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Gabriel sat in the Laughing Lion slowly sipping his ale and reading the latest naval gazette. He was a First Lieutenant now, his last posting had been a profitable one and he had distinguished himself in a cutting out expedition. Taking a small frigate and her cutter tender from the noses of the French. He was quite content with how things were working out in the Royal Navy. His next posting was sure to be just as good, he had some friends in parliament now, and they were helping him greatly. He was a happy man.
Glancing up he ordered another ale. He had time yet, the other Glastons were meeting here tonight, to celebrate their survival of that disastrous Algiers Caper two years ago. Some of them were no longer around, being in other parts of the world on their own adventures, but it didn't matter. He knew they were safe, they had all grown up in Algiers.
Gabriel cursed and sat up quickly, startling the barmaid bringing him his drink. He set down the paper, grabbed the ale and drank it all before he leaned back over it to reread what it said. He couldn't believe his eyes, and after the fifth time reading it he just sat there, hands over his eyes, mumbling curses.
To all His Majesties Officers near or on the Mediterranean Sea.
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