I opened my eyes to the smell, thick and cloying, of burnt oil. My heart stopped in my chest. I squeezed the hilts of the two swords that the boy had given me, clinging to them for dear life. This smell had been described to me many times, though I had never been the one to smell it.
Chapter 8: Walter Carries a Grudge
When I was sixteen, in 1964, I joined the navy. I was Polish, which made my joining the Russian navy an unusual event, to say the least. But I had a hunger for greatness. I wished to be someone, to make my mark on the world.