One foot wants to send me crashing down, but the other stays strong and I only wobble a little bit as I start to walk away.Peter, of course, is watching. He leaves his friends behind to meet me halfway to the door. “Everything okay?” His eyes flick behind me. “Was that guy bothering you?”I suck in a quick breath. The door is right there. I could maybe run for it.But, well, me and odds weren’t friends. I’d probably break an ankle.So I sigh and push some of the blonde hair behind my ear. “Not really. Just a little too clingy.”He nods, slowly, his eyes returning to mine.I should get out of here.But there is something in his eyes that keeps my feet firmly planted where they are. And I feel the wonderful buzz of alcohol, the way the world is fuzzy, and—oh, damn the odds.I lean in to kiss him. He responds quickly with a hand against my waist, as if he’s staking his claim. Then he slips his tongue past my lips, and as I let him in, that’s the moment I think: I’m too drunk to think. At daybreak, they sent scouts to the village, and they reported back that the trap had been successful. The narrow village street was littered with dead and wounded soldiers. Tony received that report with mixed emotions. This was a diversion only, yet it had already cost many lives on the French side. Also, the cries for help from the wounded could be heard even in San Augustin. He snapped his glass shut and sent for Captain Bell.A few minutes later, Bell, accompanied by his ensign who waved a white flag of truce, slowly approached the village. Tony could see a French officer emerging from the rubble of the collapsed houses, meeting Bell. The discussion did not take long, and Bell returned.“He will inform General Chambon of your offer, Sir. He’ll be back soon to give you their answer.”Perhaps an hour later, another French officer emerged, under flag of truce and approached the British position. Tony stood and met the man, a Colonel, half ways. The man even spoke English.“Colonel.
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