“Remove your uniform,” the Admiral commanded. She smiled calmly and replied, “You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

The Confrontation at the Summit

Admiral Callahan’s office is on the top floor. Three stars on his shoulder, 62 years old, countless decorations. A man who believed himself to be a god. The windows overlooked the harbor, the same place that was once consumed by fire.

I knocked on the heavy oak door. “Come in,” a gruff voice replied.

The Admiral had his back to me. His hands were clasped behind his back, watching the fleet. There was no hurry. No panic. Just the chilling calm of a man used to getting his way.

“Lieutenant Thompson, reporting as ordered, sir.”

The silence stretched for what seemed like a minute. Then, the words.

“She’s been busy, Lieutenant. Very busy, in fact.” My mind raced, but my composure remained firm. “I’m only doing my duty, Admiral.”

Callahan turned around. His eyes, normally blue and cold, were now as hard as security glass. And what I saw on his desk took my breath away.