British Lines October 1854
The northerly wind whistled around the tent, pulling the stiff canvas against the poles and pushing a draught through the flap.
Colonel Murphy sighed and tapped his fingers on the simple deal desk that Jack thought he must have purchased in Balaklava. "So let me get this straight, Windrush. You had your men surrender to try and save the life of a British officer and then you broke out of a Russian jail by picking the locks and pretending to be Russian soldiers."
"Yes sir," Jack said. He could feel Colonel Maxwell"s approval as he sat a few feet away.
"Is there any more, Windrush?"
"Well yes, sir there is." Jack wasn"t sure how his colonel would react to the next few moments.
"Well?" Murphy looked up, coughed and looked away again.
"I have a request, sir."
