A/N: Takes place at an indeterminate time during the single season of the television show "Tales of the Gold Monkey".

They All Got Something To Hide Except Me and My Monkey

Jack Cutter, former Flying Tiger ace and current pilot of Boragora's only Grumman Goose, crossed his arms in front of him as he surveyed the group sitting in the port's Monkey Bar. Either personally or by reputation, each knew who the others were; none were happy to be there. The early hour meant nothing; apart from the Wednesday arrivals of the Pan Pacific Clipper plane, time tended to be somewhat subjective on the island as people came and went and things got done - eventually.

"I suppose you've all wondered why I asked you here tonight" Jack said as way of introduction.

"I'd be here anyway" Bon Chance Louie said, from his spot nearest the bar. The Frenchman was the co-proprietor of the Monkey Bar. "My only question is: Will I need to start adding up damages from any planned fisticuffs?"

"I brought pencil and paper just in case" his partner Gushie interjected, producing them from within the seat of his wheelchair.

"There aren't going to be any fights - at least none that I plan on starting. But someone conked me over the head in my room last night, and when I woke up the contents of my trunk had been tossed everywhere. Whoever it was took something, and since no one has left the island the way I figure it - the culprit is in here."

"What was taken?" Sarah Stickney White asked.

"I'd rather not say. But suffice it to say it was important to someone" he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Make that two someones. But the way I figure it, we've got a spy here."

There were various gasps and eye rolls equally distributed around the room as the comment landed on each. Jack noted it in passing, but figured any operator that worked as a spy was also probably pretty good at masking his or her emotions. He continued "For instance, I know for a fact there is a spy here that could NOT have done it."

Now the eyes around the room started looking at each other. Good. "I refer of course to Sarah."

Sarah gave a surprised, involuntary "Oh!" at her name. "Thanks, Jack. Of course you know I am. Why couldn't it have been me that did it anyway? I'm not good enough, is that it?"

Jack smiled. "Not at all, you're plenty good - but that perfume you've been wearing the past week gives you away. Even if I didn't see who did it, I would have smelled you. We can rule you out. Let's move onto our friend Todo."

Princess Koji's bodyguard and epitome of the proud Samurai tensed.

"I think no one here is a better candidate to be a spy for the Japanese than our mighty friend here" Jack continued. "He would be the..."

"Enough!" Todo yelled. "How dare you insinuate that I would...would...stoop so low as to sneak around and steal like a common thief. I am a warrior! What I want I take in honorable combat. I spit at your suggestion!" He made a sound as if to do so but Louie cut him off with a quick gesture.

"Perhaps you should wait outside, Todo" Princess Koji suggested. "I'll be perfectly fine in here, and if my honor needs defending I'll scream - or at least someone will." Bristling but obeying, Todo did as he was told and left the room to station himself outside.

"Thank you" Jack acknowledged with a slight bow.

"He's right, you know - he only reports to me. If he spied on anyone it would be his own warriors to keep them in line. He doesn't even correspond with his parents back home."

"Ah yes, always loyal to the boss. So Princess, as the Japanese magistrate for the northern half of the Marivellas you would be in a perfect position to be a spy. Got a little side business reporting back home?"

"Oh, you know how it is Jack - I have to report every now and then. And you're right, I am in a perfect position; you're just wrong about for whom. I'm actually a spy for the Chinese."

"The Chinese? We're on the same side?" When Jack had flown with the Flying Tigers, it was in the aid of China against Japan.

"Sides can be so complicated, and with a war coming things can get even more difficult to figure out. I just like to find someone I can trust, someone I can rely on, someone...I'd like to get to know a lot better." Her eyes swept the pilot from head to toe and a slight smirk appeared on her face.

Jack immediately had visions of her sitting in a hot bath soaking, as she tended to be when conducting business at home. He tried to wipe the notion from his head. "Okay, then you wouldn't have a reason to do it then."

"Unless it was to cart you off for myself" Koji purred. "Just do me a favor and don't tell Todo; he might commit seppuku if he found out I was working with the Chinese. Good help is so hard to find sometimes."

Jack shook his head to clear it, still trying to ignore the comment about being carted off; especially helpful with Sarah in the room. "Well, those were my likely suspects. At least I can depend on Corky to be who he is" he said, turning to his friend and mechanic.

"That's right, Jack. But there's something I was supposed to tell you. Now what was it?" he said as he pondered his poor memory, courtesy of a few barrels too many of whatever alcohol was nearby during the last decade.

"Was it who hit me over the head?"

"Come on Jack, I'd remember that! No, it was something else...oh yeah, I'm a spy too."

"You?"

"Sure. I report back to Peru when I can remember."

"Peru? Corky, they don't even have a military!"

"They may not have much of one, but I needed some help when I was working down there and in return I'm supposed to relay anything important that comes up around here. Good thing nothing ever happens, or I'd have to remember to do it."

"Right. Okay, I think that lets Corky off the hook. Sort of. Maybe I'm thinking in the wrong direction. Let's look at Reverend Tenboom."

Willie Tenboom wiped his sweaty forehead. "Judge not lest ye be judged" he said half-heartedly.

"Oh I don't know...as the only person around here that speaks with a German accent I'd say you just might not be Dutch after all - doing a little work for some friends in the Gestapo maybe?" Jack queried as he stared at the missionary.

"Gestapo? I have no friends there, or the SS while you are at it. I admit, I have contact with them but there is a reason - I am a double agent for the Netherlands."

"You really ARE Dutch?"

"Assuredly, Jack. Germany placed me here, but it was with the full consent and intent of the Netherlands. I may have found, a, um...calling here with the natives, but my loyalty lies with my home back in Europe. I consider you all my friends, and wish no harm to come to you - and as long as I can stay here I will continue to omit certain, ah, details in my reports for the benefit of the people of Bora Gora." Willie mopped his brow again, but the relief of his secret no longer being held was evident as he smiled and relaxed a bit.

"I seem to be rapidly running out of suspects. Louie, what do you know about Gushie?"

Louie pondered the question. "About as much as anyone, I suppose. I knew none of you before I came here. Gushie was one of the first people I met, and as a business partner I can say that he is honest."

"How about as a spy?"

"Jack, tonight seems to be a rare night of honesty and candidness. Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Jack turned to the wheelchair-bound man. "Well Gushie, you don't have an accent. You don't make it a point to go off the island. Are you a spy?"

Gushie smiled. "That depends; define 'spy'."

Jack stepped back a pace. "I knew it! Okay, maybe I didn't know it. So what is it Gushie - double agent? Triple agent?"

"I report to the Red Sox."

"So, you...what? The Red Sox? The baseball team?"

Gushie wheeled around as he spoke; his lack of legs didn't allow him to pace. "I played ball before I lost my legs in the Great War, but now I work as a scout for the baseball team. They got word that you might have faked your injury, so it's my job to watch you and figure out if you're bluffing so they can sign you up. Competition for players is pretty fierce - you have no idea what we have to go through to get some guys."

"Why would I fake my own injury to leave the game? I loved playing baseball."

Gushie shrugged. "I don't know; that's all they told me to look out for. Off the record think that you're telling the truth; you certainly can't throw a punch like you should."

"Hey!" Jack started to object, then stopped. There wasn't much point in raising a fuss about the point. "Well that does it. I'm out of suspects; I guess everyone can leave. I was sure it was one of you." He rubbed the back of his head again as the people slowly filtered out of the bar until Louie was the only other person left.

"Jack, you never questioned me" Louie said as he poured himself a drink. "Owner of a bar where every visitor to port comes, magistrate of the French southern half of the Marivellas and I'm even the closest thing to a doctor around - why don't you think it could have been me?"

"At this point Louie, I don't care if it's you or not. I don't think you would resort to a crack on the head; you could just slip me a Micky and I'd never know. The way everything else worked out, I figure with your French accent you probably DON'T report to France even if you were a spy."

Louie laughed. "That, mon ami, is the first thing you have gotten right this evening. I do not report to France."

Jack wearily looked at Louie. "But you DO report to someone, right? Why should you be any different about sending in reports."

"Oh, occasionally I do. You see, I am what you would call...an alien, although we prefer the term off-worlder. This planet is not my own even though I have become somewhat attached to it. I have been sent to observe only, and to report on the human condition." For a brief moment Louie's eyes flashed a bright green color before they returned to their previous hue.

Nodding his head, Jack laughed. "It makes sense - somehow, it really does. You've been so many places and seen so many things, but you never give any details about how you got there. How long are you supposed to stay here with us humans?"

"Who can say? I will stay for as long as I am asked. In the meantime, I do what I can and help here and there in small ways. How does the saying go? 'I have no dog in the race', yes?"

"Ruff!"

"Sorry, Jake, it was just an expression. But I do have my favorites, and I do consider you a friend Jack; maybe the best on this whole planet, eh?" Louie poured another shot, added one for the pilot, and proposed a toast with his. "To spies like us!"

"Speak for yourself" Jack said, taking the drink and clinking the glass before downing it. "But if it wasn't you or any of them, it only means one thing."

"That there is a guest that we haven't seen yet; yes, I am thinking the same thing. All in good time I suppose, before they reveal themselves to us."

"Well, as far as today I guess I'm the only one here who isn't a spy."

"Ruff! Ruff!"

Jack looked down at his dog Jake, who either winked or blinked at him with his one good eye. "Wait, two barks means yes. What do you mean, Jake?" The dog ran out of the room for a few moments, and returned carrying a crucifix.

"Wait," Jack said incredulously "you're a spy...for the Vatican?"

"Ruff! Ruff!"

The End

A/N: I was talking about a previous story from the Wings fandom with a friend and this show got mentioned as another series that had an airplane as primary means of transport; I got to thinking that maybe I'd watch a few episodes again and come up with a story. This is the result.

And yes, the title is a play on the Beatles song.