Careful so the guard wouldn’t notice, he tossed his handkerchief over the side of the cart, someone would find it. In fact someone finding it with his deliberate initials monographed in the corner was part of the requirement. What fun was a hazing ritual if the poor idiot performing it didn’t get caught? Kirt pulled his hand back inside the cart, well, properly it was a CART, Central Army Ranged Truck. Each vehicle had armaments mounted for easy deployment serving as half transportation and half heavily armored weapon. They were pricey and well protected but messing with them wouldn’t get anyone court marshaled which made them perfect objects for hazing the new guy.
Kirt smiled in the darkness of the bed of the truck. His new bunk mates expect him to get caught. They were probably hiding nearby with bottles of alcohol and cameras to record the moment of his humiliation as he was dragged off to their superiors. The truck came to a stop, and Kirt readied himself to move quickly. Before the CART was left the contents it was carrying, ammunition mostly from what Kirt could identify of the boxes, would have to be unpacked and stored. There was no way that could happen without the soldiers discovering Kirt and him being subsequently dragged off. There was no way he could pull off stealing the CART once it was secured either, not without small explosions and somewhat significant property damage, neither of which Kirt was willing to risk. He breathed deep and waited.
The first high pitched alarm started screaming into the night and the two soldiers in charge of driving and unloading the CART started yelling. Protocol was a lovely thing. As the two soldiers scrambled away from the CART and into the nearby army base Kirt slipped out of the back and into the cab. He kept low, his face covered with a gas mask. Kirt chortled as a second alarm began screaming in concert with the first and smoke bombs exploded covering the yard. He didn’t waste time. The CART was out of the gates and down the main compound road in minutes. Sure, it would take a little luck, but before the night was over the CART would be before the First Lieutenant’s House with a polite apology taped to the steering wheel.
Kirt’s bunk mates should have taken into account that he always had backup. His sister’s part in the evening was more dangerous, as being caught messing with the alarms and detonating the smoke bombs could bear black marks on the beginning of her record, but Kirt knew they didn’t have a chance in catching her. As for the handkerchief with his initials so clear? Well, someone was obviously trying to frame him, right? He didn’t even own a damn handkerchief.