[pshrynk]

Major Biggles sat at his desk, thinking of what to include in the report on the South American Revolutionaries that was due in ten minutes. He had not actually read anything other than a five year old report out of Panama that noted that there had always been Revolutionaries and probably always would be. But that seldom stopped him from writing highly illuminating reports that were quite frequently actually read for a few paragraphs before bieng filed.

He idly wondered if there might be someone's lunch in the office refirgerator.

"BIGGLES!" came the dulcet tones of his superior officer.

"Sah!" he responded.

"HAUL IT IN HERE!" Biggles superior was of the opionion that "newfangled" office equipment such as intercoms were for sissies.

Biggles jumped up and marched sharply into Colonel Edwards' office. He glanced nervously at the portriat of the President on the wall next to the door, which was peppered with bullet holes. Biggles had once made the mistake of walking into the room shortly after the President had made one of his "Fireside Chats." Edwards was a died in the wool Republican and liked his target practice.

That worthy shoved a file across his desk and asked, "What do you make of this, Biggles?"

He picked it up and scanned the sheet enclosed. "Dear lord!" he exclaimed.

"Exactly! I need you to grab the next flight to Havana and check this out!"

"I am on my way! Sah!"

"One more thing, Biggles!"

"Sah!"

"I can't figure out what a Limey is doing in the Army OSI. What gives?"

"Sah?"

"The accent! What's with the accent?"

"Family heirloom, sah!"

Biggles turned smartly and marched back to his desk, the South American report fogotten. Now this was something that a careerist officer could really make some progress with!

"AND DON'T FORGET THAT SOUTH AMERICAN REPORT THAT'S DUE!!!"

Biggles groaned and sat at his typewriter.