"No need to fight, ladies." He smiled, his eyes twinkling with amus.e.m.e.nt. "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 a.s.sumed 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 a.s.sistants standing there with their weapons trained on me. They're very good, by the way."

He paused to nod his compliments to the guards, but they ignored him.

"Anyway," he continued, "as I was saying, it was a stupid oversight, and stupidity at my level is unforgivable. It's also usually fatal, either physically or financially. By rights, I should have been dead as soon as I opened the door without checking first, and I tend to view any time I have after that as a bonus rather than brooding, getting bitter, or attempting any hopeless heroics when faced with the possibility of my eventual demise. I mean, everybody dies sometime."

"True," Maxine acknowledged thoughtfully, "though somehow I've never been able to accept it as philosophically as you seem to. However, getting back to your father for a moment ..."

"Please," the commander said, holding up a restraining hand, "if this is going to be a long discussion, I'd like something to drink first. I seem to be a bit dehydrated after my nap. Is there any chance you have any coffee or juice about?"

"I'll get it," Laverna said, heading for the suite's kitchenette.

"Excuse me," one of the guards said suddenly. He was standing at the windows and had just parted the curtain slightly with one finger to peek out. "Did anyone hear a fire alarm?"

"No," Maxine said, speaking for the whole room. "Why do you ask?"

"There's a big crowd of people down there, just standing and staring up at the casino. Looks like a fire drill. They've got some of those black uniforms keeping the s.p.a.ce in front of the entrance clear."

"Let me see," one of the other gunman said, moving to join him. "No, it must be a newscast or somethin'. See, those lights ... and there's a camera!"

Max felt a vague twinge of alarm. She really didn't believe in coincidences, and a news team appearing while they were holding a megamillionaire hostage ...

"Hey! Look at the babe! They must be shooting a commercial."

"Yeah?" the third gunman said, suddenly attentive. So far, he had resisted joining his colleagues, staying at his post on the far side of the room. "What's she look like?"

"Can't see her too well," came the response. "I think she's only wearing body paint, though. C'm'ere and look."

A sharp rapping at the room door froze everyone into a startled tableau. The guards at the window let the curtain drop back into place and stood, hands on their weapons, waiting for orders.

The knock came again, and the guard closest to the door shot an inquiring glance at Maxine, who answered with a silent nod.

Flattening against the wall beside the door, the guard drew his weapon, then reached out and put his hand over the peephole used to check visitors. It was an old trick, and a normal precaution against someone shooting through the door when they saw the dot of light visible from the other side change as someone looked through.

Nothing happened.

Moving carefully, the guard slowly turned the doork.n.o.b, then threw the door open with a jerk.

"Good evening. My name is Beeker. Forgive the intrusion, but I'm with-oh! There you are, sir."

The guard gaped helplessly as the butler strode past him and into the suite.

"Hey, Beek!" Phule called in greeting. "I was wondering how long it would take you to show up."

"It's good to see you, sir," Beeker said unemotionally. "If I might say so, you're looking well."

"Beeker, what are you doing here?" Laverna demanded, emerging from the kitchenette.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo, Laverna." The butler flashed a quick smile. "I was simply-"

"If I might interrupt," Maxine broke in, her voice dripping with cold sarcasm, "could somebody search this man for weapons, if it's not too much trouble, and shut that door!"

Her words broke the spell, and the guards galvanized into action. The door to the corridor was quickly closed, and one guard patted the butler down in a careful search while another stood by, weapon at the ready.

"He's clean," the searcher said,, but missed the withering glare his victim gave in answer to this report.

"Now then, Mr. Beeker," Maxine purred, "I believe you were about to explain what you're doing here."

"Ah, you must be Mrs. Pruet." Beeker smiled. "I've heard so much about you, it's a real pleasure to meet you at last. And it's just 'Beeker,' if you please."

He gave a small half-bow in Max's direction.

"As to my presence," he continued, "I should think that would be obvious-to Ms. Laverna, at least. I am Mr. Phule's butler, ma'am, and my place is with him, regardless of circ.u.mstances. Simply put, when you acquired the company of my employer, you acquired us both. While I apologize if this presents an unexpected inconvenience for you, I'm afraid I must insist. It's a package deal."

"I ... umm ... think you've gone a little overboard with your conscientiousness, Beek," Phule said, smiling in spite of his concern. "Your presence really isn't required-or appropriate. I suggest you leave."

"Nonsense, sir," the butler chided. "As you are aware, under the terms of our contract you may define my duties for me, but the method by which I execute them is left to my discretion."

"I could fire you," the commander suggested, but again the butler shook his head.

"Quite impossible, I'm afraid. That would require giving written notice, not to mention-"

"It's too late, anyway," Maxine said, cutting the exchange short. "You see, Mr. Phule, now that ... Beeker ... has seen fit to join us, I'm afraid that ..."

Another knock at the door interrupted them.

It was an indication of how rattled the guard was that he simply opened the door without taking any of his earlier precautions.

"Room service!"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken," the guard said. "We haven't ordered anything."

He glanced back over his shoulder for confirmation.

"I'm afraid I did," Beeker declared. "Forgive me, but I took the liberty of ordering a meal for Mr. Phule. Over here, please!"

The short, dark, white-coated waiter wheeled the tablecloth-covered service cart into the room past the hapless guard.

Laverna frowned. "What's the matter, Beeker? Didn't you think we'd feed him?"

"Did you?" the butler asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, as a matter of fact ... I mean, he's been sleeping ..." she stammered, but the butler came to her rescue.

"No need to apologize," he said. "I'm aware of Mr. Phule's eating habits, such as they are. That is, in fact, what prompted me to order a meal without bothering to check first. Certain things can almost be taken as a.s.sumed."

"Well, can I a.s.sume that someone is going to search the waiter?" Maxine prompted, making no effort to hide her annoyance. "And will you please shut that door!"

The guards hastened to carry out her bidding.

"And while you're at it, check to see if there's anything besides food on those covered plates."

The guard who had just finished searching the waiter started to reach for one of the metal covers on the cart, but the waiter knocked his hand away in a sudden show of anger.

"Do not touch the food," he snarled. "I fix myself for the captain. Here ... I show you plates."

Startled by this abrupt display, the guard stepped back.

"Just a moment!" Maxine said, rising to her feet. "Did you say that you prepared the food? And how did you know ..."

Her eyes darted to the door to the corridor.

"For that matter," she said, "isn't there supposed to be a guard outside that door? Would somebody please check to see ..."

A shrill noise interrupted her.

All eyes turned toward Beeker, as the butler glanced at his wrist communicator, from which the sound was emanating.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," he said calmly, carefully hitching up his trouser legs before sitting abruptly on the floor. "In fact, I would strongly suggest that no one in the room have any portion of their persons above the height of waist level when the sound stops. If you'd, care to join me, sir?"

Without hesitation, Phule slid off his chair to lie beside the waiter, who was already squatting next to the service cart.

"What in the world ...?"

"The man's saying get down, Max!" Laverna cried, throwing herself to the floor.

"Oh, very well," Maxine grumbled, lowering herself gingerly.

The guards lost no time diving to the carpet as the room seemed to explode.

BA-AM-BAM-BAM AM-BAM-BAM-AM-AM.

Salesmen for Phule-Proof Munitions claimed, with some justification, that merely the sound of one of their Rolling Thunder belt-fed shotguns was sufficient to intimidate most opponents. However, few, if any, attempted to convey, or even consider, the effect of four of these same weapons being fired simultaneously in a close s.p.a.ce.

AM-BAM-AM-AM-BAM-AM-BAM.

Large chunks were being blasted from the wall separating the living room from the corridor outside. Through the holes, if anyone dared to raise their head to look, could be seen Tusk-anini, Moustache, Brandy, and Chocolate Harry standing abreast as they swept their murderous weapons across the wall.

BAM-BAM-AM-BAM-AM-AM.

Not content with the holes, the quartet continued to fire, opening a long, ragged slot in the wall. Within the room, pictures fell and lamps exploded as more and more of the blast-driven shot poured in unhindered by the rapidly disintegrating wall. In the teeth of the carnage, Super Gnat and the Sinthian, Louie, the two smallest Legionnaires in the company, emerged from where they had been hiding on the lower shelf of the covered room-service cart, rolling sideways into a firing position with their weapons covering the p.r.o.ne criminals.

AM-BAM-BAM-AM-AM-BAM!!.

The firing ceased abruptly, but before the echoes had fully died, a row of Legionnaires who had been lying against the wall outside while the shotguns did their work over their heads rose into view, thrusting their weapons through the ruined wall to menace the entire room.

"n.o.body move!"

Rembrandt's voice cracked slightly, and seemed pitifully weak in the wake of the senses-shattering din, but no one chose to challenge her.

Ironically, considering the gaping hole in the wall, someone had to open the door from the inside to let the troops in.

As some disarmed the shaken criminals, including relieving Maxine of her sleeve pistol, others opened the drapes and waved at the crowd below.

"We got him! He's okay!" they called, and a faint cheer answered them from below.

Maxine tipped some debris off one of the chairs, then sat down on it, resting her arms on the table as a host of Legionnaires watched her carefully.

"Well, Captain," she said, "it looks like I underestimated you again."

"Actually I believe you underestimated my troops," Phule corrected, winking at the Legionnaires, who grinned back at him. "Them ... and Beeker, of course."

"Of course," Max said, sending a dark look toward the butler. "I certainly shan't forget his role in this. Well, I'll know better next time."

"Next time?" The Legionnaire commander frowned. "I really don't think there'll be a next time, Mrs. Pruet. I believe the charges against you will keep you out of circulation for quite a while."

"Nonsense, Captain," Maxine said, favoring him with a superior smirk. "Do you think it's accidental that I've never been arrested? Laverna! Please fetch me some paper and a pen."

"Do you really think you can just walk away from this?" Phule said, shaking his head in disbelief. "There's no one you can write to with enough authority to keep you from going to jail."

"And just what would that accomplish, Mr. Phule?" Max said, accepting the pen and paper from Laverna and beginning to write as she spoke. "The potential for crime on Lorelei is far too great to go unexploited. If I'm removed from my position of control, all that will happen is that another person or group will take my place-someone, perhaps, like that organization your man posed as a member of. Believe me, Captain, there are those who would be far less genteel than I in running things. As to there not being anyone who can prevent me from going to jail, you're wrong. There is one person, Mr. Phule. You!"

"Me?"

"Certainly. If you should choose not to press charges or bring my activities to the attention of the authorities or the media, I shall be free to continue my operation as normal."

"You expect me to turn a blind eye to what you've tried to do? Just because you're more civilized than most about running your syndicate?"

"No, Captain. I expect you to seriously consider a proposition of mutual advantage to both of us-a bribe, if you will. First, however, let me remind you that your stated objective was not to put me out of business, but rather to stop me from attempting to gain control of the Fat Chance. I'm prepared to offer that in exchange for my freedom."