THE WHITE HOUSE SECURITY GUARD STOOD AT the Pennsylvania Avenue entrance and stared in puzzlement at the man approaching on the sidewalk. He was short yet walked with a bold stride, his chest out and chin up, with an air of command. With fire-red hair and matching goatee, he reminded the guard of a bantam rooster stalking the henhouse. But it wasn’t his appearance or demeanor that most caught the guard’s attention. Rather, it was the large unlit stogie that protruded from the man’s lips.

“Charlie . . . isn’t that the VP?” he asked his companion in the guard box. But his fellow agent was on the telephone and didn’t hear him. By now, the man had approached the small entryway alongside the guardhouse.

“Good evening,” he said in a gritty voice. “I have an eight o’clock appointment with the President.”

“May I see your credentials, sir?” the guard asked nervously.

“I don’t carry that nonsense around,” the man replied gruffly. He stopped and took the cigar out of his mouth. “ The name’s Sandecker.”

“Yes, sir. But I still need your credentials, sir,” the guard replied, his face turning bright red.

Sandecker squinted at the guard, then softened. “I understand that you are just doing your job, son. Why don’t you call Chief of Staff Meade and tell him I’m at the gate?”

Before the disheveled guard could respond, his partner stuck his head out of the guard box.

“Good evening, Mr. Vice President. Another late meeting with the President?” he asked.

“Good evening, Charlie,” Sandecker replied. “Yes, I’m afraid this is the only time we can talk without interruption.”

“Why don’t you go on in,” Charlie said.

Sandecker took a step, then stopped. “See you’ve got a new man on the job,” he said, turning to the numb guard who had stopped him. The Vice President then reached out and shook hands with the man.

“Keep up the good work, son,” he said, then turned and ambled up the drive to the White House.

Though he had spent the better part of his career in the nation’s capital, James Sandecker was never one for official Washington protocol. A retired admiral, Sandecker was well known within the Beltway for the blunt manner in which he had administered the National Underwater and Marine Agency for many years. He’d been startled when the President asked him to replace his elected running mate, who had died in office. Though he lacked a political bone in his body, Sandecker knew he could be a stronger proponent for the environment and the oceans that he loved and so had readily accepted the offer.