The office floor to the Gendarmerie Nationale shone in the afternoon sunlight. Freshly mopped and kept free of clutter, this care helped impose the belief that, although France was under siege, the country was still maintaining a level of dignity and hoped the example would help the rest of her allies do the same.
Lieutenant Colonel Danjou stormed through the front doors, resembling nothing less than some medieval bog monster. Mud and debris clung to his uniform and hair, with only his eyes, blazing white hot with fury, shining out of the morass to prove there was indeed a man under that mess.
Drying dirt flaked off him with every footstep and went bouncing and sliding across the marble floor. Soldiers either scuttled out of the creature’s way to keep their own immaculate uniforms clean,
