A dining room somewhere in Bayougrad, late night, a few days ago 

“So you lost your famous touch with the ladies, comrade Hunt?” teased Drake, while peeling a grapefruit “If I remember correctly your tales, you boasted quite an impressive record of seduced female spies back in your days in the Ge-Rouge”

“If I had to be rude with the High Diplomat at the Ball, comrade Drake, it was because I was busy convincing her Frost counterpart not to shoot down your costly planes flying over Reizen” retorted Hunt - both annoyed at the jab and surprised that Drake was actually capable of humour- while preparing to light up one of his cigars. 

“If you youngsters are done squabbling, we have a country to run and a cause to carry forward” calmly intervened Papa Unclepear, motionlessly sat on his throne, wrapped in his black drape. Both Minister shut up abruptly, the tension locking their jaws. “You are a brilliant strategist on the battlefield, Comrade Drake, but the diplomatic field follow different rules” the Eternal Leader explained “A diplomat of that rank does not let personal antipathy go against the interest of its country…or her own, depending on loyalty. She just tried to use it as a psychological trick”.

“Of course, Eternal Leader. Yet, the Treaty spoke clear, there was no need to negotiate” objected Drake on Hunt’s operate. “If they wanted to limit our presence in their bases, they would have found a loophole regardless. I highly doubt that calling their Minister of Defence instead would have yield better results” the other retorted. “Comrade Hunt you are right in your first consideration…” said Papa Unclepear, but before Hunt could finish to smile added: “…but let’s not presume how Comrade Drake would have fared without any substantial element”. 

He paused and let out a thoughtful sigh, the continued his analysis “Why the Peony suddenly turned on us it is yet to see, although I suspect the answer involves her young age and power-hungry ministers fuelled by ambitions or foreign money. The old rulers of Kai Fa slipped on the same slope a long time ago and today are just ghosts of the past. The time of the Peonian dynasty,as for all monarchs, will come too, sooner or later”. 

The seemingly old Leader suddenly seemed to revitalize, straighten up and ordered: “Let’s sum it up: Comrade Drake, make the best of what you can of this time window we have, and keep our forces stationed there until the very last day, even if with a symbolic presence. Our returning friends of Ubesii already have provided us with an alternative in the East; if we are lucky, Reizen will be sorted out by August and we’ll find new havens in the Western continents.

Comrade Hunt, keep up weaving our net of relationships, but still try not to worsen things with Huawan. And both of you gentlemen try to coordinate more instead of overstepping in each other field”.

Taylor, the minister of Economy, who until then had been quiet sipping on a glass of rum, take advantage of the brief silence to ask: “Regarding the economic provisions of the Treaty and the Southern Sky Alliance, how do you wish us to act, Eternal Leader?” 

“As long as they roll with it, roll along. Remember the teaching of the Masters: a capitalist would sell you the rope to hang him with...” Papa Unclepear instructed him, a slight smile cracking up his wrinkly face.