The man looked back at his...er..."guard", harboring a strange look of anxiousness and overwhelming caution upon his face. The recruiting officer had just stepped out of the room, into his own office, and left the air of the room in a decidedly tense state.
Tugging at a coat fringe with his left hand, still more-or-less straight at his side, he began to speak, a slight Bretonian accent twisting through his speech.
"You know, my friend...in the case that I do die, which appears to be more likely with every second, I would very much enjoy a shot at what I came here for..." He flipped an eyebrow towards the office door, trying desperately to suggest a change of scenery. "With all respect, sir...I'd like you to consider taking the recuiting officer up on his offer of entrance, into his office...when possible."
The man breathed in, and let out a quick, near-inaudible sigh. He just had to take what came, now. This was his shot - whether it ended here, in that office, or in trials to come was something he'd find out soon enough.