Our Little Secret. [NO MORE UPDATES SORRY]

Chapter 12.

"What's this contingency plan of yours?" Britain took out a flask and poured some of it's containments into his tea.

"Well it's along the lines of sneaking into Berlin, killing Third and framing it as a suicide. It's only considering the fact that his leader in currently very unhinged at the fact of America joining the war and his plans partially failing on him," Soviet fidgeted in his chair whilst attempting to explain the plan.

Britain took a minute to let the idea sink in and to add more brandy into his tea from the flask.

"And how would you even get into Berlin? Especially since he has control of all of mainland Europe and has pushed you back as far as Moscow," He took a sip of his newly made alcoholic tea. He is a man ahead of his time.

"I.... I didn't think that far ahead,"

"Oh how smart of you,"

Soviet shrink down in his chair in thought. He originally had so many ideas but like an idiot, didn't fucking write them down. Wow sounds familiar. :/

Suddenly, an idea hit him like a bolt of lightning. Or maybe it actually was lightning. No one will know unless I tell them. Kachow!

"I know! You could do it!" He got up and dramatically pointed and the Brit.

"... Come again?" Great job Soviet, you've confuzzled him.

...

Not the first time to be sure.

"I mean you can teleport, right? So I'm thinking, you go ahead of everyone and kill him, frame it as suicide,"

"Dunno man, that's a pretty tall order ya asking of me," Britain shrugged with the tea still in hand and yet somehow manAGED TO NOT SPILL. TEACH ME YOUR WAYS MAN.

Moving on..

"One. Don't go American on me please. Second. But your reaction I think another apology is in order about what happened to Poland. And third. I could pay you and as an added bonus the war could end,"

Britain chuckled and sat Soviet back down in his chair by sheer force of will and a look that can kill.

"One. You talk too much so hush child. Two. I wanna be taken seriously so I ain't going American. And three. Yeah I'll do it, got nought left to lose," Britain mocked Soviet's format on delivery information. Ouch, he be roasting everyone.

"You'll do it? Really?"

"Mhm,"

Riveting dialogue right here. Basically they planned it out real damn well. It would happen after they west had successfully landed to Normandy and had taken back France.

"So I'll meet you in Berlin?"

"After it's done of course,"

"See you then Brit,"