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Washington’s goddamn peak hour traffic, had slowed his official limousine down, in spite of its ‘presidential’ glisten, the vehicles crawling along inch by inch, bumper to bumper, to slow Marley Goodblood’s progress through the capital’s flowing rivers of metal, so that he was late for the Pentagon War Room Committee meeting. Entering through the tall doors of the committee room, he followed the solemn blank-faced naval adjutant leading him to his place down the long room. The chair, looking so condemned in its isolation, was placed just inside the open end of the horseshoe arrangement of tables with its threatening pincer closing in positioning. Just like those Roman army generals strategically positioned their soldiers to trap the enemy. Clever guys, those Romans. Taught us a trick o
