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curved between large pine trees.  She spotted Max's truck in her driveway.  Her brother waited for her inside.
    -
    The White House (August 17)
           The decor in the Oval Office was a seventeenth century motif, from the carpet to the ridged, Baroque furniture.   Near the window, a Gothic bird cage of wrought-iron and mahogany housed a peregrine falcon.  Like its relative the hawk, its eyes zoomed in on unsuspecting prey: this time, a small bird in the forsythia, safe beyond the windowpane.
            "You screwed up, Captain!  It was Captain, wasn't it?" Chief of Staff Lucas Bennett pranced about in rage.  Captain Thomas was their scapegoat for the Dixville incident--at least unofficially.  "How could you let that gun cut loose like that--without anyone watching over it?  What the hell happened?"  President Clifford Winifred and Secretary of Defense Kyle Paz looked on as Chief of Staff Bennett performed the debriefing. 
           Lucas was medium height and lanky, rather good looking with dark, slicked back hair, dark eyes as well.  A disappointment to women who looked on him longingly, the tiny tattoo on his left cheek denoted his lifestyle, and he was not the least ashamed of it.  In fact, he had been described as arrogant; Lucas always had a look of contempt.  He listened to other's ideas but Bennett's opinion usually had a dig within it, designed to poison the source of other's suggestions that vied for the President's favor.  He was Chief of Staff, young, and he had the power to include or exclude anyone from the audience of the President.
           Captain Thomas sat at attention; eyes fixed, head up and facing forward; his brown skin glistened with sweat.  "The metal sensors were shutdown.  And for some reason no soldiers had been designated to to watch over the unit, sir.  Even without supervision, AutoMen used mass, heat, and motion as a qualifier for targeting."
           "And who shutdown the metal sensor, Captain?"  Bennett stared at the soldier from the side, only inches away from Thomas' face.
           "I take full responsibility for anything that happens under my command, sir."  Thomas' expression and tone never changed.  And he did take responsibility; they stationed four AutoMen on the trails of upper New Hampshire and Vermont.  Twice, smugglers got by them.  As Thomas' commanding officers applied pressure, the technician had taken it upon himself to change the program on the AutoMen so the reprobates would be detected. 
           "That isn't what I asked, Captain!  I asked who, Captain?  Who?"
            Thomas rotated to Bennett now, "I said I take full responsibility for my men, Mr . Bennett."  It was a stare-down.  Thomas didn't blink.
           Lucas had contempt for the military.  Even after fully integrating the armed services with women and ethnics, there was still that macho camaraderie among males who served.  Bennett resented the gays' condition in military life, how they were excluded from off-base activities; the straight-male faction of the military still had their own exclusive cliques.
           Secretary of Defense Kyle Paz stood near the door at the back of the room, finally unable to contain himself.  He cleared his throat before speaking, "This isn't necessary, Mr. President.  This is a debriefing, not an inquisition."  General Paz, a brawny Latino with wavy hair, had made it to the top because of his political savvy--knowing who not to rile.  In this case, he had to speak up; Captain Thomas had been a victim of events. 
           It had been the President's idea to stop the contraband medical supplies smuggled from Quebec.  Chief of Staff Bennett had approached Paz three months ago in a meeting, the Secretary recalled well:
     
           "Use Army Regulars, the Rangers from the Capitol here.  We want to keep things quiet.  The National Guard can't be trusted to keep their mouths