Don’t get caught. DON’T GET CAUGHT. It was a simple mantra I’d repeated time and time again since I’d started on the operation, but here I was. Busted.
The room was maybe eight feet by six, about the size of a prison cell. In the middle of it was a table which I was now leaning on, trying to remain casual, trying to remain calm. The room was dark except for a single solitary lamp that was shining down on the table and I had trouble to keep my eyes open due to the incandescence of the bulb and the reflection off the shiny surface off the table. But I wasn’t calm. I was anything but calm. I could feel the pulse in my neck as my blood pressure rose and I could feel the first beads of sweat starting to form in my eyebrows.
Think Martin. THINK! There has to be a way out of this situation. But my mind was blank. I’m an intelligent man and I just couldn’t gather my thoughts long enough to pull together a coherent plan. Something, anything I could say that might get me out of this situation.
There was a click behind me and the door open and in she walked. She was a tall woman and in another light she would have been very attractive, but right at this moment she scared me. Her short, dark bobbed hair looked severe and her fine features were cold and devoid of emotion. She smoothed her skirt and slid silently into the chair opposite me and stared, her eyes boring into me and exacerbating the shame I had already felt.
“Hello there Martin. I think it’s time you and I had a little discussion, don’t you?”
I hesitated. I knew I’d been caught and there was no way out of it.
“Y-y-yes. I suppose we should. But I can expl-“
She cut me off.
“Silence, I don’t want to hear some fabrication to get you out of the situation. What I want to know,” she paused “What I want to know is, how did you think you could get away with eating my last Rolo.”