Adolf-No, Ernie, Hand reminded himself-handed a cup of coffee to the Chief, and said with an accent that was pure Nebraska, “Here you go, Chief—black, no sugar.”

“Thanks, Ernie. Get one for Hand here. Sugar and cream?”

“No, no thanks, I like it black, too.”

“Good, good. You’ll fit in well here, Hand.” He made himself comfortable on a sofa, while Hand sat on a chair while Ernie handed him a cup.

“Alright Hand. This is how it goes. We realized after the war that the Krauts had been feeding us bunk about ‘foo-fighters’ and the like to try to scare us. We thought it was a good idea, so we tried to scare the Ruskies into thinking that we got our hands on some foo-fighters, just like we did von Braun. Truth was, we did. Got us some good fiction-warriors from the Krauts. But of course nothing real. Jesus, the Krauts couldn’t barely get the V2 to hit London, and they were supposed to have advanced technology? Heh.”

The Chief took a sip. “Then we realized that a real flying saucer had crashed in Russia.”