“You got Mother!” came the quick response.
“Rembrandt here, Mother,” the lieutenant said. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll tell you, if it wasn’t for every mother’s son and daughter in this outfit wanting personal updates every fifteen minutes, it’d be a real breeze.”
The lieutenant smiled despite the pressure she was feeling. “You want some help?”
“Oh, don’t you mind my carping. I got it covered-for the time being, anyway. You just keep working on figuring out where the captain is and let me worry about keeping the wolves at bay.”
“All right, Mother. But holler if it gets too much for you. Rembrandt out.”
She turned her attention to the floor plans once more.
“Now, the way I see it, the most likely places are here and here.” She indicated two points with her finger. “We need to have someone run a quick check … Brandy?”
“Here, Lieutenant,” the top sergeant said, stepping forward.
“Do you think we could-“
“Pardon me!”
The commander’s butler was standing in the doorway.
“What is it, Beeker?”
“I … I don’t mean to intrude,” Beeker said, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable, “and, as you know, I have no official standing in your organization, but in this instance we share a common interest-namely, the well-being of my employer-and I believe I have some information you might need in your planning.”
“Don’t worry about your standing with us, Beek,” Rembrandt said. Like everyone in the company, she had a great deal of respect for the butler-more than most, since he had assisted her when she was recruiting the actors for stand-ins. “What have you got?”