Caught

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting eerie shadows over the secluded campus. In the distance, the academy’s front gate was illuminated by harsh floodlights. Simon slowed down the truck. His heart pounded in rhythm with the thudding footsteps of the sentries who approached. He clenched his fists, a silent prayer on his lips. The sentries, stern-faced and vigilant, stepped forward, their rifles held steady. One of them, a rugged soldier with a no-nonsense demeanour, gestured for Simon to wind down the window. PFC Silva’s tone was firm as he demanded, ‘Hold up there, buddy. Where do you think you’re going at this hour?’ Simon’s pulse raced, his voice laced with urgency as he struggled to put on a facade of innocence. ‘There’s an emergency at the health centre,’ he said, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. ‘We’ve run out of critical medical supplies, and I need to get them from town.’ The sentries exchanged a glance, their suspicions evident in their furrowed brows. PFC