West Barnsley Industrial Estate, Nolon City, Noronica
Joshua could not remove the image of this morning out of his mind. Overnight, the entire city had entered into mass hysteria, with much of the population packing their bags to escape to the country, while many remained to protest or riot around the city. Joshua had been awoken to screaming and a bottle being thrown towards his bedroom window. When he drew the curtains back, he was faced with his greatest fear, a protest on his very doorstep.
The lack of order terrified him. He despised the primal desire to rebel and to propagate one's own ideas, the desire that made countries fall into decadence. He had sought to fight this urge, to unite all Noronnicans under his wing to lead them. He had not seen how blind they were, how utterly without vision they were. The raw fear held by many of his colleagues in the Federal Assembly had pressured him into a military blunder, and now his enemy was free to move against the capital. Joshua clenched his fists. Now they came to his doorstep to blame him for his failures? He had done no wrong, it was them. Those that chose to hide when their country called, and and then would crawl out of the woodwork when their country lay dying.
Resting his head against his car door, he stared out into the distance. He recalled a time when politics had been so much easier when people were inclined to actually fear his presence. His time in the Bureau of Internal Security had earned him respect. He knew people then, he knew he could call on them for favours, and they knew to fear him. Now as Prime Minister, he found that the old ways no longer worked, and yet he stubbornly held on to them. He would return politics to the old ways when this was over, he vowed, clenching his fists tighter.
He wrestled his thoughts away from revenge and instead began to wonder on the meeting he was having today. The Prince had sounded rather urgent in his call, he was vague but Joshua surmised that the boy was getting too deep into this mess and would need to be given a firmer guiding hand. Joshua had to admit that Prince Trystan was extremely important for his own legitimacy as Prime Minister, as if he had a legitimate Overlord in his pocket, the country would be stable again. Joshua despised the necessity for a trump card this valuable, yet no conflict was ever entirely clean for either side. Both had their weaknesses.
Joshua began focussing outside, a frown slowly appearing on his features. This was not the palace. He had expected a detour out of the city certainly, yet this was in the suburbs of Nolon. "Where are we going, Gordon?" He asked, his voice inquisitive yet cautious.
Gordon looked at the rearview mirror to address the Prime Minister, "The Prince instructed us to take you to a more private spot, so as to ensure the protesters don't disturb the two of you."
Joshua rolled his eyes, the boy's fetish for detective novels was ridiculous. Smirking, Joshua spoke with a mocking tone, "Come now, surely we can re-arrange for a closer place to home? I do not have much time to spare for this meeti-"
Gordon interrupted, his voice oddly curt, "He insists."
That threw Joshua, as he did not know his drivers to ever speak back to him in such a manner. He suppressed his intuition and shrugged. This situation was not entirely average, and Gordon was most likely concerned about his own life in the city rather than for Joshua’s meeting. Joshua allowed the car to lull into silence, opting to see exactly where he was being led.
"We're here sir." Gordon said shortly afterwards, rolling the car to a halt beside a large warehouse. Before Joshua could reply, he cut in once more, "The Prince is waiting in the central building."
Getting out of the car slowly, Joshua eyed the warehouse and felt a sense of dread creeping up his spine. A thought occurred to him, usually his drivers were instructed about only the location, due to their lack of clearance. They were certainly not given specific details on the meeting. His eyes widened, "Hang on. Gordon, since when were you in contact with the Prince?"
Gordon spoke in a monotone, his eyes staring into Joshua's, "The Prince insists you join him immediately."
Joshua was truly becoming concerned, yet he had the creeping suspicion that Gordon would not follow his orders now that they were here. It seemed that this meeting would be certainly very important. Swallowing his gut feeling to run, Joshua nodded and turned to walk towards the warehouse doors. Before he entered, he frowned slightly. He remembered this warehouse, but he could not place why.
Pushing the doors open with a little exertion, he revealed a dimly-lit warehouse. At the centre, were two metal chairs placed with careful precision. Walking swiftly towards them, he decided that he would need to have a discussion with the Prince on his abhorrent behaviour.
Sitting in his chosen chair, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and swore, "No bloody signal, of course."
Fortunately for Joshua, he did not have to wait long, as he soon heard the clicking sound of shoes coming behind him. "Your Highness," he said as he turned around, "I believe that you have some explaining to do." His speech came to a sudden halt as his eyes came into contact with the end of a silencer.
The voice of Prince Trystan came from in front of him, "I believe so as well, in fact, I believe this discussion should be rather enlightening."
"What the hell is going on?!" Joshua spat, his eyes smouldering with anger. He tried to see where the Prince was, yet the shadows encompassed much of the room. "Where are you!" He shouted, his panicking eyes darting around.
The figure of Prince Trystan walked forward, emerging from the shadow. "Here." He whispered.
"Were we not about to discuss our mutual agreement? I fail to see why a silenced pistol is involved!" Joshua said quickly, his fists clenching as if ready to tear Trystan apart.
The Prince had the audacity to smirk, his eyes flashing with mirth, "That was simply to draw you here. I am afraid that our mutual agreement is now at an end, and so, forthwith, we shall dispense with all falsehoods. Firstly, that of my support. I am afraid that the situation in the country demanded strong leadership, and you failed to meet the expectations that your supporters held."
The realisation hit Joshua, he recognised those words. "McTavert," he whispered. "McTavert, you chose him and his cronies?! You know full well that the man will send this country into disarray, he is a moronic fool!"
"He is rather arrogant, isn't he?" Trystan chuckled, "Well if it is any consolation, he is not to be the one to lead the country in your stead. Here is the man that was chosen in your place. I believe you know him." Trystan beckoned the figure of another lurking beside Joshua.
"McIntosh." Said the man said coldly, "How nice it is to see you again."
Joshua's eyes were wide with shock and betrayal, his voice dripping with searing rage, "Montague. You lying, two-faced bastard. I knew you had ambitions, you practically wore them on your fucking sleave, but to see this level of betrayal..." He stood suddenly, ignoring the sound of the gunman behind him tense, "I fucking made you Montague. I. Made. You. It was under my recommendation that Arván was to be under your control. I give you the frontier territory and you choose to plot against me? Whoring yourself out for power?"
Trystan interrupted, "Now now Mr. McIntosh, that is no way to address the interim Prime Minister." Seeing that Joshua was about to respond, Trystan held up his hand to speak, "No more. This needs to be done quickly. Joshua McIntosh, through the power vested under my authority as Mayor of the City of Nolon, you are under arrest on the suspicion of high treason. You have the right to remain silent, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do or say during this arrest may be given in evidence."
For the briefest moment, it appeared that Joshua was about to launch himself at Trystan. Trystan tensed, he had thought the gunman would have been enough. There was a second of tension as the room braced for a fight, yet with a sudden jolt, the doors were thrown open, and all the attention in the room turned to the flashing blue lights and armed policemen entering the warehouse. It was Montague who addressed them, checking a message on his phone, "Riverside Police Station, Founder's Park. A cell has been prepared for him there."
"And thus it ends." Joshua whispered to himself.