Jim signed in at the desk and proceeded to Bob MacDonald’s office. He knocked on the open door frame. Mac looked up, smiled and said, “Come on in, Jim.” Mac got to his feet and shook Jim’s hand. “How was your flight?” “Good Mac…uneventful—the best kind,” said Jim. Mac stretched his arm out and pointed to the chair in front of his desk and Jim sat down. Mac settled into his big black leather chair and eased back. He reached under his desk at knee height, pushed a button and the office door closed. “What’s up? How is all of this going to work?” asked Jim crossing his arms and his legs in a figure four. Mac studied Jim. He looked good for someone who was shot down over the Pacific, survived for nearly a year on a deserted island before being captured and tortured by the Japanese for another year. He may look timid, but he’s strong-willed and strong-minded. He wished he had ten more just like him. Mac finally broke his silence. “Come on, the guys are waiting for us in the conference room.
