The podium loomed a mile away from her in the middle of the stage. Schneider went out and did lighting and sound checks, and then the lights went on for real. The kid made a short statement officially announcing that the Navy had selected the first female candidate for BUD/S training.

Eyeing that long walk, she threw caution to the wind. Might as well give them her best runway walk. Using her long legs to full advantage, she stalked boldly across the stage.

She glanced down at the prepared remarks and stifled a snort. I’m so grateful to have this opportunity and will do my best to make all women in the armed forces proud…

Blah. Blah. Blah. She could practically recite what the statement said without having seen it. Goodness knew, she’d written enough of these milquetoast statements in her career.

She would dress up for the Navy. She would play along with the whole poster-child thing. But if she had to actually speak to the press, she was not going to be their bubbleheaded mouthpiece. She drew the line at that. Nope, she was going to do this statement her way. She looked up from the notes and smiled at the banks of blinding lights.

She held the smile a moment extra so they could all get their recruiting-poster shots of her.

Then she said into the microphones, “I’m not sure what all the fuss is about, folks, but thanks for this big welcome to my SEAL training. I had no idea you did this for all the trainees who come through here. It’s mighty patriotic of you.”

The press corps chuckled.

From the wings off to her right, Schneider pointed frantically at imaginary notes on an imaginary podium in front of him. Sorry, kid. No can do.

She and Griffin had talked about this, and they both agreed she would be better served not letting the Navy dictate entirely how this whole rigged training gig would play out. Whatever the brass at the Pentagon had planned, it would likely come across as contrived and obviously a setup.

If this was going to appear real, she had to take control of her image and story. It was her only chance not to get eaten alive by the BUD/S instructors, fix or no fix on her passing the course.

To that end, she said briskly and completely off script, “Let’s get a few questions and answers out of way right up front. Am I honored to be here? Absolutely. The finest warriors on earth come out of this place. Am I scared? Of course. Any sane person would be, going into this kind of a test. How long have I trained for this? My whole life. Do I think I’ll make it through the training? I hope I will if I’m worthy. But that will be up to the instructors I work with.”