"King Of The Universe"

 and was on the road.  He didn’t mind the traffic on the way to the airport.  It was just another reminder of how much he enjoyed the move to the suburbs in Connecticut.

Lieutenant Denis Arrington had already arrived at The Cape, under tight security. Snipers took up their positions on nearby roofs, and sentries from the National Guard were staked out in a perimeter around the shuttle.  Pilots were prepared to fly F-35 fighters at a moments notice.  Security was always beefed up when a mission was at hand.  The war against terrorism was being won, but all of humanity had long ago concluded that it would never be over.

Denis Arrington opened the manila envelope, and spread the numerous documents out on the conference table.  Full of data and sequenced directives to review, he began the task meticulously, a habit of his that brought him unparalleled advancement within the Air Force.  At the age of thirty, this would be his second space shuttle mission, this time as a copilot to Cdr. Goodall.  Often compared to Colin Powell because of his skin color and determination, few thought it possible that he would rise up through the ranks so quickly; after all, he was an average student from a lower-middle class neighborhood in Bronx, N.Y.

       As a decorated combat pilot answering the call to arms, the WTC terrorist attacks that took place seven years ago to the day, still left an indelible mark deep within Denis’s gut.  Being selected to fly the prototype shuttle to further the S.D.I. Program fulfilled his destiny . . . so he thought.

       Suddenly the door opened, and in stepped all six foot one, and one hundred and ninety pounds of solid muscle and confidence.

“Oh man, am I glad to see you, Jason,” Denis said.