Pam held the fax sheet in her hands.  She smiled and emailed Jim.

Jim,

You ready to go?  I've got the papers ready.

Pam

Jim did not reply; he simply walked up to Pam's desk and took a few jellybeans from the glass dish. 

"Hey, you wanna go out to lunch?" he asked.

"Sure," Pam agreed.   "Let me just forward the phones."  Jim took up his messenger bag as she forwarded the phones.  He met her on her side of the desk and she quietly and cautiously put the papers into the bag.  She knew if the fax came in while she was gone, no one would bother to check the machine. 

Pam picked up her purse and headed out the door with Jim.  They stopped at their destination: Kinko's.  Pam got out of the car and ran into the store while Jim went into the sandwich shop next to the Kinko's to get their lunches.  Pam faxed the papers quickly and went back out to the car, tossing the papers in the trash on her way out.  They could not be caught with the evidence.

Jim was still in the sandwich shop, so Pam met him in there.  She walked out with him and the two went back into the car and headed back to the Dunder-Mifflin office.

They were surprised when they returned to the sound of Dwight yelling.  It was not strange to hear him yell, but they were both curious what he could be yelling about.

Pam covered her smile as she noticed that Dwight was waving papers covered in Russian words in Andy's face.   Pam leaned over to Jim and whispered, "This is better than we had planned!  I never expected anyone to check the machine!"

"This is great," Jim agreed under his breath.  "Uh, hey, Dwight, what's going on?" he asked, setting his sandwich down on his desk for the time being. 

"Andrew Bernard is a SPY!" Dwight accused.

Jim wrinkled his eyebrows and glanced at the camera, which was now coming closer to the situation.  "Why would you think that?"

"Oh, maybe because he IS!"

"That's a... strong argument, there, Dwight," Jim said, suppressing his laughter. 

"Yeah, how do you know Andy's a spy?" Karen asked, now leaning against her desk. 

"On Friday, I found very suspicious receipts in the trash can--MY trash can.  I've told Andy a thousand times not to throw his trash away in MY trash can, but I suppose this time it was a good thing he did," Dwight said.

"And what exactly was found in your waste basket?" Andy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Only a receipt from an online purchase," he said, pulling it from his desk drawer.  "Thank you for visiting SpySupply.com.  Your order of one Super Secret Camera, two Microphone Cufflinks, and one Russian-English dictionary will be in the mail within five business days.  Please visit us again.  Customer name: Andrew Bernard.  Company Name: Vodkaski.  Company Address: Red Square, Moscow, Russia."

Pam had to cover a laugh with a cough. Brilliant.  Simply brilliant.  Pam grinned.  She was dating a pranking genius.

Jim nodded his head with a serious look.  "That does sound like pretty hard evidence," Jim said.  "Andy, what do you have to say to that?"

"It's Drew, Big Haircut," Andy stated bitterly.  "And those accusations are sheer nonsense.  Why on earth would a successful Cornell graduate like myself be a Russian Spy?"

"Fact: Bernard is a German surname," Dwight stated.  "Fact: Germans have a history of socialism.  Fact: Russians are also socialists.  Fact: you purchased spy supplies on the internet, including a Russian-English dictionary.  Therefore, you are a Russian spy."

About this time, Michael returned from his lunch.  He heard Dwight's "Fact" speech and looked at the Assistant to the Regional Manager curiously.

"Uh, Dwight, what's, uh, what's going on?" Michael asked cautiously.

"Andrew Bernard is a Russian Spy.  It is my duty as and American to bring him to justice."

"Okay, Dwight," Andy said arrogantly.  "First of all, I didn't even buy those things.  I've never heard of 'SpySupply.com', and second--I'm not a spy!"

"Can you guys keep it down?  I'm trying to make a call," Stanley said from his desk, holding his hand over the receiver of his phone. 

"Okay, alright," Michael muttered, now walking between Dwight and Andy.  "I think we need to take a moment, take a step back, and just... calm down.  Alright?  Dwight, I am sure that when they hired Andy, they did a full background check."  He paused and looked at Andy.  "Right?"

Andy nodded.  "Absolutely.  Everything checked out.  It does every time."

"And really," Michael continued, "what we should be asking Andy is, if he is a spy, when do we get to see his sexy Russian supermodel spying partner?  Huh?  Isn't that what we all wanna know?" Michael gave one of his cheesy smiles to the camera and nudged Jim, who was next to him, with his elbow.  "Ah, you don't care--you've got Pam," Michael muttered when he saw the indifference on Jim's face.

Andy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest again, this time more firmly than before.

"Then what's this fax all about?" Dwight asked, holding it up.

Michael took it from his hands.  "It's not even in English.  This proves nothing."

"It's in Russian--it proves everything," Dwight argued.

"Hey, I took Russian in college," Jim offered.  "You... want me to translate it?"

"Yes, please do," Michael said, handing the fax to Jim.

"It's probably just a satisfied customer telling me how much they love me," Andy mumbled with a smug grin.

"No, I really doubt that," Jim muttered.  "Alright, so, it says..." Jim paused, "reading" the fax.  "Andrew Bernard, we thank you for your assistance in Operation Vaganova.  Your execution of the Albrechtman was nothing less than perfection.  With sincere thanks, M. Barishnikov."  Jim blinked once, furrowing his brows in curiosity.

"Isn't... Barishnikov a famous dancer or something?" Karen asked.

Jim shrugged.

Andy closed his eyes.  "I am NOT a Russian spy!" he called out. 

"Well, then, maybe you're a Russian dancer," Michael interjected.  Jim smiled and looked at the camera, holding in a laugh.