I placed my thumb and index finger on the small silver unit pin.

I turned the cool metal slowly in a circle, working out my exact options.

I could stand up, identify myself as a four-star general, and demand his immediate removal for harassing a senior officer.

That choice would mean a federal air marshal getting involved and a three-hour delay for every innocent passenger on board.

It would also ruin the peaceful week I had promised my daughter.

I let go of the silver pin and took my phone out of my pocket.