Before Maxine had to reach a decision over what to do about this open rebellion, the matter was settled for her. The bedroom door opened and Phule emerged, his uniform slightly disheveled, but aside from that looking relaxed and refreshed.
“No need to fight, ladies.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m already awake. Thanks, anyway, Laverna. I’ll be sure to mention your consideration to Beeker when-or should I say if-I see him again.”
He ignored the guard who ghosted through the door behind him to rejoin the others, just as the guards tended to ignore the main conversation in the room.
“Sit down, Mr. Phule,” Maxine said, setting her book aside and gesturing toward a chair. “I take it you overheard Laverna’s unfortunate comment about the possibility of having to eliminate you?”
“I did,” Phule admitted, sinking into the indicated seat, “but to be honest with you, it was no surprise. I assumed from the beginning I was only being kept alive so that, if necessary, I could speak to my father for you to confirm that I was in good health. Once the ransom is paid …”
He shrugged and left the end of the sentence unsaid.
“Then you think he’ll pay?” Max pressed. “Forgive my curiosity, but this is the first time I’ve dealt with someone of your father’s standing.”
“I really don’t know,” the Legionnaire said easily. “Frankly I doubt it, but he’s surprised me before.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, Mr. Phule,” Maxine said, “you seem to be taking this very calmly.”
“I see it as the price of stupidity,” Phule replied, grimacing slightly. “I got so wrapped up trying to protect the complex, and Gunther Rafael, and my troops, that I completely overlooked the possibility of my own danger until I opened my door and saw your assistants standing there with their weapons trained on me. They’re very good, by the way.”