Heaven in Hell

TABLES TURNED!

PRESCOTT'S POV:

My heart rate was through the roof and my throat was drier than a desert. How in God's name did he come to know about my stash? If he knows about it, he might as well have found it. Now, there has got to be a weight reduction because otherwise my stash would be blamed.

While he knows that there is a stash to be found, I hope he does not ask me more about it or its location. Because, I can't lie to his face and having a stash means I would be paying in sweat and blood a lot more than I already do.

"Spot Jog" That is never good. This generally leads to a very bad question or is a result of a very bad mistake. Right now, I don't know where I fall.

When he can see me sweat and feel the heat waves off me, he asks, "What happened of the glasses of coffee you were holding last night, Prescott?"

What? I thought I could drink it. Please tell me he is only playing with my mind. If I drank coffee without his permission, the stashed snacks would be nothing.

"Chief, I drank it" I say trying not to thinking too much of the consequences.

"Both glasses?"

Oh shit! "Yes, Chief"

"So you are telling me you drank 2 glasses of coffee that were open outside where dust and anything else could fall even after it would have tasted shit? It would have been neither cold coffee nor hot coffee!"

"I thought I had your permission, Chief" Please tell me I had it.

"Did I tell you to drink it?"

"Not directly, Chief but .."

"It is a yes or no question, Prescott"

I'm breathless not just from the spotjog but from what I'm about to answer "No, Chief"

"What did you promise me that day in Colonel and others presence?"

*Gulp*

"That I wouldn't have drank coffee without your permission"

"Just how many times are you going to go against your word, huh?"

I can't answer that question honestly so I stay shut. I have failed in keeping my bold statements mutliple times.

"Did your hands stay where they were supposed to?"

"Yes, Chief"

"I noticed your arms were sticky this morning. Must be my poor eyesight, right Prescott?"

"No, Chief. I- I spilled some coffee but I swear my arms did not go down, Chief" Can this get any worse?

"So, you are saying you couldn't keep your hands still for 2 hours and yet you felt that you had EARNED 2 glasses of coffee?"

Don't make me answer this Chief!

He says nothing with his glare on me. I pick my feet up and do my best to keep the pace right knowing there is no way I can afford to spoil his mood anymore.