Outskirts of Gleason, Wisconsin
September 18, 1981
5:58 PM

The black Fairlaine came to a stop at the terminus of the dirt driveway, right in front of a two-story farmhouse that was flanked by a cow pasture on one side and woods on the other. The driver, Michael Gildtalon, exited the vehicle much to the irritation of two drakes who were outside, as they started barking and hooting. A stegosaur in her fifties was standing outside the house with laundry, clad in white shirt and yellow skirt, and was watching the visitor with suspicion.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked warily.

Michael answered, “A friend of Stan’s. Is he here? I want to talk to him about something.”

The wosar slowly nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “Stan’s here. One sec, I’ll go get him.”

She turned and walked toward the house, up the steps to the porch, opened the front door, and headed inside. The two drakes were still glaring at Michael, hooting away though he took them no mind; he began tapping his foot, swaying his tail feathers, and preening his wings. Finally, the door swings open and out steps a portly Dacentrurus wearing overalls and a dirty white t-shirt who eyes the jay.

“Mike, is that you?” He asked.

The avian jokingly replies, “Nah, it’s just Barney Miller.”

The other sar laughed, “Always with the jokes eh, Mike? I see you haven’t changed since I last saw you.” Then he called to the two drakes in Polish and they immediately ran over to him, where he patted them both on the head.

Michael walked closer to Stanislaw Niemczyk, an OSS agent who had been in the field before the jay had even signed up for the Marine Corps in 1966. The former was dressed in designer clothes: a button-up shirt with a black that matched the hue of his car, brown khakis, expensive leather shoes, a gold watch, and a gold necklace. The Pole snorted, “if I hadn’t known you, me and Judy woulda mistaken you for a Mafia guy.”

“Good thing the Office doesn’t engage with the Mafia,” Michael grinned as much as he could with his beak, “we have our own headaches to worry about.”

Stan laughed, “Speaking of which, what brings you here? I haven’t seen you since La Paz in ‘79.”

The jay frowned. “Argentina,” was his response.

Stan’s mood immediately soured. He asked, “It’s about Galtieri, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Michael nodded.

The stegosaur sighed, rubbing his beak and nostrils. “I heard about this on the HAM, bastard’s prepared to oust Viola.”

Michael said, “We know Viola’s in poor health and Galtieri has been getting big for his britches since the war with Chile, though this revelation still has us concerned.”

Stan patted the drakes again before saying, “maybe we should discuss this further inside. It’s getting dark and Judy’s prepared dinner.”

“I ate at a diner in town,” Michael replied, “but I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs and wings, I’ve been driving from Merril and Milwaukee.”

The two saurians headed into the house, the drakes accompanying them; Judy was in the kitchen while The Price is Right played on the living room TV. Stan opened a cabinet next to the fridge, pulling out a partially full bottle of vodka before grabbing some shot glasses. Setting the bottle on the center counter, he asks, “Want some, Mike?”

“Sure, between the long drive and this Argentina business, I could use a good drink.”

Stan nodded as he poured the vodka, “good sar,” and then handed one of the glasses to Michael. The jay took a small sip and clicked his beak in apprehension, which caused Stan to ask, “What’s wrong, Mike, never drank vodka before?”

“No, I have, just not since St. Petersburg in ‘73.”

Stan chuckled, sipping his drink, “haven’t been there since ‘64, good times.”

Michael took another sip and then stated, “speaking of good times, the Argies finished another arms deal with the Krauts. Apparently, they’ll receive mainly cargo, AWACS, and tanker aircraft, alongside APCs and engineering vehicles.”

“Yeah, they lost a lot of those in the war so I don’t blame Viola for needing to replace them.”

“So what, the Kaiser and Chancellor Schmidt are okay with supplying the Argentine army but Gerry and Ronnie aren’t?”

Stan shrugged. “I ain’t familiar with the Germans’ foreign policy, I just know Allende snubbed them in the late ‘60s despite Herr Brandt’s efforts to butter him up. Just like how Humphrey cosied up to ol’ Salvador, Brandt supported neighboring governments who would play ball with him, regardless of whether they were in line with his political views or not.”

Michael clicked his beak again. “Schmidt’s gonna have egg on his face once Galtieri takes power, SIS reports that he plans on invading the British South Atlantic Islands.”

Stan paused before pouring himself more vodka and then swigged the glass. He sighed, “shit, I actually didn’t hear that. I knew Viola would never want to do that since he has the brains to know not to piss the Limeys off.”

Michael replied, “Galtieri doesn’t have the brains and he has great brass balls, so he thinks Argentina could take the UK on in a one-on-one fight.”

“A one-on-one fight he’s going to lose badly,” Stan grumbled. “Does the President know about Galtieri?”

“Sort of, not what I just told you, that was something SIS discovered only recently. Director Turner has been informed, I believe he wants to keep a close eye on Galtieri while covertly arranging deals to supply Valera with weapons via other countries like Australia and Mexico.”

The Pole grumbled, “deals I’m gonna have to be involved with, aren’t I?”

Michael nodded and Stan just walked off to get his dinner while the jay went into the living room and slumped into a worn flower-print loveseat. He started watching the TV as the show focused on a female contestant, a long-necked dragon.

“Damn,” the jay whistled, “look at the rack on that chick.”

Judy peered at the TV and said, “it’s just the dress she’s wearing that accentuates her chest.”

“Hm,” Michael scratched his nostril.

Just as the program cut to a “We’ll be right back after these messages” bumper, the wosar chimed, “I hear Stan might have to go to Mexico or Australia for Office business, what a crying shame. We had been settling back down over the past year and now, he’ll be abroad again.”

“Yeah, the next few months are gonna be interesting, Mrs. N.” He heard the stegosaur sighed as the two of them settled in, stewing over Argentina while watching commercials advertising fast food restaurants, cheesy soap operas, and beer.