Moon beam wraiths slid madly across the open field.
Ghostly silvery-white specters of illusionary delights.
In the middle of a grassy field, Jake stood beside the boxy Avro 504 two-seater and calmly checked the rounds of ammo in his Webley revolver before snapping it closed. Sliding it in his shoulder holster he glanced at the colonel and then turned his attention to the small, wiry man standing beside him.
A non-descript little man with an infinitely forgettable face, Captain Archibald Smythe needed a ride. Presenting himself to Colonel Wingate and Jake at precisely 2300 hrs. in the colonel"s office, the small man calmly informed them he needed to be deposited in a field one kilometer east of the city of Reims at precisely 0200 hrs. Reims was approximately 80 kilometers behind enemy li
