Mike's mind churned obsessively through the night while his body slept. He relived facing off against Nallit, betraying Marius, and killing terrorists at the airport. As if that wasn't bad enough, older memories found their way into the neverending loop. The moment in Iraq when he learned about Susie. The dressing down he received from the Captain following his encounter with the two smart-mouthed marines. He had never actually been able to recall what had transpired with the marines, only able to piece together some details of the incident based on what he had said afterwards in his defense. He thought they had insulted him. He hoped they had. Otherwise he had just been unable to handle the surge of emotions and lashed out like a caveman. Needless to say, he did not relive the incident, only the painful aftermath standing at attention while his superiors screamed at him and he tottered on a knife's edge between crying and going berserk. Funny how he didn't have more than a vague impression of the funeral service but could repeat every word that had been used against him by the Captain and the First Sergeant.

The wakeup for his turn at watch duty pulled him free at six in the morning. Mike got Jimmy to join him outside in the hall where they had set up a table with two chairs.

"Why does a treasurer have to do guard duty?"

"You're a soldier first," Mike said.

"I'm not a soldier. My super power is being able to think good. Our enemies can throw buildings and turn their bodies hard as rock."

"You can't be a civilian member of our army, so you're a soldier."

Jimmy groaned. "The secret's going to come out. They're not going to let me get in the ring again since I have an unfair advantage."

"I'm sorry, man. I know how much it meant. Honestly . . . I am insanely jealous that you got to put on a show like you did."

"Wait, wait, wait. You are jealous of me? That makes no sense, Mike. You're a national hero and I'm some phoney who cheated to win a fight."

"National hero? You must have missed the interview where I was asked why I sucked so bad at catching things. I dedicated years to training in the gym and all I have to show for it is a one and one record. This paragon shit is just good luck on my part. Someone else would be in the spotlight if I hadn't been there."

Jimmy leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. "We both set our own limits. I attuned to nous so I could escape Marius. You stopped competing and let yourself get out of shape." Jimmy sat up. "But you know what? Some doors are closed to us, but we still got opportunity. I'm going to become a CFO for real. You're going to be an army officer."

"Assuming I don't die."

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"Don't cross swords with that Nallit guy and you'll be fine."

Mike scratched his shoulder. "He's putting a price on my head as some sort of game. I don't think my odds of being alive in a year are all that great."

"You're going to have an army at your back."

"An army of amateurs," Mike said. "I got nothing but respect for the boss, but she put some girl in charge of training who looks like she should still be in high school. I've been given a role way beyond anything I was ever trained for. I walk around aping leaders I had in the past, hoping that no one will call me out on my bullshit. And I'm somehow the best we've got."

Jimmy waved Mike's concerns away with a disdainful flick of his wrist. "The rule is you fake it until you make it, then everyone assumes you knew what you were doing all along. I guarantee you George Washington was making it up as he went. He just sold everyone around him on the illusion that he knew what was up. That's what all of us are going to do. We just need to get enough right to keep up appearances. We got this, Mike."

Mike squinted out the glass door leading to the rooftop, where early morning light had transformed the darkness into shades of gray. "So today you are working on budgets?"

"That's just part of it. We need a checking account, credit cards, and an EIN for tax purposes." Jimmy winked at Mike. "You better believe I'm googling how to do all that shit. Not to mention we can't keep all our money in one place given our unofficial status. I'm going to be looking at squirreling money away in Swiss bank accounts, the Cayman Islands, places like that. What you got going on?"

"All day training. After breakfast, the boss is going to work with me while Sam puts the new recruits through their paces. Then I take over training in the afternoon while Cassandane talks with FBI and Secret Service agents in preparation for meeting with the president." Mike stifled a yawn. The previous night's activities had gone late. After Cassandane rubber stamped everyone who showed up for an interview, he had flown them back to his apartment for them to reclaim their vehicles, then waited for them at the convention center parking garage to fly them up to the rooftop entrance. It had been well after midnight before he had a chance to sleep. Unfortunately, the person to cot ratio had been off. Mike had insisted he could sleep on the floor, which had been true enough, though his back felt worse for the experience. Still, the one lesson in leadership he knew to be legitimate beyond a shadow of a doubt was that you had to take care of the troops before you took care of yourself. Whether or not he misrepresented himself as more capable than he was, Mike had determined he would not fail on the basis of insufficient commitment.

A barely audible click warned Mike that someone else had entered the hall. He turned to catch sight of Cassandane. "Mornin', Boss."

"Good morning, Mike, Jimmy."

"Care for a cup of white tea?" Mike reached out with his corona to pull over one of the bags he had brought the previous night, then withdrew three boxes. The first box contained a mug decorated with the word 'BOSS', the second a tea infuser ball, and the third a bag of loose leaf tea. "The lady at the store said silver needle was a good white tea."

Cassandane opened the bag and inhaled through her nose. She nodded with a slight smile, then erupted into a chuckle that ended almost as soon as it had begun, her composure resuming seamlessly. "Boss. Very nice. Thank you, Mike."

Mike gave a jaunty mock salute with two fingers. "Just remember, every time you save my life you get another mug."

Cassandane inclined her head slightly. "It would be a better incentive if I needed more than one."

"A lady can never have enough mugs."

"Perhaps. I would like the two of you to purchase breakfast for the EDA. Something quick that doesn't make a mess. A 'vegan' option would be nice."

Mike turned to Jimmy. "Bagels?"