“Perhaps you didn’t hear me, Captain.” The governor smiled. “I caught them myself!”
“… they were breaking out of your home,” the commander finished, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “You see, my Legionnaires are very eager to have a chance at that honor guard job you’ve given to the Regular Army, and those two men, Do-Wop and Sushi, broke in here trying to find something I could use as leverage to force you to give us that chance.”
Phule paused to shake his head.
“In some ways, it’s my fault. I talked about looking for leverage while they were listening, and they took it on themselves to try to get it for me. Anyway, they brought what they found to me, and I ordered them to put it back. They did, and you caught them as they were leaving. In short, there was no crime, which should be all the justification you need to drop the charges.”
“No crime!” the governor snorted. “Even if I believed this yarn of yours, Captain-which I don’t they still broke into my home. Twice, from what you say.”
The commander flashed a tight smile, his first since entering the room.
“Make up your mind, Governor. Either you believe me or you don’t. In case you’re having trouble making up your mind, however …” He stretched out a hand, pointing at the governor’s desk. “Bottom drawer on the left, in a file labeled ‘Old Business.’ That’s what they were replacing. Convinced?”
The governor’s smile dropped away like supporters after a losing election.
“If you mean …
“Frankly, Governor,” Phule continued, “I don’t care what your sexual preferences are, or whom or what you practice them with-though I usually confine my own leanings to our own species-much less whether or not you keep pictures for souvenirs. All I want is my men back. Of course, if their case should go to court, I’d be obligated to testify in their behalf, including describing in lurid, graphic, the-media-will-love-it detail the pictures they were supposed to have stolen.”