Chapter 1

February 9, 2018

In the vicinity of New Orleans, Louisiana, U.S.A.

8:22 p.m. Central Standard Time

February was an odd time for a steamboat cruise on the Mississippi River. But when a legend asks for one, it's all-but-impossible to say no.

Samuel L. Jenkins was both U.S. Navy and New Orleans through-and-through. He grew up in a family whose service to their country went all the way back to the Spanish-American War, and whose roots in the Crescent City went back further to when the U.S. purchased the Louisiana Territory from France. Jenkins, like his father, his grandfather and his ancestors, had been a highly-decorated Naval officer, serving with distinction in the Gulf War and in anti-terrorist operations during President George W. Bush's War on Terror.

Jenkins, however, had done what no one else in his distinguished line had ever accomplished: he attained the highest rank any Naval officer could hope to reach, Chief of Naval Operations. That position meant the four-star Admiral was also a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and his staunch conservative convictions put him in favor with the current President and made him a favorite to become the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs sometime within the next few years.

While not one to abuse his position nor those below him, Adm. Jenkins wasn't above taking advantage of the perks that came with his rank. New Orleans being home, and its warmer weather, were reason enough for the admiral to call in a favor and rent out one of the city's legendary steamboats, the Riverboat Queen.

Of course, he invited family, friends and associates, including a variety of political figures from both Washington and Louisiana.

Jenkins had let it be known he was willing to support the current President in any way possible, including political service. In that regard, while New Orleans would forever be his home, the admiral knew any political future he had begun and ended inside the District. If that meant he had to cultivate allies there who could help him parlay his military service into the House or Senate – or into the White House – then that's what he would do.

If that also meant he would invite the national and local media for an announcement, well, he'd do that, too.

Thirty-three minutes before his scheduled announcement, Jenkins stood outside on the port side of the Riverboat Queen's cabin deck, watching the New Orleans skyline in the distance. His keen senses helped him notice a slender, redhaired woman climb onto the deck on its bow side, nearly 150 feet from where he stood. He turned to his right, watching her until she reached where he stood.

"Enjoying the view, Admiral?", asked the woman, Sarah Porter, the Secretary of the Navy. She was dressed in a black suit with a white blouse – the admiral insisted that everyone on board 'dress like they were on the job, not some damned ball' – and had two glasses of wine, one which she offered to the admiral.

"Not every day I can get back down here, Sarah," Jenkins replied, accepting the glass and taking a sip. "Nice weather out. Clear sky, in the sixties. They tell me it's in the mid-30s back in Washington."

"That would put a cramp on a riverboat cruise, sir," Porter said with a smile. "You chose well, making your announcement here."

"I couldn't announce my candidacy for the Senate at some hotel in Georgetown," Jenkins said, with a grin. "And the seat is ripe to be taken by a no-nonsense challenger, who supports the White House."

"Yes, sir," Porter said. She kept her personal political views as private as she could, but she couldn't hide the fact she had voted independent in the 2016 elections. In the current political climate, that worked against her in the minds of some on both the far-right and the far-left. Some of those people wanted her to 'show courage' by taking an open, definitive political stand (preferably theirs), but most of the people she worked with knew her job was, first and foremost, the management of the Navy and Marine Corps. Jenkins had never given her any problems during her tenure as SECNAV; in fact, he had gone out of his way to tell the current President she was "the best person for the job, without doubt"; POTUS had listened to the admiral, so far, and so Porter had kept her position.

In the back of her mind, though, Porter knew there would come a time when the admiral would ask for a favor. Not tonight, perhaps, but some day. She'd already determined she'd worry about bridge when she crossed it.

"Sarah," Jenkins said, "I'd like you to join my team as my chief of staff."

What?, she thought. "Sir?"

"You're a good organizer, and you know as many people in Washington as I do," he said. "I've interviewed five candidates for the position over the past few weeks. I don't trust any of them; they're all insiders. The President's brought his own people into the White House, and it's worked out well enough for him so far. I want to follow his lead."

I had no idea the bridge was so close, she thought, scrambling to give an appropriate response. She liked her job as Secretary of the Navy and felt like she was doing some good; having come from the business world, she considered her job more suited to her skills than running for office. She had been around Washington long enough to learn about the political world, and that life-changing opportunities can come unexpectedly – and disappear just as quickly.

Here, on a riverboat, was an opportunity that she knew she didn't have any time to properly consider, and she wasn't certain if asking for time was the right move.

"I'm flattered, Admiral," Porter said. "I appreciate your interest and your confidence in me to do that job. May I ask what led you to consider me?"

"Your competence," Jenkins said. "Too many ass-kissers in Washington. You take your job seriously and you respect it and those you serve. That's been part of the Jenkins family motto since we arrived on the shores of Virginia in 1658 and moved to Louisiana in 1803. Every Jenkins man who's served his country has lived his life by it. I won't have people around me who don't share that conviction."

"Once again, Admiral, I'm flattered," Porter replied, "and I very much appreciate the opportunity—"

"You'll accept, then?"

Jenkins knew Porter wouldn't accept so soon. Others, he realized, would accept such an invitation on the spot, and quite a few would do anything to get that opportunity. If America was to be truly reformed, he thought, it would need people of conviction in leadership, people like Sarah Porter – and himself.

"Sir, I need some time to consider my options, and what my responsibilities would be in each scenario. I am still the Secretary of the Navy, and I cannot leave my duties unfulfilled."

"Nor would I expect you to," Jenkins replied. "Take the night. Tommy" – Lieutenant Thomas Anders had served as Jenkins' aide for the past two years, and had laid the bulk of the foundation for the Admiral's Senate campaign behind the scenes – "can handle things just fine for one more day."

"Thank you, sir," Porter said.

Jenkins reached inside his jacket, took a small card out of a pocket, then handed it to Porter. "Tomorrow evening at 7, Emile's in Georgetown. The best jambalaya anywhere outside Louisiana. The owner's a long-time friend of the family, and we'll have time to discuss business – and rest assured, it will be business. Some supporters, men and women of conviction, will be there as well. I expect to see you then?"

"Of course," Porter said.

"Then I will take my leave," he said. "I'm going back to my cabin to go over my final remarks. I'll see you in a half-hour, Madam Secretary."

As she watched him walk away, Porter realized that had the admiral not kept his relationship with her strictly on a professional basis, she might have declined his campaign invitation on the spot. She had no idea at the moment what she would do – she felt as if something life-changing had just been dumped on her life, with no clue as to whether it was for the good or for evil – but Porter knew she had less than 24 hours to make a decision.

The minutes slipped away as she pondered her role as SECNAV, and the other career paths she had considered, so it took a shout from the admiral's aide to bring her back to the present.

"Madam Secretary!", Lt. Anders said, rather loudly. She then noticed the shock on his face.

"Lieutenant?" Porter looked at her watch. Oh no, she thought, I've missed the announcement. "Lieutenant, please tell the Admiral—"

"Something's happened to the Admiral," Lt. Anders said, with calmness and urgency. "Please come with me."

Porter followed the Lieutenant down to the Admiral's cabin. She first saw the bodies of two members of his protection detail in the hallway, and then noticed the Marines standing guard outside the Admiral's door.

"Let me through," Porter said, making certain not to step on the bodies in the hallway. She didn't even think about stepping inside, since everything she needed to know was too easily seen. From her vantage point a foot away from the two Marines standing on either side of the doorway, she saw for herself that Admiral Jenkins was dead.