James’s crimson Mustang slid into his designated spot behind the public affairs office marked by a placard with his name and rank. With a hand on the golden fabric of the seat, he leaned back in and retrieved the sword while the god in the form of a grizzled old warrior climbed out of the passenger side. Lugh’s whole mannerisms shifted from the spry young man that had been in her dining room into a grizzled warrior who’d survived a lot.

  Each step came with a subtle limp, and the scarred face gave a painful scowl if he shifted his weight onto his left leg. Despite the false pain, he still managed to keep his head up and his back ramrod straight as they walked towards the office at the back of the large room. Faces turned to look at the pair as they entered the cubicle-filled room and angled towards the desk of the Admiral's Aide. When the young man looked up at the two people who approached, a sympathetic expression broke across his face as he spoke.

  “Gunney, I thought you would be out for the next few days. How are you holding up?”

  James glanced carefully over at Lugh, waiting for the young private to follow his eyes to the ranking officer standing beside him. When it finally registered, the young man jumped to his feet and offered a sharp salute as his office chair rolled to clatter against the wall behind him.

  “My apologies, sir. I let my concern distract me from my duties. It won’t happen again.”

  Lugh returned the salute with a flourish before stepping partially around the desk to place a hand on the young marine's shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, private, caring for the well-being of your fellow marines is part of what it means to be one of us. I’m here to speak with your CO, but it’s not super time sensitive. Is she available at the moment? If not, that’s okay, it’s been nearly ten years since I’ve seen the Constitution, and I wouldn’t mind waiting while I get a tour from the Gunney.”

  Before the flustered private could respond, the door to the Admiral’s office opened and let out a group of three marines who all saluted before continuing on their way back to their desks. Standing from where she’d been seated behind her desk, the well-dressed officer moved quickly to the door of her office before saluting.

  “Admiral Lamfada, it’s been a long time. What brings you back to the Constitution Museum?”

  After returning the salute, Lugh stepped forward and offered a hand in greeting to an old friend. He spoke quietly so that the rest of the office didn’t overhear the conversation.

  “Can we talk in your office briefly? No major issues, but the subject is sensitive and shouldn’t be discussed in public.”

  Stepping to the side, the real Admiral motioned for the two of them to join her in the small office. When the door closed behind them, Lugh stepped over to one of the barely comfortable red chairs in front of the heavy wood desk.

  “Thanks for seeing us, Brenda. I wish I was showing up to catch up on old times, but you know that my assignments are never a good thing. To be clear, everything we’re going to talk about in this room will never be repeated without authorization from the proper clearance.”

  The Admiral took her seat and signaled for James to sit as well. When everyone was seated, Brenda turned back to Lugh and gave a solemn nod. After a glance at the door, Lugh confirmed that they were in a secure space before he continued.

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  “Now, there aren't a lot of details that I can give you on this, so please hold the questions. The important thing for you to know is that Vic didn’t die of natural causes and was working for me to prevent an attack on your command. So I’m going to need to requisition the assistance of Gunney O'Driscoll to complete this mission.”

  An eyebrow raised as the Admiral’s hand unconsciously reached towards the phone on her desk. Leaning forward, Lugh intercepted her hand before speaking firmly.

  “That can wait, Admiral. We need to clarify a few things before you give the orders that you want to. Can I move on now, or do I need to give you a minute to process the first bit of information?”

  Brenda took a breath and ran her fingers through her close-cropped curly black hair before she sat back and met the gaze of the god in disguise. Sure that she had control of herself, Lugh sat back and glanced over at James before diving into the fake version of James’s new reality.

  “The short of it is that a crime syndicate has targeted the U.S. Military and is exploiting service members, along with attacks on units that won’t play ball with them. Vic has been shielding all of the units stationed here in Boston and was doing an amazing job with it while working on bringing Gunney O’Driscoll in on the mission. Unfortunately, they figured out what he was doing and took him out quietly before we could fully integrate your command into this mission.”

  Rage flashed across Brenda’s face before she regained control. The admiral sat forward again with her arms folded across her desk. The Admiral’s voice held venom as she spoke, asking the questions that Lugh had been waiting for.

  “Thank you for letting me know about this. My command is fully at your disposal to get this scum out of our city. What do you need from my team?”

  A smirk flickered across Lugh’s face as he sat back and put one leg over the other as he answered.

  “For starters, I need the Gunney, and I need him to be able to give orders to any member of your command as if it came from you or me. We also need freedom of movement, so he should be released from formation and all other required events. That being said, he and I should be treated like expected members of the team because we will be present at the post regularly.”

  Pulling out a pad and pen, the Admiral quickly jotted down a few notes before glancing up at the god in disguise.

  “We can do that, sir. I’ll get my clerk to assign Gunney O’Driscoll to detached duty but leave her under my direct command. That will keep the paper trail clean of your team's involvement. Is there anything else that my team can do to make this easier for you?”

  Lugh stood to signal the end of the meeting, pausing only a moment to answer the question.

  “Employ heightened security and have them report anything strange to the Gunney. Besides that, please let the armorer know that we’re headed over there next. Vic left him Brightblade, and it needs to be checked in as his dress blade. We wouldn’t want him to get in trouble for carrying one of the most famous weapons in the Corps' history.”

  Brenda froze and glanced down at the blade that hung at James’s hip. Stepping around the desk, the commanding officer reached out in the standard inspection gesture. James glanced over at Lugh, drawing the blade and offering it to Brenda after getting a small nod from the god. The Admiral accepted the blade and studied it as she spoke.

  “This is the blade that’s been with the Corp since the Boxer Rebellion? It’s in great condition for a blade that old. You better take good care of this blade, Gunney. It’s seen almost as much history as the ship you’re assigned to protect.”

  James accepted the blade back and quickly saluted with it before sheathing it. When the blade was secure, he met his commanding officer’s gaze and responded.

  “Thank you, ma’am. You have my word that it will be taken care of. Not only is it important to the Corp, it’s personal to me because it was Vic’s blade for so long. It’s now one of the only things of his I have left, and I’m going to protect that. I’ll do everything I can to protect the heritage of this blade and of the command that I serve as well.”

  After accepting a final salute, Lugh let James lead him out of the office with new orders. Angling towards the Armory at the rear of the building, James tried not to meet anyone’s gaze so that he wasn’t pulled into a conversation. He was sure that a day would come that he’d have to explain everything, but he was mentally exhausted enough that it couldn’t be today.