The Coup
Part I
“My Lord? You have a message” Victor sighed. He knew the message meant more work. But the screen would repeat its statement until he answered it, or it cracked. Since office equipment that was broken intentionally had to be paid for out of his own pocket, Victor decided to answer the message. Thankfully, it wasn’t a live one; simply a recording from Duke Breckenridge about this week’s assignments. He knew he should be more excited about work. It was how he earned what he had. He was born to a peasant family that by sheer luck were classified as commoners, not serfs. He studied hard, was noticed by the OSI, and was sent to the Royal Military Academy. He became an officer and knight, and began work in the Intelligence department. Now, he was a Colonel. He was very good at his work; the shell game in Brazil had been an idea he collaborated with the top minds of the OSI, and he actually got to work in the field out in the Amazon for a while. It secured not only his promotion, but it actually earned recognition from Queen Victoria herself, and earned the noble title of Baron.
So yes, work was important. But food was needed. He grabbed his jacket, and Paul Andeker, a knight from South Africa, followed in step with him. Andeker was an opportunist more than anything else. He helped apartheid in his area of South Africa, heading the secret police in his region. When he sensed the changing winds, he discredited a few nationalist politicians and helped ensure a smooth transition to the Atlantic Kingdom’s authority. Initially mistrusting of the foreigner, Andeker was a valuable asset in his knowledge of playing partisans off one another, and he too was a rising star. It was likely he’d end up at the head of the African affairs desk, unless he got caught up in one purge or another. In either case, Andeker was a friendly fellow, and it seemed Victor would have company for lunch, wanted, or not.
“Hello Colonel Anderson”
Victor felt tempted to simply ignore him. However, one couldn’t ignore Andeker’s incredible professional accomplishments. “Hello Colonel Andeker.” There, that was good enough.
“Lovely enough weather for March at least. Care for lunch? My treat.”
In spite of himself, Victor was curious. Where would the giant Afrikaner take him? French? Colored? He consented, and they went into Andeker’s vehicle, a classic Taurus, a car for a rich, young nobleman. If they were traveling by this car, it likely wasn’t one of the lower class diners. As Andeker pulled off towards King George Boulevard, he stopped in front of one of the more recognizable buildings in the city; The Royal Washington Hotel. Victor tried not to look too impressed. Even though he was now closer to the top of the pecking order, his roots tugged at the splendor of the place. If you were a foreign dignitary that wasn’t named Nico Romano or Gabriel Blacktyde, you likely stayed here. On a slow day, a Captain would have trouble getting in; on a busy one, a Lord might be unable to bluster his way into the hotel. And today it was anything but slow. Still, his colonel’s insignia opened a lot of doors in the Atlantic Kingdom, and sure enough, it opened this one. If it didn’t, his OSI badge would.
Almost immediately, Victor saw why the hotel was busy. Texan ambassador Natalie Johnson was at one table, and at another, several prominent Monarchist Parliamentarians were discussing affairs. Victor knew he’d run out of his Vicky’s pretty soon. Andeker put a coin on the table with Queen Victoria’s stern countenance staring back. Two martinis came out. No change made its way back. Andeker sipped his and laughed “They really want to suck you dry, no?”
Victor gave a grunt of confirmation, and sipped his own. Pretty good, but at this price, it better be. “Andeker, this is all nice and good, but what do you want from me here?”
Andeker only smiled. “That Brazil Gambit was pretty good. Everyone knows it. And everyone knows that you were a part of it.”
“So? Brazil’s not South Africa. That’s where your future lies, no?”
“No. South Africa’s easy. The new serfs are kept in line pretty easily with soldiers. The OSI doesn’t have a huge game to run down there. Cape Town relies more on the Army than on intelligence. Besides, the powers down there are pretty well established. True, I might end up making desk if I stay working for another ten years, but after you make desk, that’s almost like a dead end. The American territories are even worse, everyone’s been set there for generations, and the Army isn’t my cup of tea. But Brazil, Brazil, that game’s wide open. No one is in charge yet, the old powers are too scared to do anything, and the new kids are preparing for some war with Japan or the Muslims or some other country. But Brazil, I could run wild with that.”
“Mhm. And what are you wanting from me?”
“To tag along. You’re well known, you’re ambitious, you have a new noble rank, and you’re pretty good at what you do. They’re going to pull you from this internal security crap and put you with the Occupation Staff down in Rio. And when you go down there, I want to be taken as your adjutant.”
“I see. And why would I take you?”
“Because I know what you want. You want the OSI. Not the desk, not a chair, not even a department. You want to be top dog here. And I can dig it. But you’ll need help. Help from a guy who knows this game, who has the contacts in this game.”
“You’ve been a citizen of this country for less than a year Paul.”
“You think I’m fool enough to not know how the winds were blowing. I’ve been pandering up to Washington since old George’y was about to croak. I know people Victor. Breckinridge is ready to give up the OSI when he has a chance of recognized power. He just needs the right person to take the OSI from him, and with my help, you’ll be that person.”
Victor was stunned by the Afrikaner’s frankness, so unusual in the intelligence business. He was, of course, correct, but still, it was frightening. “Paul, why are we here?”
“To start playing the game.” Paul got up and walked to the bathroom. When he came back, the insignia on his collar had changed to a Major. How he was able to do that, Victor would likely never know. But Paul caught a waiter quickly and said quietly as not to be distractive, but loudly enough to be recognized “I’m terribly sorry, but I must request the food come a bit quicker than normal. I have Colonel Anderson of the OSI here, and he simply cannot be away from the office too long.”
The waiter’s eyes widened. That would happen if you mentioned the OSI. To anyone. Quickly, the waiter scurried away. Victor turned to Paul, about to express incredulation, when Paul shifted his eyes to the back wall. A Major was leaning into a back curtain, conversing with someone. He quickly walked over to our table, and stated his name, rank, credentials, and the purpose “Sir, Duke Breckenridge is in the next room, and he’d be honored if you would join him for lunch.”
Trying not to look too stunned as Paul Smirked, Victor walked cautiously into the backroom, and was simply blown away. Several generals sat at the table with Beckenridge. Some were well known by the public, others were legends simply within the OSI. The fact remained was that there were so many Dukes, Earls, and Viscounts that Victor may as well have been talking to the General Staff.
“Colonel Anderson, Duke Breckinridge has been telling us about you, and we’re quite impressed.” Victor did a double take. He had just been spoken about to, and was able to impress Nathan Bedford Forrest V. Breckenridge resumed talking “We had General Taylor out here, and we were hoping that he could give us notes on how his occupation in Canada shaped out, and how General Hampton might occupy Brazil with the same efficiency.”
What happened next all occurred as a blur for Victor. He obviously impressed Hampton, and at the end of the meal, Hampton asked if Victor would work in Brazil as one of his intelligence officers. He was promoted to Brigadier General and was assigned to General Hampton’s headquarters, with his chief adjutant being Andeker. As they arrived in their new headquarters in Rio De Janeiro, Paul could only smile “I told you sir. Everything would work out like I planned"
