She would have to tell her friends why the wedding in Annapolis was canceled or moved.

She would have to explain why her fiancé was living in a metal cabin in the Aleutian Islands instead of a townhouse in Alexandria.

My father would have to face his peers at the country club.

They would ask him about his daughter, the Admiral.

And he would have to admit he knew nothing about her.

The plane tilted slightly as we adjusted our course over the Atlantic.

I opened my eyes and looked at the screen.

The blue dot representing our aircraft was moving steadily away from the United States.

“Miller,” I said.

“Ma’am?”

“Send a message to the Chief of Naval Operations.”

“Go ahead, ma’am.”

“Inform him that I am en route and will assume command of the Sixth Fleet immediately upon arrival.”

“Sent,” Miller said.

I stood up and walked to the small galley to stretch my legs.

The co-pilot came back from the cockpit.

“Admiral,” he said, saluting.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“We just received a message from the Pentagon. The Secretary of Defense has cleared your flight path directly into Naples. We won’t need to hold in Lajes.”