[pshrynk]

"I have no idea what you mean, good sir!" said Biggles.

"Apparently not," said Harv as he dusted off Biggles' sombrero, "I mean no one would come to Cuba dressed as a cross between a Panamanian pimp and a Mexican tourist attraction if he were with the Army OSI. We leave that for MI6, now don't we?" He winked broadly.

"Oh, you're in the OSI, also? Oh, bugger!"

"Nope, just a concerned fellow citizen who has some experience with Military Intelligence." Harv refrained from adding the perquisite assessment of oxymoronist juxtaposition.

"Well, my very life is in your hands, Mr..."

"Wallbanger. Harv Wallbanger." For some reason, Harv felt the need to straighten up and order a martini. "And you are?"

"Major Geoffrey Biggles, at your service! I suppose it's far too late to try and give you my cover name. Oh, Bloody Hell! I'm making an absolute hash out of all this!"

"First time in the field, then, Biggles?" Harv instinctively knew that no one ever called his new acquaintance Geoffrey.

"Well, it was a plum assignment that came up just as all the other field agents were out on... er other business..." Biggles trailed off and looked distressed.

"Well, good for you, then! What was it you were supposed to be doing, so we can get you back on track? Starting with an actual costume change that might not get you killed, I might add."

"Well, there's this poker game that is going to happen here in Havana within the week and I need to get into the tournament in order to block something very horrible from happening."

"You play poker?"

"I read a book on the passage over."

"Oh bugger!"