The man frowned. “I see.”
“Perhaps if I outlined for you what our real plan is, you’d be better able to convince your superiors that their interest is not only premature, it’s pointless.”
Jonesy was humming to himself when he finally returned to his own room, though the tune was none other than the catchy advertising ditty from the Lorelei beacon.
Unlocking the door, he was just reaching for the light switch when a voice greeted him from the darkness.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Sushi?”
Startled, Sushi managed to click on the lights, and discovered his company commander sprawled in one of the room’s chairs, squinting against the sudden brightness.
“Good evening, Captain. You gave me a bit of a turn just now. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I gave you a bit of a turn?” Phule snarled. “You’ve had the whole force in an uproar since you showed up with those tattoos. I had to move fast to keep them from charging to the rescue when that goon picked you up.”
“Really?” Sushi said, raising his eyebrows. “I’ll have to apologize. I didn’t mean to panic everyone.”
“Well, you panicked me!” the commander snapped. “Now, what’s with the tattoos? Why are you posing as a member of the Japanese Mafia?”
“What makes you think it’s a pose, Captain?” the Legionnaire countered blandly. “Our regular uniforms are long-sleeved. Have you ever seen my arms before?”
Phule gaped at him.
“Relax, Willard.” Sushi laughed, resorting to Phule’s civilian name. “You were right the first time. It’s a disguise. I just wanted to pull your leg a little to try to get you to loosen up. You seemed awfully tense.”