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[center][url=https://i.imgur.com/1PEQlS3.png][img]https://c4.wallpaperflare.com/wallpaper/958/966/512/argentina-country-argentina-flag-abstract-other-hd-art-wallpaper-thumb.jpg[/img][/url][/center]
[b][center]THE REPUBLIC OF ARGENTINA[/center][/b][/h1][/sup][/color]
[indent][right][COLOR=white][i]July, 1955[/i][/color][/right][/indent][hr]

BUENOS AIRES - Presidential Palace

"Your excellency," There was a knock at the door, a short hesitation and then it opened to admit a tall reed-thin man with a face that was pinched like he had sucked on a lemon. "I have received word that the [i]Santos[/i] are meeting this evening."

President General Dictator for Life Hipólito Yrigoyen looked up, any trace of annoyance at being interrupted vanishing at once. "Do we know where!?" 

Pedro Brieger, Yrigoyens spymaster, shook his head. "No. We only know that they are meeting. I can not even confirm the identity of any of them well enough to try and ask more questions."

"Damn..." Yrigoyen slumped back in his plush red chair, fingers drumming on the teak desktop. For the past several months he had heard whispers of a group of military officers known as the [i]Santos[/i] meeting in secret. He did not know who they were or why they were meeting but it did not take very much imagination to discern what they might be up too. 

"I do have a possible lead, but all of my enquires in that direction have proven ineffective or hit a dead-end." Brieger had a folder in a hand that looked so thin it appeared to be little more than skin stretched over bone. "A Doctor, Lieutenant Osvaldo Soriano."

"Why him?" 

"He is known to receive letters from one Ernesto Guevara, who is not currently in country." 

Yrigoyen grunted as he stared down at this tapping fingers. Association with a known revolutionary living outside Argentina was not enough for him to arrest a military officer. He would have to tread carefully. Over the past year he had managed to "encourage" a number of high ranking officers to retire and replace them with his own men. Even so, one did not send the secret police to a military base and not expect trouble. He would need more proof. 

"Do you have any of the letters?" 

"No. We have tried bribing the post-master," Yrigoyen winced, recalling how poorly that had gone. "And the cleaning staffer we paid off to search his rooms found nothing."

"Known associates?" 

"He has been seen with any dozens of people, but one lady in particular, María Laura Santillán, a Journalist, spends a lot of time with him. As for male friends, all military officers, most frequently Lieutenants Francisco De Le Cal Delgado, Roberto Alemann and Mariano Moreno."

"Nobodies." Yrigoyen dismissed them all. "I was the guest of honour at their graduation. Decent enough officers but unremarkable otherwise."

Brieger raised an eyebrow. This was a point he did not agree with his President on. Junior officers were notoriously enthusiastic in their pursuit of three things, wine, women, and trouble. Delgado, for example, was already well known for having something of an issue with authority, ironic for a military man. All three played in the militaries rugby league, spent extensive time training, and were well liked by the men they led.  

"I disagree, your excellency." He waited for the black eyes to meet his. "They are all very active young men and would bear watching." 

"Watch away then. But they command no battalions or ships. Find me the Santos!" Yrigoyen snarled the last words at Brieger. "And question that girl. Carefully."
[hr]

Two blocks away, seated around a small table set with four glasses and a bottle of rum, sat the four men suddenly of such interest to the President. Sariano was the most animated among them, as was usual. 

"You see, he was written me about Guatemala. The people are suffering! We must act!" Lieutenant/Doctor Osvaldo Soriano waved the letter he held in the face of the three other men who had joined him in the gardens of the Paz Palace. 

The letter in question had been written to him by his friend and colleague, Guevara, a somewhat radical revolutionary who had shared his studies with Soriano at the University of Buenos Aires. Guevara had been popular in medical circles and spoke at length about his experiences riding his motorcycle throughout the Americas. Much of it had resonated with the young idealistic minds around him. 

Sariano himself had become a military doctor while Guevara had chosen to continue his travels. He had written to Sariano about his experiences and his idea of a united Latin America. Never one to ignore a good opportunity to debate, Sariano had tried to engage many of his fellow officers over the topic but found them largely unwilling to take part. Argentina was in a better state than some, President Yrigoyen had done the country much good before the attempt on his life. Since then he had tightened his grip on power daily until Argentines were vanishing in broad daylight, never to be seen again. Many of the reforms he had implemented were being rolled back and more and more "political prisoners" were being sent to mines or infrastructure works throughout the country as slave labour.

Sariano had begun to despair he would ever find a sympathetic ear until he had been volunteering to stand by for injuries at a rugby game where he encountered Lieutenant Francisco De Le Cal Delgado, a junior Naval Officer, who had done his own road-trip throughout the Americas and come home deeply troubled by what he found. His experience in the United States had shown him a possible future for Argentina that he did not like. He had in turn introduced Sariano to Lieutenants Roberto Alemann and Mariano Moreno. Each of them had been affected by Yrigoyen in their own way, but all of them agreed that a change needed to be made.

"Okay, we understand, but what can we do?" 

The four had jokingly called themselves the Santos, a name known only to them and one or two others. None of them knew quite how far the name had gone in the upper echelons of power. 

"We could speak to the General?" Alemann suggested, taking a sip from his glass, beads of moisture rolling down the sides to splash onto his white dress pants. He swore under his breath and brushed at the liquid. 

"And say what?" Delgado dismissed the idea. He, among them all, had realized that their amusing conversations had started to become deadly serious in the past several months. "Please, General, can you tell the man who gave you your job that he needs to stop kidnapping people." He stuck out his lower lip and spoke in a simpering tone.

"Do you have a better idea?" Alemann retorted with some amusement. 

"Remove Yrigoyen."

Complete silence fell over the small gathering as three sets of eyes stared at Delgado. They had skirted around such an act in private before, but Delgado had said it with such finality that the others were taken aback.

"Remove Yrigoyen and seize control ourselves," Delgado pressed on after a long pause. "We do it for the people of Argentina."