We're Back

The War Is Over

France woke up that morning with an insatiable bloodlust. She sat up in bed and recollected the events that had occured in her husband's hospital room the previous week. First, the doctors told her and her four sons that there was a chance that Britain was going to wake up sometime in the next 24 hours. Which according to the clock on her bedside table, meant that France only had mere hours to quench the sudden need for bloodshed. Which brings her to the second event of yesterday. This one was the strangest of the lot. Some random "chick" who also happened to be France's daughter came into the room, made a mockery of her and her family and then disowned them all. However, given that that was the first time France had ever talked with the young woman she would have to interact with her further to pass a fair, unbiased judgement. Which brought her to her to-do list for the day. Picking  up her cellphone, France dialled the number of the man whom Singapore has previously claimed as her father. "Hello Asean, I have a favour to ask of you."

Brunei wasn't surprised to find that the restaurant France chose as the meeting point was one of the most expensive ones in the city. La Calle was a restaurant well renowned for its fusion cuisine and its electric chandelier with the colour changing lights on the first floor. Speaking of floors, La Calle was housed in a two storey building with approximately 15 to 35 tables on each floor. The second floor which also happened to be where the meeting was about to take place boasted 3 floor to ceiling windows with a table for two at the foot of each window. As Brunei took a seat at one of these aforementioned tables, he prayed that all was in place like Asean had promised earlier. There was too much at stake for his liking and too many unknown variables. Why had France asked to speak with him? He had never been under her tutelage but rather under Britain's. If she had called to discuss Singapore's familial ties, why not converse with the Little Red Dot instead of The Venice of the East? "Hello, you must be Brunei! My husband speaks fondly of you!" France's voice pulled Brunei out of his reverie. 

Glancing up at the woman in front of him, the likeness between France and the woman he loved was undoubtedly there. Both women carried themselves with a purpose, neither one faltering, always calculating their next move. Unlike her daughter however, France had a daunting military background having pummelled most of Europe during the Napoleonic Wars. The wars of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd coalition all ended in victories for the European country with even more military successes to boot. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance ma'am," Brunei shook her offered hand, sure to hide his nervousness. Across the street stood an office building with the top of the roof framed by the window backing the table he and France were currently seated at. The perfect place for a sniper with a nasty surprise. Now, unless those surprises came from his friends or members of his family, Brunei despised surprises. Especially the nasty kind.

Across from La Calle, Canada's heart leaped in his throat as he watched his mother converse with Brunei through the scope of his MK14. When France had asked him to undertake the task, he had been understandably hesitant at first. After all he may not know much about Singapore but he knew one thing for certain, Singapore didn't believe in empty threats. She had connections to many skilful nations and she herself knew how to dual wield a Glock19 and a Swiss army knife. However like his mother had told him that morning, Singapore had hurt his father and had practically laughed about it shamelessly just to quench a grudge she had held onto for 15 years. Double-checking his ammo, Canada clenched his teeth as he remembered the day she had waltzed into Britain's hospital ward and mocked him and his family members. Singapore forgot something very crucial that day. She forgot that a member of Canada's special elite force managed to land a confirm kill shot from 3,540 metres away. Smirking slightly, Canada put his earpiece in place and waited patiently for the right moment. An eye for an eye.

"Tell me, are you currently courting my...daughter?" that last word sounded forced even to France's own ears. Yet it felt right somewhere deep down. Fragments of memories long forgotten began to return each time she forced herself to think of Singapore as her child. A blue ribbon so out of place among ruby locks, a sunflower seed pressed into the ground meticulously... memories like these and more would come to the forefront of France's mind and vanish again the second her mind turned to other matters. Brunei took a moment to chew his food before answering, "I suppose so...assuming one could even consider her your daughter." France took that bullet without objection. The young man in front of her had a reason to detest her after all. "I suppose you must think of me as a terrible mother," France laid out her trap. If things went according to plan, Canada would not have to be out on the rooftop for very long. "I don't know anyone in ASEAN who doesn't think of you that way. Well, other than Asean and Singapore herself actually," Brunei closed his eyes as he took a sip of his punch, giving France time to react to that sentence. Those few seconds were not wasted and it was like a dam had given way to a sea of guilt which very quickly began to drown France's mind.