The Legionnaire commander turned and smiled vaguely at being addressed by name.
“Good evening,” he said with reflexive politeness.
“I was wondering if I might buy you a drink?” the woman continued.
The Legionnaire smiled. “Thank you, but I’m on duty.”
“I see. I thought you might be able to make an exception this time. My name is Maxine Pruet.”
As expected, that caught Phule’s entire attention, though he made a deliberate effort to remain outwardly casual.
“Of course,” he said. “Forgive me for not recognizing you from your picture.”
“What picture was that, Captain?”
“Well, it was two pictures, actually,” Phule said. “One profile, one full face.”
For a moment Maxine’s eyes narrowed dangerously, then she caught herself and smiled again, though a little forced this time.
“No need to be insulting, Mr. Phule,” she said levelly. “You probably know as well as I do that I’ve never been arrested.”
“Quite right.” The commander nodded, and for a moment a flash of weariness showed on his face. “I’m sorry … that was a cheap shot. You just caught me, a bit by surprise, is all. Here, let me take you up on that drink.”
As he spoke, Phule stopped one of the cocktail waitresses with a gesture and plucked two glasses from the tray of complimentary champagne she was distributing.
“Here,” he said, passing one to Maxine. “What shall we drink to? Somehow I don’t imagine you’re eager to drink to the success of the Fat Chance.”
“Not for a while, anyway,” Max purred. “How about `To honorable enemies and dishonorable friends’?”