Circumstances had proved him right. Keller was not technically Baylor’s Chief of Staff, not yet, but he had long been a confidant of his, and he was very much on the man’s team.

“Lawrence, after this briefing, I’m going to want a smaller, private meeting in the Oval Office, where we can speak frankly with relevant parties about what needs to happen, and who should do it. You’ll know better than I who those parties are.”

Keller nodded. “Consider it done.”

The group piled into the elevator. They pressed shoulder to shoulder as the elevator descended into the Earth.

“We owe it to David Barrett to bring his daughter home safely,” Baylor said. “I want to focus like a laser on that outcome.”

The doors opened and the entire Mark Baylor entourage stepped into the egg-shaped Situation Room.

Lawrence Keller glanced around the room.

The plush leather chairs at the table all looked like the captain’s chair on the command module of a spaceship crossing the galaxy. Big arms, deep leather, high backs, ergonomically correct with lumbar spine support. Nearly all the chairs were filled with thick bodies.

The seats along the walls—smaller, red linen chairs with lower backs—were filled with young aides and even younger assistants, most of them slurping from Styrofoam coffee cups or murmuring into telephones.

Mark Baylor took a seat in a leather chair at the closest end of the oblong table. Keller stood by his side and a little behind him. People continued to talk among themselves as if the President of the United States hadn’t just entered the room.

“General Stark,” Baylor said.

The chatter went on.

“General Stark!”

At the head of the room, Richard Stark of the Joint Chiefs glanced his way. His face was jagged and hard. He smiled when he saw Baylor.

“Mr. President,” he said.

Baylor nodded. “I took the Oath fifteen minutes ago. Can you please bring this room to order? We have a lot to go over, and I feel like I’m playing catch-up.”

Stark stood. He clapped his hands. “Order, everybody! Come to order, please.”

The place went silent. Almost. A couple of young men in suits along the wall continued to whisper to each other, heads leaned in close.

Stark looked at them. “You two! Either shut up or get out.”

Startled, the two men looked up. Their eyes were wide.

Now the room went dead quiet.

Stark nodded. “Good. Welcome, President Baylor. We are very glad to have you here.”

To Lawrence Keller’s ears, the general lingered on the word very. People at the Pentagon were no fans of David Barrett. Baylor, on the other hand, was a frequent visitor to the Pentagon. As a senator, he had been a consistent advocate for increased military spending, increased recruitment, and the pioneering of new weapons systems.

Baylor nodded. “Thank you, General. Get me up to speed. Where are we with the search for Elizabeth?”