CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 58: THE AZURE JEWEL

South Block, Delhi

The monsoon had finally broken over Delhi, bringing with it the familiar scent of wet earth and the promise of relief from the oppressive heat.

Prime Minister Arjun Mehra stood at the window of his office in South Block, watching the rain streak down the glass as he contemplated maps spread across his desk.

While most of his attention these days was consumed by the intricacies of India’s industrial expansion and the delicate balance of parliamentary politics, his mind kept drifting to a cluster of dots in the Indian Ocean, dots that represented something far more significant than their size suggested.

They had acquired Chagos Archipelago during the sterling debt negotiations with Britain.

The British had seemed almost relieved to be rid of what they considered a backwater collection of coconut plantations, coral reefs, and little else. But Arjun knew better.

In his mind’s eye, he could see what Diego Garcia, the largest atoll in the chain would become a strategic linchpin that would anchor India’s naval presence in the heart of the Indian Ocean.

And that’s why he had called Admiral Katari today to know of the updates regarding the personnel they sent to this island.

A knock at the door interrupted his reverie. "Come in," he called, turning from the window.

Admiral Katari entered, his usual brisk demeanor tempered by something that looked almost like excitement. Behind him came a younger officer carrying a leather portfolio thick with photographs and charts.

"Prime Minister," Katari began, settling into the chair across from Arjun’s desk, "the preliminary surveys from Diego Garcia have exceeded our most optimistic expectations."

Arjun leaned forward, interested. "Oh, tell me."

The Admiral spread out a series of aerial photographs across the desk. The images showed black and white images of landmass dotted with coconut palms and the water that encircled it.

Since they didn’t had any jets on the island that could’ve helped them for aerial survey, they had to rely on the balloons.

"The natural harbor is extraordinary," Katari continued, his finger tracing the curve of the atoll.

"The lagoon is deep enough to accommodate our largest vessels with minimal dredging. The coral reef provides natural protection from storms and rough seas. From a purely nautical perspective, it’s ideal."

Arjun studied the photographs, overlaying them in his mind with images from a future that hadn’t yet come to pass. Concrete runways, communication towers, supply depots, all of it was possible here, given time and careful planning.

"What about the cover story?" he asked. "The agricultural research that we plan to feed the ’others’?"

"It’s proceeding as planned," Katari replied.

"Our teams are conducting studies on salt-resistant crops and sustainable island agriculture. The meteorological station is operational, providing valuable data on ocean weather patterns. To any outside observer, we’re simply conducting routine scientific research".

Arjun nodded.

"Admiral, I need you to know something. We’re not just building a naval base at Diego Garcia. It lays the groundwork for India’s future as a sea power.

Controlling the Indian Ocean means controlling the sea routes that connect Europe to Asia and the Middle East to the Far East. Our presence will keep an eye on every cargo ship, tanker, and naval ship that passes through these waters.

Katari nodded slowly. "A forward operating base."

"More than that. An unsinkable aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean. But we can’t rush things. The Americans and British are distracted by their own concerns right now, but it won’t be like that forever.

And by the time they do realize what we’ve built, it will be too late to stop us."

The Admiral gathered up the photographs. "What are your orders, Prime Minister?"

"Continue the development, but keep it low-key. Expand the airstrip gradually. Improve the harbor facilities. Build proper quarters for a permanent garrison. And Admiral?" Arjun fixed him with a steady gaze.

"Make sure our people working there understand the importance of discretion. This project succeeds only if it remains invisible."

Diego Garcia, Chagos Islands

The heat on Diego Garcia was unlike anything Vice Admiral Ramesh Gupta had experienced in his twenty-year naval career.

It wasn’t just the temperature, though that was oppressive enough, but the humidity that seemed to press against you like a wet blanket, making every breath an effort.

He’d been stationed at the newly established outpost for little over three months now, and while he’d grown accustomed to the new atmosphere, the climate still remained a daily challenge.

The noise of a generator starting up made him look at the main camp. What started out as a bunch of tents and pre-made shelters was slowly becoming more permanent.

There was a proper communications center, a small hospital, workshops, and living quarters for the growing number of staff.

They recently received the order that they are to build an airstrip, which is supposed to be made of coral and concrete. Though gathering all the required materials to build it would be anything but easy.

That evening, as the sun set over the lagoon in a blaze of orange and pink, Gupta walked the perimeter of the camp with his second-in-command, Commander Amit Singh.

The two men had served together for years, and Singh had volunteered for the Diego Garcia posting despite its hardships.

"The men are adapting well," Singh reported. "Morale is surprisingly good, considering the isolation. The fishing is excellent, and the recreational diving has become quite popular during off-duty hours."

Gupta nodded. Keeping his personnel content was crucial to the success of the mission. A disgruntled sailor was a security risk, and security was paramount.

"What about the construction schedule?"

"The harbor dredging is moving a bit behind the schedule.

We should be able to accommodate our navy vessels by the end of the year. The fuel storage tanks are complete, and the communications is operational. We’re essentially invisible to outside surveillance while maintaining constant contact with Fleet Command."

They paused at the edge of the lagoon, where gentle waves lapped against the coral beach. In the distance, an old Indian navy’s ship rode at anchor with its dark silhouette against the twilight sky.

The ship’s presence was a reminder that despite the tropical paradise setting, this was ultimately a military operation.

"Do you ever wonder what we’re really building here?" Singh asked quietly.

Gupta considered the question. He’d been briefed on the mission’s strategic importance, but he suspected there were layers to the operation that remained classified even from him.

"I know we’re creating something that will serve India’s interests for generations to come. The specifics... well, that’s above our pay grade."

"The Prime Minister’s vision extends far beyond what any of us can fully comprehend," Singh mused. "Sometimes I look at this place and try to imagine what it will become. A major naval base? A research station? Something else entirely?"

"All of the above, I suspect." Gupta picked up a piece of coral and turned it over in his hands.

"But whatever it becomes, it will be ours. Completely. And in a world where great powers rise and fall based on their ability to project strength across the oceans, that may prove to be the most valuable asset India possesses."

As darkness fell over the atoll, the sounds of the camp settling for the night mixed with the eternal rhythm of waves against coral.

In the communications center, radio operators maintained contact with the mainland, their voices carrying reports of progress and requests for supplies across hundreds of miles of empty ocean.

In the workshops, technicians serviced equipment that would support operations the world wouldn’t learn about for decades to come.

Diego Garcia was becoming exactly what Arjun Mehra had envisioned, an azure jewel that will help them dominate the oceans.

[A/N: Did we cross 400 stones?]