Except for the two men standing behind podiums bearing the respective seals of their offices, the front of the room was barren. On the media side of the camera lens, the term “wall to wall journalists” was not an exaggeration when applied to the mass of journalists and their support crews. As predicted, the meeting between Governor Thomas of Idaho and President Chris Littleton had become an unparalleled media event.

In another room in the capitol building a number of selected dignitaries watched the proceedings on TV like millions of their fellow countrymen. Standing in the middle of the room, the President’s chief of staff mused wistfully, “It’s too bad he’s already in his second term. This alone would have made him a shoo-in.”

Though still exhausted from his efforts of the past two weeks, Scott managed a polite smile, but that was all. Such men, he thought as he tried to pay attention to the historical event unfolding, will never be able to rise above their own pettiness.

Bored by the words that he felt were little more than political posturing, Nathan nudged his father. “I hope you don’t feel bad that I didn’t wait for your division. At the time, I wasn’t being very particular about who came down the street, looking to save me from myself.”

Thankful for this opportunity to turn aside the dark thoughts that were troubling him, Scott turned to face his son. “Well,” he replied, straight faced, “I hope you’ve learned something out of this.”

“Yes sir, I have,” the younger Dixon quipped. “Tanks are like American Express cards. Don’t leave home without one.”

Jan was satisfied to stand by in the back of the room and watch the proceedings from afar. She had done her job as a journalist, and done it well. It was time for someone else to tend to the business of taking the news of the day to their fellow Americans. Besides, she was more than satisfied with watching father and son chatter. It would be good to be back home again. With each passing crisis, Jan found that it was the things that she had ignored while pursuing a career that were becoming more and more important to her. Turning to Nancy Kozak, who had also opted to hang back and stand against the wall next to her, Jan asked if she was sure she was making the right move.

The former National Guard officer shrugged. “Well, your husband has warned me that General Poulengy can be a bastard to work for. But,” she said as a smile began to appear at the corner of her lips, “I’ll be glad to be back where I belong. I miss the Army. As stupid as many of its policies in peacetime are, as unforgiving as it is when it’s finished with you, I love it.”