Warrior Class

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“Well, what the hell are they doing in there?” the chief clerk of the United States Supreme Court whispered excitedly. He knocked again on the door of the Truman Quarters, the master guest suite of Blair House. Behind him waited the chief justice of the Supreme Court, along with several aides, Secret Service agents, and Blair House staff. Who the hell would keep the chief justice and most of the rest of the world waiting like this?

A few moments later, the President-elect himself opened the door. “Come in, please, gentlemen,” he said, his ever-present half-smile on his face. “Welcome. Hope we didn’t keep you too long.”

“Of course not, Governor Thorn,” the chief justice responded, with a faint smile. “Don’t be silly — I’m the one disturbing you. This is your time. Probably the last real peace and quiet you’ll have for a very long time.”

The president-elect shook his head and smiled as if he was completely oblivious to what was going to happen soon. “Nonsense, Your Honor. Peace is a state of mind, not a function of time, place, or sound.”

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