black headline screamed: "The Hidden Puppeteers of Chaos Exposed!"

The article detailed the involvement of politicians, businessmen, and community leaders in inciting the riots, complete with damning evidence.

Photographs of seized documents, intercepted messages, and financial records painted a picture of betrayal.

In Bharat Darpan, the front page bore a stark headline: "Traitors Among Us: The Dark Plot to Divide India."

The accompanying editorial called for accountability and justice, urging readers to stand united against those who sought to tear the country apart.

Across towns and villages, as people fetched their morning tea and glanced at the newsstands, the reaction was instantaneous.

Shock turned to outrage, and outrage turned to action.

By 8 a.m., groups of men and women had begun gathering in marketplaces, temples, and mosques, clutching the newspapers in their hands and shouting for answers.

In a small village in Punjab, an elderly farmer named Harjeet read the headlines aloud to a crowd of neighbors. "These leaders, they lied to us! They used us for their own gain!"

His voice trembled with anger. "They made us fight each other while they sat in their mansions."

A young man stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Where are they now? Why aren't they answering for this?"

"They've run away!" another villager shouted. "They knew this day would come, and they fled like cowards."

In Lucknow, a group of shopkeepers gathered in the main bazaar, their voices rising in anger. "Tiwari ji made us believe the government was against us," one said, waving a copy of Bharat Darpan.

"But look at this! He was funding the violence!"

"He told us to fight for our culture, but all he cared about was his own power!" another yelled.

By mid-morning, similar scenes unfolded across the country.

In Patna, a group of students marched through the streets, holding placards with excerpts from the news articles. "We want answers!" they chanted. "No more lies!"

In Hyderabad, a crowd gathered outside the home of a community leader named Ahmed. "Come out and face us!" they shouted, banging on the gates. "You've betrayed your people!"

The gates remained closed, and the anger of the crowd grew. "He's gone," an elderly man said bitterly. "He used us and then disappeared. Shameful!"

At the Prime Minister's residence, Rohan watched the scenes unfold.

Neeraj stood beside him, a hint of unease in his expression. "Sir, this is escalating quickly. What if the anger turns into violence?"

"It won't," Rohan replied confidently. "The people are angry, yes, but they're not fools. They've seen the evidence. They know who to blame now."

Neeraj nodded slowly. "Still, the optics… It's a bold move, sir. The opposition will accuse you of manipulating the media."

"Let them," Rohan said, his tone sharp. "The media was already being manipulated, by those very leaders. We're just giving the people the truth they deserve."

By 9 a.m., the streets was full of people with energy.

In Delhi, groups of citizens marched toward the homes of political leaders, shouting slogans and waving newspapers.

In Mumbai, dockworkers held an impromptu rally, demanding accountability from the city's businessmen.

Across the country, the narrative had shifted.

The government was no longer the villain; it was the force that had exposed the villains.

In a small tea stall in Bihar, an elderly woman spoke to a group of young men. "This government has its flaws, but look at what they've done. They've given us the truth. These traitors thought they could divide us, but now they're the ones hiding."

The young men nodded, their expressions determined. "We'll wait for the government's announcement," one said. "If they've caught these people, we need to know. And if they haven't…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Back in his office, Rohan leaned back in his chair, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Phase Two was working.

The anger that had been directed at the government was now aimed at the true culprits.

The people were demanding answers, and soon, they would get them.

Neeraj entered the room, holding a fresh report. "Sir, initial reactions are overwhelmingly in our favor. People are gathering, but it's peaceful so far. The opposition is silent."

"They won't stay silent for long," Rohan said. "But it doesn't matter. By the time they respond, the truth will already be out."

As the morning sun climbed higher, the stage was set.

The people were awake, angry, and united.

The next move belonged to Rohan, and he was ready.