“General Brooks,” Reed said. His voice was no longer a boom. It was a strained, strangled whisper. All trace of authority, all that brass and confidence, was gone. He looked wildly at his team, who were now desperately trying to look at the ground, at the fog, at anything but me.

“Sir,” he choked out. “I… my profound apologies. I did not recognize you out of context.”

I didn’t relax. I didn’t offer a cynical smile. I didn’t give him the mercy of an “at ease.” My eyes were the same still, gray pools they had been a moment ago.

“Context is everything, Admiral,” I replied, my voice just as measured, just as final. “And my context is right here now.”

I tapped Ethan’s small shoulder, gently.

The Admiral swallowed, a visible, painful bob of his Adam’s apple. The sheer magnitude of his blunder was setting off every alarm bell in his gut. He knew the protocols. My presence here, in this sweatshirt, at this daycare, was supposed to be completely anonymous. My presence was classified. My son was classified.

“Of course, sir. General. We will respect your privacy. Consider this incident… completely erased.”

Reed snapped a salute. It was far too sharp, far too respectful for the open air. It was a salute of frantic submission. Then he turned on his heel. He didn’t just walk; he fled, striding away with the rigid, frantic speed of a man running from a catastrophic failure. His team scrambled to catch up, their boots thumping a panicked retreat into the fog. The laughter was gone.

The path was silent again. The only sound was the distant cry of a gull and the whoosh of the ocean.

Ethan, bless his innocent heart, was utterly oblivious to the seismic shock that had just hit the senior command structure of the US Navy. He looked up at me, his head tilted.

“Daddy, why did the man call you a general?” he asked, his voice small.

I knelt, the motion slow. Every joint in my body seemed to ache. I wasn’t wounded by the Admiral’s disrespect; I was wounded by the memory it stirred. I brushed a stray piece of blond hair from his forehead, my rough hand gentle.

“It’s just an old name, buddy,” I said, my voice thick. “A long time ago, I used to help make sure the biggest, most important toys worked. Now… I just help make sure your toys work.”

He smiled, satisfied, and held up his jet. “Okay!”