“I wondered about the same thing, C.H.,” the commander said with a smile, though inwardly he was cursing the shrewdness of a question that prevented him from presenting the situation at his own pace. “So I gave the owner a call. It seems that his main concern, and the reason for specifically requesting our services, is that he’s afraid that a certain criminal element might be trying to take over his casino. It’s our job to stop them.”
The celebratory smiles disappeared abruptly at this news, and the Legionnaires began to murmur back and forth.
“A certain criminal element,” Harry repeated dramatically. “Tell me, Cap’n, is that rich folks’ talk for `organized crime’?”
“That’s organized crime no matter who’s doing the talking, C.H.,” Phule confirmed grimly.
The mutters and conversation in the ranks accelerated noticeably. For some, organized crime was a legendary force they only knew about from carefully phrased media coverage, while others in the company had more firsthand dealings with that subterranean branch of society. Whether their knowledge was from rumor or personal experience, however, it was clear to all that their new “cushy assignment” had just grown some dangerous thorns.
“Now, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that uniformed security guards won’t be much of a deterrent against this kind of opposition,” Phule said, pressing on before the meeting got totally out of hand. “Any more than uniformed beat cops can keep organized crime out of a city.”
He paused involuntarily to take a deep breath before plunging into the next part.