‘A group of teenagers stumble upon something they shouldn’t have... and your solution is to kill them?’

The words were out of Mitchell’s mouth before he could stop himself. He had the look of a man who couldn’t believe he’d just spoke. He stared a spot on the bunker floor, willing it to open up and swallow him whole.

All eyes were on him.

The silence sucked the air out of the room, tension left suspended in it’s wake. An axe poised to fall.

A low chuckle punctured the quiet, all eyes moved.

The Director was laughing.

The tension eased slightly. The axe floated like a feather.

‘It’s nice to know there’s someone in our midst who isn’t afraid to speak their mind’

Mitchell chanced a glance upwards, looking the Director in the face.

‘You’re right of course’ the Director continued, smiling. ‘Three kids climb a chainlink fence and poke around in a seemingly abandoned aircraft hanger - it’s hardly the worst crime in the world. They found more than they bargained for, and that is unlucky.’

He let his words hang in the air.

‘What’s your name, Private?’

‘M... Mitchell, Sir’

‘I believe we make our own luck. Do you agree Private Mitchell?’

Mitchell shuffled, uneasy.

‘Yes, sir’

‘ Good. So, with that established, what do we do about these unlucky lucky boys?’

He looked around at the sea of unsure faces. Nobody quite knew what to expect.

‘Private?’ The director smiled again.

‘Yes sir’

‘The prisoners are in room 503, go and speak with them. They ought to be scared straight enough by now. Explain to them that they aren’t to breathe a word of what they’ve seen today to anyone, then escort them from the premises.’

‘....Yes sir’

Private Andrew Mitchell hurried out of the room, before any minds were changed.

The director’s smile dropped. Feather became axe once more. He looked to each of his men in turn, slowly. A challenge. One that all knew not to accept.

His eyes came to rest on the man closest to him. Tall and grizzled. His lieutenant.

The director gave a nod.

Grizzly grunted and two armed guards snapped to his side.

The director smiled once more. His eyes remained cold.

The three selected men checked their weapons and left the room, the same way Mitchell just had.

‘Compassion has its value, but not here’ The Director spoke deliberately, his voice steely but calm. ‘And naivety? Naivety is...’

A single gunshot echoed from the corridor

‘...intolerable.’

He spat on the floor.

‘Let that be a lesson to you all’