Bish leaned back in his chair and sized up the woman across the table.<span style="font-style: italic">The President? Of what?</span>he wondered to himself. He guessed that she must be the leader of some women’s auxiliary flying group, or something like that. He hadn’t heard of Squadron No. 414 RCAF, but that wasn’t unusual. There were a lot of squadrons in southern England and pilots were only told what they needed to know. He was a little surprised to hear they had a female pilot on active duty in a war zone, though. In any case these were indeed desperate times.  With only Britain and the Commonwealth fighting against Germany, Italy, and the all the resources of occupied Europe, the British High Command would probably take any help they could get. Squinting, he reached for his drink to buy him some time to digest all this information.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Extra…terrestrial?</span>he wondered to himself. Hating to look stupid, Bish chose not to admit that he had no idea what she was talking about. Science Fiction had become a popular genre during the 1930’s, and he had seen many films like the Buck Rogers serials. Little green men from other worlds were common in those movies, but the term itself was still foreign to him. In the end Bish assumed she was referring to an aircraft that needed an extra-long runway to take off, like a heavy bomber. That made him even more interested. He then mentally wrestled with some of the other terms she mentioned, like Darlek and Gallifreyan. He assumed they were Canadian slang for Germans and British, or Italians and Scots, or some other nationalities.<br/><br/>“I am<span style="font-style: italic">dying</span>to see that plane. I have to admit I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m in. And…” he added, leaning in and whispering, “please don’t say the s- word,” referring to her use of the word ‘spy’. “People are pretty jumpy here since the Blitz. And no, I don’t think you are one of those. Those folks try to blend in. You do anything but blend,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. He then finished his lager and put the empty mug on the table.<br/><br/>“So, how do we get past the keystone cop?” he asked in a hushed tone with a mischievous smile. “Do you have a plan?”