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colleague to continue.
    “I wanted you to know before it leaks to the media. Honestly, I don’t have a clue why Steiner would do this.”
    It was like Matisse was talking to himself.
    “ Tom Steiner?” Zimmer asked.
    The question seemed to snap Matisse out of his haze.
    “What? Oh, yes. Tom Steiner. Sorry, Mr. President. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate already.”
    “Why don’t you start at the beginning, Ezra?”
    Zimmer heard the congressman grunt and then say, “Mr. President, Congressman Steiner has introduced a bill to disband the United States Marine Corps.”
    The blunt recital shocked the president. He’d come to know the Marines on a very personal level. General McMillan, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, was one of his closest advisors. He’d personally pinned on the new Marine Commandant’s insignia at 8 th & I. One of his best friends, no, most of his new best friends, men who had risked their own lives to save his, were Marines. Cal Stokes. Daniel Briggs. The massive black former Marine Master Sergeant Willy Trent. What would they think of Steiner’s proposal?
    He knew what Cal would do if he could: march over to Steiner’s office and cold-cock him. Daniel, the strong courageous, shadowy sniper, would be more subtle. Trent, hell, who knew what Top would do?
    “And you’re sure he’s serious?” asked Zimmer, suddenly remembering that he’d recommended Cal to the Commandant at his change of command, something about an internal investigation. The president didn’t know the details.
    “I’m having my people read through it now, Mr. President. It looks like whoever helped Tom put this together was very thorough.”
    “Please keep me apprised, and let me know if you need me to step in.”
    “I hope that won’t be necessary, Mr. President, but thank you.”
    President Zimmer replaced the phone in its cradle and sat back in his chair. Surely there was no merit to Congressman Steiner’s plan. Who knew what would happen when the Marines found out? The streets of Washington would be clogged with former Marines demanding that Congress be torn down for incompetence.
    Until he heard more from Matisse, Zimmer decided he didn’t want to concern Cal. His short-tempered friend would flip his lid and probably hop on the first flight to D.C.
    Luckily, he had someone who could help and he was only a few feet away. Earlier that year he’d made one of the smartest moves of his political career. He’d recruited a former Navy SEAL, and former CEO of Stokes Security International (SSI), to be his chief of staff. If anyone knew how to deal with the Steiner situation, it was Travis Haden, Cal Stokes’s cousin.
     
     

Chapter 6
    Washington, D.C.
    2:25pm, December 5 th
     
    Congressman Antonio “Tony” McKnight (R-Florida) didn’t come from money. His father had been a drunk and died serving a life sentence in a backwater Florida prison. His mother…well who knew where she’d ended up. He’d lost track of the woman years ago.
    McKnight was a survivor. He’d ascended the political ranking system despite the dead weight of his lost family. A quick learner, McKnight had stepped into the bureaucratic arena like he was slipping into a pair of well-worn house slippers. It was a perfect fit.
    He was young, good-looking and single. He surfed the web and scooped up social media followers with ease. There were weeks when a new model clung to his arm daily, and there were others when his relentless work schedule imposed a celibate break for the dashing up-and-comer. The Washington Post had recently named him America’s Number Two most eligible bachelor, one step behind President Brandon Zimmer.
    Nicknamed “The Miami Matador,” a nod to his Hispanic heritage and his electorate base, McKnight was becoming known for facing down the onslaught of stalwart old-timers of both parties, much like a matador in the bullring. McKnight had at first laughed at the moniker, but the name and its deeper meaning grew on