Ex-soldier Birmingham-gangster bets his life on luck and illegalities, adroit wit and burning passion streaking his blood-stained fingertips as a dire quarrel commence between himself and the disturbed Dane who purloined his lover.
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BERSERK
THE DANISH BRENDTSEN BROTHERS were many things. Corrupt, deceitful, heathens, and good old-fashioned bad men. Bjørn more than Mark, he had to be, for it was him who ran the show. He who called the shots, one particular being to tell Nikolaj of his wife's great betrayal. It was not the tragic death of Peter Karlsen which had encouraged him to look into the pair's business. No, it had been back when Bjørn was nearly strangled to death by Nikolaj Brogaard.
Undecidedly whether or not he wanted to get back at Nikolaj for humiliating him so, Bjørn made the bold decision of having some men dig into their accounts. Their affairs, deadlines, taxing, network, as well as how their money was spent. Bjørn could not care how it was that his man had found out, but as he got the word and good proof that Nikolaj's wife, Ines, had been making a four-day stop in Birmingham, he got curious. When it later was revealed that she had old acquaintances there, he was shocked and exceptionally delighted to find that she visited the English, ill-famed, the Peaky Blinders.
Bjørn was proud to deliver the news, only while he stood tall and proud, Nikolaj Brogaard was close to letting his anger out on the person nearest to him, that being Bjørn himself. While Bjørn prided himself with a sly smirk and devilish backbone, Nikolaj stormed out without a word (which was utterly disappointing to Bjørn as he had hoped for a 'thank you' for his troubles). The time was only ten o'clock that day, but no time was too early for yet another verbal brawl. He could only imagine she had gone to old friends to either warn of the Italians Nikolaj had sent down the path leading to the Peaky Blinders or given them a heads-up on their soon-to-end deal with the Chicago Outfit. That spiraled his thoughts to wonder if she even had gone to the United States to speak with the Outfit, or if she too, in that field, had disappointed.
Nonetheless, he needed answers, and though he knew he would in no way be content once he got them, he dared himself to drive right back to their shared offices in the Berlin company ground.
On what had been a construction site not three months back, Nikolaj stormed past security. Dramatically as in a feature film he would have barged into Ines' office, but his reasons exceeded senses, and instead, he knocked, yet still harshly. He cursed himself as trepidation caught his footing, awaiting a response with careful ears. When it sounded and he opened the door to find his wife standing by herself over her desk of prints, he saw it fit to slam the door so that the hinges shook.
Immediately Ines detected his wrath and her frame grew strict in attitude.
She could only wonder what was the reason for his unsolicited visit, this early in the morning.
"Tell me, need I fear your teamwork with a back-alley, razor gang?"
Only because they were in an office with thin walls and no wonder curious people were just outside the door, Nikolaj contained his anger.
Deafening panic arose in Ines and her expression revealed her surprise. Gulping, she felt her heart form a lump in her throat and her eyes flickered to the door. Gosh, she wanted nothing but to run out of it. Her naive mindset decided it proper and not too hopeful to deny his claims.
