Rogue Razor

Berkeley withdrew a letter from the box. He read it, and tore it up.

Damn Peter! He thought.

Natasha stood at the post, she stiffened when she saw Berkeley on his horse. “Open the gate!” He commanded. Natasha was already reaching for the lever before he uttered the command.

Berkeley stormed into the building after tying his horse to the post outside. He was beyond mad, he was enraged. Peter and Eisenhauer were meeting behind his back again. Soldiers moved out of the way as he entered one of the meeting rooms.

His rage multiplied when he saw Ivan there too.

His mind went blank with rage.

“Who let him in?!” Berkeley snarled. Ivan shrugged, he wore the Paknovian emblem on his chest.

Fascist fucker! Berkeley thought, but there would be consequences to not allowing his men to come in and throw Ivan out the window, sure, they would not be as large as throwing a highly respected commander of a nation they had a strained relationship with, but if any more information came about, he knew he would either have a stroke, or attack Peter with his own bare hands.” Either would be just fine. And Berkeley resisted the urge to ignite a war between Acutera and Paknov.

“What is the meaning of this!?” He demanded again. “Why is Ivan here? Why is Peter here? Why did you do this Beckett?”

“We were discussing the terms of the integration program.” Eisenhauer responded. You refused to attend our first meeting.

“I was in Ywvn during that time, do not forget that Beck!” He snapped. He turned to Ivan. “Ivan, you shall leave now.”

Ivan walked out the door.

Fuming, Berkeley turned back to Eisenhauer. “You let that spy in?”

“With all due respect, he’s far too valuable to be a spy.”

Berkeley grinded his teeth. “How would you know that? The best spy could be the one you can’t kill! He’s been their golden boy since day one! He’s probably lined up to be the next dictator of their regime! If he wasn't, we would have shot him on sight!”

“Not a spy if you know it's a spy,” Peter interjected.

“And you!” Berkeley turned to Peter. “Why the hell do you need Ivan to greenlight our plans? How much does he even know about our integration plan?”

Peter took the toothpicks out of his mouth. “Sadly, little enough we might need to have this meeting again.”

Berkeley clenched his fists. Beckett might have been right about Ivan not spying. But it was Peter who pointed out that Ivan wasn't considered a spy. That was what filled him with confidence of there being no breach of security.

Peter was a hell of a lot more intelligent than Beckett, obviously, since, had it been anyone else, there would have been no way Beckett would have allowed this meeting to occur, Peter and Beckett were friends. But their allegiance was to Berkeley, not to each other. If Berkeley ordered them to attack each other, he supposed their little friendship would end immediately.

There were few people who feared Peter. Those people were not any of the people in the room however.

“What did you propose?” Berkeley asked.

Peter twirled his pick. “I proposed taking the abandoned military base in Brelkon.”

Berkeley turned to Beckett. “That was your base.”

Beckett shrugged, just like Ivan did. Berkeley grinded his teeth at the reminder.

“You didn't decommission that base, did you?”

“No sir. It was the decision of the council.”

Berkeley bit his bottom lip. “And are you going to let him?”

“I am not sure.”

Berkeley blinked. “Not sure? What do you mean? Peter-”

Then he realized:

Peter and Beckett hadn't been agreeing on something about the base in Brelkon, they had been arguing.

“Did the council allow it?”

‘They didn’t allow anything or deny anything, sir.”

Expected, Berkeley thought, but still, they didn’t say a word?

“So they aren’t concerned with weakening the defense of Brelkon?”

“It's just a training camp, so I don’t think they would be concerned with that at the moment.”

Berkeley had waited for Eisenhaur to finish his sentence, before snapping back at him angrily.

“I didn’t ask for what you thought, did I Lieutenant? I asked for what the council told you!”

“They did actually tell us something.” Peter interjected again.

Leave it to Peter to defend his… whatever relationship he has with Beckett. Berkeley thought.

“When we went to them to ask about the base, we ended up finding out that they were considering building another one in Brelkon somewhere, specifically a newer one with better technology.” Peter continued.

Technology. Berkeley heard that word thrown around a lot, especially by Versudi researchers who would come in and out of Aetlean-neighboring countries, ecstatic with every little discovery that came out.

It didn’t matter how much technology they had, if they couldn’t see eye to eye, or worse, communicate properly, they were doomed as a nation. This is the reason why Berkely respected Peter in ways he didn’t with Beckett. Peter, as blunt as he was, knew how to get ideas across as fast and as clear as possible, so Berkely could excuse his behavior.

“If you didn’t know whether you would approve Peter’s request, why did you follow him to the Council?”

“I was interested?”

Berkeley squeezed his fists tighter. “You were interested?”

“Correct, sir.”

Correct me if I am wrong, “You left your post, because you were interested with Peter’s proposal, a proposal you ended up being indecisive on, then you returned, and argued with Peter about… Something? Then you invited that fascist prick over to discuss Peter’s plan with him?

“I… Actually, It was Peter that invited Ivan. And, about security, Natasha was on guard.”

Berkeley looked at Peter.

“Correct. That is true sir.”

Berkeley contained his anger yet again. “And why did you do that?”

Peter actually pondered this for a second, then he responded; “I trusted him. There was no information that could be used against us, this was purely an Aldarian related discussion. Plus, the plan is to have as much jurisdiction as possible, without complications.”

“And did he agree?”

“No sir, like I said earlier, we would have to continue the meeting some other time.”

Finally, Berkeley let his anger get the best of him.

“For fucks sake Peter! Why not tell me all of this? Why have this meeting behind my back?”

“You were in Ywvn.”

“Yes! So why send me an invitation?”

“It wasn’t an invitation. I was simply notifying you of the meeting.”

“And what were you and Beckett arguing about then, the plan?”

“No, sir. We were having a simple discord over our opinions about Aldarian policies in general, which was not related to anything. Except, of course, the plan, and very loosely at that.”

He didn’t know how to respond, so he gave up.

“Continue your discussion with Beckett about the project, but I will tell Natasha to order our men to shoot that fascist bitch if he comes back.”

Berkely began to walk out, but he stopped when a question popped into his mind.

“Oh and one last thing, what will you even call this project anyways?”

Peter smacked his hand together. “The Association of Federal Heroic Agents. AFHA as an acronym.”

Berkeley made his way outside and rode his horse back home.

Again, Berkeley didn’t know who he was more angry at. It slowly became clear that Peter was the cause of these things. It was Peter who requested the abandoned base in the first place, It was Peter, who invited Ivan over to discuss the terms of this organization, and it was Peter, who argued with Beckett.

But Berkely was biased against Peter, and he knew this well. Peter is a terrible subordinate, but he would be a damn good leader. And Berkley had offered that to Peter, not once, but numerous times.

He had offered Peter to be next in line for a general like him, as Berkley knew his health was deteriorating, and if he was soon to be deemed unfit, he might as well choose the next candidate. And although Peter was not seen in a very trusting way by the council, his eligibility was indisputable. In fact, he even qualified for general of the army, to the shock of many, including Berkely.

But of course, being the superficial bastard he was, Peter rejected all offerings and refused.

Berkeley could never figure out why. But eventually, he chalked it up to Peter being Peter.

Or as others who saw him less favorably would say, Peter being an a-hole.