Severe pain penetrated his head, making him grimace, his face acquiring a degree of monstrosity. ‘Celeste… Spirita… Don’t do this,’ he utter...d painfully. He was staring at Celeste’s eyes, reading them, and thus increasing his pain. Why was she doing this to him? Indifference, he could bear, but not hatred, disgust or contempt. Then it occurred to him: the evening, the drink and his half-drunken nonsense. How could’ve he been so stupid? Could’ve she had a nightmare because of that? That made no. "Is that a nice way to thank the gunner who saved your life?" demanded Lieutenant-Colonel Stan Waterman jokingly. "Sending your father to pester her all day long?" Oh, I've already thanked her. She says I have a very talented tongue, eh." Samantha wagged her eyebrows. Before anything more could be said, the Colonel arrived in the boardroom, putting his pace stick down beside his spot on the table."If I could have your attention please, we now need to review our plans for the next draft's. More

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