“Very good, sir … and thank you.”
“No thanks necessary, Beek. I just don’t want to give you any more ammo than is necessary when it comes time to negotiate your next raise.”
Phule stretched and looked out the window.
“So … what’s on the docket for today?”
“Quite a bit, sir … but as you pointed out when I wakened you, it’s still early.”
“Well, I’m up now. Let’s get to work. And give the officers and cadre a call-especially Chocolate Harry. No sense in letting them lounge abed when I’m working.”
CHAPTER SIX
Journal File #024
I will not attempt to capture the true feeling of what it was like for the company to stand guard duty in a swamp, though my employer’s impressions of the duty the first day he joined them in that task would doubtless be of interest to some. This is not so much a lack of willingness or ability on my part to impart such details, but rather a simple lack of data, as I never actually accompanied the company into the swamp—a fact I became particularly appreciative of when I observed the condition of their uniforms at the end of the day.
Bombest had nearly resigned himself to the Legionnaires’ presence in his hotel. There was no denying the welcome influx of rental monies during a normally slack period, and the troops themselves had proved to be far less raucous and destructive than he originally feared. He even made an honest effort to muster a certain amount of enthusiasm in his mind for their residence. What progress he had made along those lines, however, faded rapidly as he observed the Legionnaires’ transports pull up to the front door late in the afternoon, disgorging what could only be described as “mudmen” onto the sidewalk.