On the plane, half asleep, heading home:
'How did you know?'
'How did you know I didn't do it?'
'Is this a trick question? What do you mean—how did I know?'
'I drew you and the others into an ambush—'
'The evidence was stacked against me—'
'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'
(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.'
'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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