The Canadian Connection

Ch. 12 Mamma Mia

Here's where we left off.

"Kesekese, sure ya limey bastard. The awesomeness will find it so long as you can pay. So, what do you know about the guy who has it." Gilbert demanded the possibility of having his fiscal problems solved along with something to occupy him during the coming days of sobriety a keen motivator. The Englishman snorted and scowled.

"That'sh jusht it. Nobody knowsh. All they know ish that theresh two of them, one of them'sh Asian and they have shome freaky bodyguardsh. Nobody knowsh anything else. Not me, not Alfred, not Ivan-."

"Whoa!" Gilbert abruptly interrupted with a furious scowl. "Ivan, as in Ivan Braginsky? The crazy Russian fucker who carries around a lead pipe and likes to lock people in basements?" Gilbert demanded furiously, the fire of fury alight in his eyes. Green eyes blinked in surprise and nodded.

"Yeah, he'sh here lookin' for it." Gilbert smirked darkly and cackled in glee.

"Buddy, you got a deal." Gilbert told the British man with a firm handshake and another cackle of mirth.

The sound of a blaring alarm cut through the silence of the hotel room, the screeching sound soon joined by a short lived groan of displeasure from a large bulge beneath the hotel room sheets. The groan was followed up shortly thereafter by a hand reaching out blindly from beneath the blankets until it had successfully slammed itself onto the bedside alarm, silencing it for the time being.

"Oh bloody hell, my aching head." Arthur muttered as he pushed his head out from beneath the safety of the blankets. Blinking blearily in the mild darkness of his hotel room he managed to roll onto his back to stare at the ceiling with dull green eyes.

"Alright Arthur old chap let's go over the previous night to see if we did anything we regretted shall we?" Arthur asked himself lightly. "Bully. Hmm, nobody in the bed with me, good sign for certain. Let's see now..." Arthur trailed off for a moment as he furrowed his brow in concentration, the act all the more obvious thanks to his monstrous eyebrows. "I was at the bar for the third bloody night in a row after I found out Ludwig hung about it whenever he was in town. I had a drink to seem like I belonged there. Then another, and another. After that it got a tad hazy but I remember someone going on about how Ludwig was out of the country. Then I went and gave MI6 a ring about what I found out." Arthur frowned slightly when he recalled the scathing tone the director had spoken to him on the phone. It didn't seem fair to be honest after all had Arthur not been drunk then he probably wouldn't have even heard that information in the first place. Arthur shook the memory off and resumed his narration. "After the call I went back into the bar, that fellow who had been sitting beside me had wandered off, then I started talking to Gilbert-." Arthur abruptly stopped when he recalled exactly what had transpired between him and Gilbert, his eyes widening in horror at the recollection of hiring the volatile German to try and track down the briefcase for him.

"Oh bloody hell!" Arthur swore roundly as he struggled out of bed and ran towards his pants. Upon reaching the article of clothing he rummaged through the pockets and after a few seconds of frantic digging he managed to locate his cell phone and pull the device out. Filled with terror, Arthur frantically went through his contacts only to find that he did not have the Prussians phone number recorded.

"Great blooming bollocks!" Arthur cursed, slamming a fist onto a helpless nearby table in his fury. Following several more choice curses Arthur attempted to force himself to calm down by slowly breathed in and out repeatedly. After a minute of the calming exercise Arthur let out a particularly slow breath of air.

"Okay old chap, calm down. You can fix this before anyone else finds out; there are several options in fact that are available to you. Number one, you just find the briefcase before Gilbert does, then you don't have to pay him or anything. Number two, you shoulder the embarrassment of being unable to do this job yourself and call headquarters for the money. Number three you use your own money or number four you could just kill the kraut." Arthur was really leaning towards option four but three could work as well if he couldn't hide it from Ludwig long enough to get his hands on the key as well.