It was this newer, shinier version of Neal that had spent the last hour at Laurie’s memorial service. He stood alone, Madeline being unable to face another mass so soon after James’, but at the wake afterward, Admiral Hamilton had taken the opportunity to introduce Neal to the president, his chief of staff, and several other notable persons. The import of being shown around by the powerful admiral was not lost on Neal, and he had shone with unusual charm and professionalism. Unusual for him, anyway, his efforts not lost on the admiral.

As the crowd started to disperse, General Pickler and Colonel Milton approached him.

“Neal, good to see you again, though I wish it weren’t under such circumstances.” said the general.

“Indeed, General, how are you?” Neal said, shaking first the general’s hand, then the colonel’s. Colonel Milton’s grasp was firm, and their eyes locked a moment. Neal found the man reassuring, knowing that they shared a mutual respect, though unclear if he deserved it from this auspicious man.

He did not share an equal measure of respect for the general, finding him somewhat bluff. But something about the colonel told Neal he was a man to be trusted, a friend, even, though not one to be gained easily. Yes, Barrett was high on the list of candidates he and Madeline had put together for bringing into their confidence.

“Listen, Danielson,” said the general, “this isn’t the place to talk shop, but I wanted to make sure you were getting prepped for the upcoming White House staff interviews. I saw the admiral showing you around, which is good, but you should know I have my name on your list of references. I don’t want you to make me look bad.”

“I will try my best not to show you up, General.” said Neal, surprising himself at how well he hid the facetiousness in his voice. The colonel’s eyes, though, betrayed the slightest smile. Apparently Neal still needed some work on his diplomacy.

“That said, the colonel here is quite the scientist as well, aren’t you?” continued the general, obliviously, “Unfortunately, we can’t nominate military men to the advisory positions. So the next best thing will be having him help you prep. I expect you’ll have availability while you’re here, right, Colonel?”

It was the colonel’s turn to mask his reaction, but his politicking was far more practiced than Neal’s. With perfect composure, he nodded firmly and said, “Of course, sir, plenty of time.”

“Good, good,” smiled the general, pleased with himself. “You can make an evening of it. Well, I’ll leave you two to discuss … all that, shall I?”

With that, General Pickler was shaking Neal’s hand again. Then he responded to the colonel’s precise salute with a tap of his hand against his forehead, and walked off.