On the plane, half asleep, heading home:

'How did you know?'

'What?'

'How did you know I didn't do it?'

'Is this a trick question? What do you mean—how did I know?'

Pause.

'I drew you and the others into an ambush—'

'Unknowingly.'

'The evidence was stacked against me—'

'Circumstancial.'

Pause.

'You even watched me confess that I did it -'

'Under duress. To mislead the enemy.'

'Yes, but... what made you so sure?'

'Are you insane?'

'Humor me, tovarish'

Pause.

(Sigh). 'Character, of course. You could no more be a traitor than a...than a beatnik, Napoleon.'

'Oh, is that right?' Pause. 'Ah... that's a pretty good bruise there, where I socked you.'

'I was striving for authenticity. Perhaps a little too hard.'

Pause.

'Couldn't be a beatnik, huh?'

'Mmm. Much too square. And you could never carry off the hairstyle.'

'It's just as well I have you then, isn't it? For beatnik duty, and... so on.'

(Sigh). 'Yes, Napoleon.'

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