Arthur was out of breath by the time he reached the office. He'd run from the pool all the way here. The smartest thing would have been to grab his car, but that was in the opposite direction and he needed to get there as fast as he could
Bending over he placed his hands on his knees and took in a deep breath trying to catch it back.
Running a hand through his still semi-damp hair he straightened up and walked into the building. The fluorescent lights a stark contrast to the darkness outside.
Arthur quickly made his way over to the elevators and pressed the up button and waited for it.
Why would Fred suddenly decide to form an alliance with the British Empire? It made no sense to him, after all, Arthur had made it quite clear the last time that there was no way he would ever join that mans army. So why did Fred think that his answer would change in this war?
The elevator dinged, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts.
'Oh well.' He thought, he'd just have to make sure to emphasize that there was absolutely no way he'd join forces with that man.
Especially not against America…
He walked into the Elevator, just barely getting in before the doors closed. He rode all the way to the top floor and stepped into his boss's office. Well technically his boss was the queen but most war alliances were left up to the prim minister to make these days (With the queens consent after words of course).
The minister stood up when Arthur stepped into his room. "Thank you for coming at such an hour, Mr. Kirkland." He said, holding a hand out to shake hands with the man centuries older than he, but who looked much younger.
"It's no problem." He answered, moving over to the mahogany desk and took Mr. Smith's hand. He wasn't as tired as he should be (after all it was four in the morning and he'd been up since six the morning before) but he just couldn't sleep, even if he wanted too…
Smith motioned for Arthur to sit down, and Arthur took up the offer.
"If you don't mind I'd like to get right to business." Mr. Smith said, leaning forward his hands crossed in front of him on the table.
Arthur nodded in understanding. He didn't feel like beating around the bush either. "Yes sir. You said that the confederates want to form an alliance with us?"
The prim minister nodded. "Yes, and I must say that I'm a bit surprised that they would turn to us of all nations. It's a known fact that we've been in a recession far longer than most other countries. We do not have the financial stability to be in a war, and I'm positive that their leader knows this…" He trailed off.
Arthur frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. Even if Fred had just recently came back into existence, Arthur couldn't imagine him not being aware of other countries finances. Fred was nothing like Alfred. The man actually planned things out, it had been a miracle that the Union had actually won in the first place. But the lack of resources, supplies, and people weren't an issue for the Confederacies anymore.
Alfred might not win this war… but that wasn't any of England's concern anymore. If that bastard didn't make it ou alive it was his own damn fault. It's not as if Arthur cared about what happened to him, he'd stopped that a long time ago.
Or so he kept telling himself…
"I wanted to know your ideas about this before I made my decision." Mr. Smith said, breaking the silence in the room. "After all your opinion is much more valuable to the queen than mine is." There was no bitterness in his voice, he'd long since come to understand why the man before him was so important.
England stayed quiet, not really sure how to respond to that statement. Sure he was used to prim ministers being jealous that sometimes his words counted a bit more than theirs. But really in most cases people didn't care what he had to say about things. Only the royal family and the prim ministers knew about who he really was, and every one else was left in the dark about such matters. It was harder for most ministers to accept that not only was he a country personified, but that he was many years older than he looked; many years older than they themselves were.
"I don't think we should involve ourselves in this war. It is America's fault for being in it in the first place. It's high time he learned to take care of his mistakes himself." Arthur responded, rather harshly. "And it's as you said, we've been in a recession for a long time now." He still got sick sometimes, thankfully it wasn't anything full out like a fever; most of the time he just felt sick to his stomach. "To offer our services to either side would be unwise."
The minister nodded. "Alright. I will take your opinion into consideration. I want I need you to be at the palace by noon tomorrow. I will be presenting my decision to the queen, and I would like you to be there."
Arthur nodded, and stood up, taking notice of the dismissal in Smith's voice. "Alright I'll be there. Have a good evening sir."
"You too, Mr. Kirkland."
A heavyset man sat behind a desk with his head in his hands. He felt terrible about what he was doing but it had to be done… for the sake the sake of his country he had to do it.
He frowned deeper at the irony.
Leaning forward he grabbed the phone off of the desk took out a folded piece of paper. He quickly dialed the number on the paper and waited of the man to answer.
"Why hello. I though you'd be calling soon." The voice on the other line was arrogant, and the plump man could hear the smirk in his tone. "He just left my office I suppose you'll be taking it from there?" Yup! He'll be off your hand and our of your hair in no time!" his thick southern American accent grated on the mans nerves. "So which entrance can I expect his holiness to come out of?"
"The front. However, I'm sure that if he feels like he's being watched he'll take another way home than the way he came."
There was silence for a moment before the man answered again. "You didn't let anything… slip did you…?" his voice was cold and it sent a chill down the fat mans spine.
"No, o-of course I didn't!" he responded nervously beginning to sweat slightly. He might not have been alive that last time this guy was, but he'd heard plenty of stories about him to be very afraid.
The man hummed. "I suppose it wouldn't matter if you did tell him or not…" static suddenly blared in the fat mans' ear and he winced before jumping in shock when the ceiling in front of him suddenly caved in.
Dust filled the room and the man coughed, dropping the phone and covered his mouth and nose. He squinted into the dust, eyes stinging in irritation only for them to widen in shock and terror.
In front of him, in the midst of all the dust, was a tall thin man. He was dressed all in black, and even through the dust the stout man could see cold ice blue eyes staring at him above a black bandana that was covering his mouth. A hand was placed on his ear holding a small cell phone, and when the heavy man glanced down, a black pistol, topped with a silencer, rested in the other.
The man swallowed and backed up against the wall.
Most of the dust had settled down and the tall man tugged the bandana off to reveal a cold smirk. He opened his mouth and began to speak into the phone.
"I don't suppose it matters weather you told him or not." He lifted up the pistol and aimed it at the man's heart. "I was going to kill you after words anyway."
"N-no please! My fam-." Pain erupted in his chest and he felt himself falling backwards before he succumbed to darkness. The tall man watched him fall and chuckled slightly. Pushing the end button, he quickly dialed another number. "hey fatty said that our prey might take another route home."
"Roger, we already have him in our sites. It shouldn't be long before we have him."
"Good. When you've got him head back to the plane, I should be waiting there." He hung up before the man could reply and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
He glanced over at the fat man on the ground, before walking over to him minding to step around the blood. It didn't really matter if he left footprints. After all he'd be out of the country before they'd even find the minister dead. He just didn't want to dirty his shoes.
Crouching down, he felt for the mans' pulse. A small thump was felt against his fingers.
He tsked and shook his head. "You've got some rotten luck there dude," he stood up and fired another round into the mans head. "Sorry man but I'm sure you'll be nice and comfortable in hell." He laughed slightly before he glanced at the papers on the desk.
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland declares itself neutral in the affairs of America. It will not support, or supply, either the Union nor the Conferderates.
The document was sighed at the bottom by J. A. Smith with the date and time next to it. Underneath it were two more places for signatures. One of the Queen, and the other one for Arthur Kirkland.
The man smirked and picked up the pen beside the document. He quickly forged the signature and signed the date and time.
Now the first step of his plan was complete now all he needed now was his men to pull through for him.
well i suddenly had inspiration for this on Saturday morning and i could only just now update it DX hope you liked it... and review please... :(