White House Situation Room, Washington DC
"Sir, I don't mean to argue with you."
"Then don't," newly inaugurated President Peter Khalid said in as calm a voice as possible without being overly threatening. "I know I'm new to the job, but let's get something clear right now. The election is over and I don't give a damn how many of you endorsed the other guy - he lost. You ended up with the one who isn't the war hero, so learn to live with it or get the hell out."
"Sir-" Admiral Rodney james tried again.
"I'm not finished." The president stood from his seat at the head of the table in the situation room. "I'm the candidate who promised change, and that's what the American people are going to get. They're going to get it even if I have to fire everyone in this room to get a more receptive audience. Do we understand each other, gentleman?"
A chorus of "yes, sirs" came from the military leaders around the table except from Admiral Rodney James in his stiff blue dress uniform. The four stars gleamed against the dark fabric as if he spent a good bit of time lovingly buffing the symbols of his success, and they showes Rodney's commitment to service. Everything about him practically screamed tradition, honor, and most importantly, the staus quo.
Peter saw how his shoulders stayed rigidly straight as if someone was pressing their knee to the middle of his back. The defiance in his eyes held the message "don't rock the boat, especially on my watch, asshole."
"Admiral, do we understand each other?" Peter repeated.
"With all due respect, Mr. President, if you aren't interested in my opinion, then why am I here?" Rodney put his hands on the oak table and leaned forward in a way that showed he was a man used to giving orders and not getting any flack about it. "What we have is a serious situation here, and it calls for men to make a serious response. It's no time for publicity stunts or an implementation of radical changes. What you need to do is let us handle this, so the message is clear. You may be new to your job, but everyone in this room is highly trained and totally capable of handling it. All we need from you, sir, is a green light."
"You're dismissed, Admiral James." Peter rested his weight on his fingertips as he leaned forward. "Vice Admiral Garner," he said to the naval officer standing behind Rodney close to the wall. "When can you carry out my orders? Or do I go down to the next eager beaver looking to be promoted? And I mean that even if I go down to the person cleaning the toilets on the smallest dinghy in the Navy."
Vice Admiral Sawyer Garner opened his briefcase and removed a file. "A bit young, but an excellent candidate for what you have in mind, Mr. President. Captain Sullivan comes from a Navy family and I don't see a problem getting the job done once we decide on a course of action. The Jefferson will be in capable hands."