As soon as he came in, Vidal settled in the arm chair, leaning his head back and letting out a big sigh. The last few months had been exhausting, but this was something they inevitably had to always be ready for.
“I told you this would happen.” He started, instead of giving his friend a proper greeting. They’ve kept in touch for as much as possible, but this topic came before them grabbing a beer together at spoons and reminiscing about the good old days. “The Russians retaliated, as that was always on their agenda. At the awards after party, no less. At your niece’s Yvonne’s party, mind you.” He knew how close Johnathan was to the Rutherford kids. “At first, they left a body of a French Commandant, Elaina Halévy, attached to the boat, barely conscious. It is surprising she was alive in the end.” He finally picked his head up, directing his eyes at his boss. “That obviously sent the French into.. what should we call it? Mad dog disease? Something like that, innit. They went for Aviv Kasyanenko, stabbing a couple of times. You know how those things happen in a. moment of range. Remember, the party is at a full on at that point. So imagine the screams and chaos there. I did the best I could to get people out and protect from there being more casualties. However, it got out of hand so much, that there were shots fired. We have casualties. Aurélie Parra was shot dead. Very much presumably by the Russians. So you can imagine what’s that going to do to London. What’s that doing to us, as we’re the ones who invited the Russians with a bloody golden ticket.” He cursed a few times, before frustratedly showing his fist into the wall beside him. “That’s not all, John. Amir Dawar is dead, too. He was trying to her the French boss to safety, and he got affected too.”
He was giving the information raw, because there was no more point on keeping this hidden under a comfort blanket.
“So tell me, what position do you think, we as Rutherfords, are taking now?”
With a loud sigh, Johnathan rubbed his hand across his face and leaned back in his chair. This was exactly why he kept asking Vidal for updates, and no one else, because the man didn’t sugarcoat. He told it straight as it was, never held back with information. Most of those loyal to the Rutherfords had Johnathan’s trust--and he was sure to quickly weed out those who’d betray it--but it was Vidal’s counsel he sought continuously. Both men operated the same way, understood what was at stake. Melissa might be Johnathan’s right hand, but Vidal was his confidant.
Johnathan pushed his fingers through his hair and sat back forward. “Here’s what I’m thinking.” And it was something he had been considering for quite some time, though he was hesitant to put those he had sworn to protect in immediate danger. “Let them tear each other apart. We sit back, watch. Do the bare minimum. Enough to keep those rabid dogs pleased. There *will* be hell to pay for Aurélie, and I don’t want us to get caught up in that fucking mess.” Johnathan drummed his knuckles on his desk. “In the meantime, I’ll kick Andrew’s bloody ass. Told him from the start this was a bad fucking idea.”
