-Dead men tell no tales-
Observation, deduction, reasoning. I clung onto these words as my mood darkened with every drop of sweat I spent. After many hours of bluff and counter bluff I don’t think any of the three of us were quite sure were we stood. Breaking the silence the fat controller barked orders in his broken english to announce our final test.
“You are three rational men A,B and C. You have come to a disagreement and our now faced with a stand-off.”
He paused for a second coughing and without warning he began swearing frantically at an unseen accomplice, seemingly unaware that the loudspeaker was still on. Tired eyes met across our table but we had all exhausted our reserves; a sly smirk just wasn't worth the effort. Finished with his tirade, our taskmaster returned his attention to his subjects.
“You will each draw your weapons in the knowledge that you have only one bullet each. You will then fire in alphabetical order, A,B and C.”
It was all too much for my starved brain to digest. I could barely hear his words over the deafening thump of my heart as it threatened to burst right out of my chest.
“You can chose not to shoot by raising your hands. However, the first person to fire his weapon will be afforded a second bullet, should he survive to the next round.”
With that, three blinding spotlights flicked on to reveal our positions, each with a small wooden stool and a revolver on top.
“Remember, we have one opening for one man. Now, go to your stations and check your weapon. The first round begins when A is ready.”
I made it to my position in good time to inspect my gun, all the while weighing up my options. The others followed slowly as if they were feeling as punch-drunk as I was. On the other hand, my gut was telling me they were buying time, for I was A and their lives were in my hands.
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