SPIN
“Why did I know you were going to say that?” I lamented. I was starting to get the feeling that spending time with Caz was never going to get easier. “Who can we tell that would believe us?” I whispered.
“No one,” she replied. “We need proof.”
I looked at her before peering into the room once again. The general was leaning back in his chair, his feet up on his desk, polished so fine that they were like a mirror. I ducked back, worried that he could see me in them. “We need to break into his office, don’t we.”
The helmet across from me bobbed the affirmative. Sometimes it was no fun being right.
“The night is cooling off. Close the window for me, would you?” The general leaned forward, putting his feet back on the floor. A loud creak emerged from the chair as his weight shifted.
“Of course, sir.” His face remained bland as he walked towards where we were crouched. There was no time to hide, so we did the only suitable thing. When the aide reached the window, we saluted him crisply and walked away resolutely once he had returned the gesture. Once around the corner of the building, we stopped holding our breath.
“That was too close,” I remarked, but she wasn’t listening. She was already formulating the plan for getting the proof we needed. “Let me know when you think of something,” I said, leaning against the building, falling flat on my face when the hidden door popped open.
“I’ve thought of something,” said Caz.
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