“Very good, sir. If I might add, however, I assume that Lieutenant Rembrandt will be in civilian garb for her mission?”
The commander nodded. “I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right, Beeker. She’d have to be. Otherwise the media would catch wind of it and tip our hand before we even got started.”
“Well, sir, I, for one, haven’t see the lieutenant in anything except her Legionnaire wardrobe. While I have no reason to doubt the extent of her civilian wardrobe or her ability to supplement it as necessary, I have no basis to be confident of it, either.”
“Point taken, Beeker. Like I say, let me think on it. Just remember …”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Whoops! There’s my first victim. Let them in, will you, Beek? On your way out?”
“Yes, sir … but first, sir …”
“Yes?”
“If I might draw your attention to the time?”
Again Phule glanced at his watch. “Okay. So?”
“It is my understanding that you’re expecting to interview some fifty volunteers tonight?”
“If that many show up, yes.”
“Might I point out, sir, that if each interview only takes ten minutes, it will take more than eight hours to finish them all?”
Phule sighed wearily. “I know, but it’s important that I handle this as soon as possible … as you yourself pointed out not too long ago.”
“Of course, sir. I was merely suggesting that you might wish to make an effort to keep each individual interview as brief as possible considering the cumulative time involved … resist the temptation to try to settle details tonight that could be handled at leisure over the next few days. While I’m aware that it’s my favorite lost cause, you do need to sleep occasionally … sir.”