I have faced down armed insurgents in dusty valleys half a world away.

A spoiled heir in a silk tie did not intimidate me.

“If you touch me, the federal agents will be at the front gate in four minutes,” I said.

Brandon stopped, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

The phone rang a fourth time, then the line clicked.

The speakerphone activated automatically, a feature of the high-end office system.

Margaret Prescott’s voice filled the room, cold and perfectly modulated.

“Brandon,” she said.

Brandon looked at the phone as if it were a venomous snake.

“I am here, Mother,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Is Colonel Hart still in the room with you?” Margaret asked.

“Yes,” Brandon said.

“Put her on,” Margaret commanded.

I walked over to the desk, my polished black shoes clicking on the hardwood floor.

“I am listening, Mrs. Prescott,” I said.

There was a brief pause on the line, long enough for the sound of rain against the glass to fill the silence.

“You are a very stubborn woman, Colonel,” Margaret said.

“I am a mother,” I said. “And I am an officer.”