"That is one tailfeather-kickin' stereo. I want one of those upstairs," Gabriel said wistfully.

"Yeah, sure, I really t'ink 'igh Command would let ya," Steelbeak remarked with absolute disinterest, sipping the last of his drink. He'd previously ordered a Golden Rooster with a suggestive smile toward Gabriel. "Hey! Waiter!"

She flinched. "You know, I can't believe Negaduck actually cooperated with us."

"Get me a Mooch dis time," Steelbeak told the waiter. He glanced back at his partner. "An' why not?"

"Well --"

"I noticed you didn' tell 'im who ya were." He grinned wickedly. "You got on 'is bad side, didn't'cha?"

"You might say that. I wonder what he's gonna do?" As she toyed with the little paper umbrella in her Mallard's Reef, the bartender walked up with a drink on a tray and a cordless phone. "Mitch." She winked at him in salutation, twirling the umbrella between her fingers. "To what do I owe this honor? You don't usually leave your bar."

"Phone for you." Mitch handed her the phone, and said quietly, "Guy on the other end wanted to talk to someone from F.O.W.L.. How did he know to call here? He doesn't sound like one of ours."

"Star sixty nine." Steelbeak rolled his eyes as he took the drink. "Ya stirred dis, right?"

"Yes." Mitch dropped his voice to a strained whisper. "If you guys are gonna make business calls, don't use the main line! You wanna get us busted? They could have this place bugged already for all we know!"

Gabriel scoffed. "I can handle it, Mitchy. Don't worry." She pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes playfully, then took the phone. "Hello?"

"You know who this is?"

She stiffened. Negaduck. He figured out who I am, and -- oh crap! "Yes." Gabriel said, barely keeping her cool.