Time: 0900. Location: Castle Destro, Scotland.
"Laird. They have arrived."
"Very good. Give me a moment."
The black-clad Iron Grenadier snaps off an unseen salute. Standing at the open balcony, back to the now shut door, stands a man who has played both sides of the field of battle. For decades his family made millions on the blood of others. "Good" or "bad" mattered not to the Laird. All that mattered was green. That was before THEM. Looking out from the balcony, he takes in all, acre upon acre of well-manicured gardens. Hedges, older than he, hides the thick gray stone walls which stand as silent sentries to his family's estate. A team of specialists toils at the labors of growing plants in the rocky soil. Off in the distance, can be heard the bells of the church. A wedding?
Destro shakes his head. His vision clears. The squalid conditions of the refugee camp spread before him. Gone are the hedges, burned months ago. Gone are the gardens, trampled as the masses of the village sought safety within the walls. All that is left is mud and stone. From opposite the walls, he can hear THEM. Their always present moans, filling the air. And the stench. Human feces and decaying flesh.
- What has become of the world? The last year has been a window into Hell. How unprepared were we? The greatest civilization to ever exist is not man. It is THEM. We must stop THEM.
At that thought, he abruptly shuts the tall glass doors and turns. As he approaches, the doors to the hall open as if by magic. No. Not magic. Just well-trained guards, hearing their grand leader's approach. As he steps into the hall, several Iron Grenadiers step up to take their places.
"Step aside. I have nothing to fear within the walls of my ancestral home."
Without a word, they fall in behind the steel-masked man. He takes it all in. The communication terminals were erected under hundred-year-old portraits of Lairds past. The flurry of activity as his men coordinate with troopers in the field. He takes it all in. He knows he must do what comes next. It should be no different than any other business deal. Yet, he is uneasy.
He steps into the lavishly decorated receiving chamber. The room he reserved only for the most respectable of guests. Needless to say, Cobra Commander had never seen this room. They're seated at the right of his minor throne. They rise as he enters out of respect. They're coming to him. To him. Oh, how the tides of turned. There. That's what he needed. They need HIM. They came to HIM. More importantly, SHE came to HIM. His smile does not show. The iron mask, a welcome compatriot at this moment.
"Laird Destro. I present Her Majesty The Queen."
With a deep bow, he takes her hand. "Your Majesty, welcome to Castle Destro. It is an honor."
"Let's cut the pleasantries and get to business."
"Charles!" That one word cuts off the Prince.
"Laird Destro, please accept my apologies on behalf of my son. He means no disrespect. It appears the stress of our current predicament has caused him to forget himself."
"I, of course, accept. How can I, a poor Laird, be of assistance to Her Majesty?"
"Shall we start with tea?"
"Of course."
With a look, a butler appears tea at hand.
"Your Majesty. Earl Grey. Cream two lumps."
"My, you are quite prepared."
Destro bows at the shoulder. Her Majesty sits. As do her entourage, the single exception being a man in a long black trench coat, with a grey fedora pulled low over his eyes, that seem to glow green. As Destro sits, he hits a hidden button upon his throne. Several more Iron Grenadiers enter the room and take positions.
"The tea is excellent, Laird Destro."
"Thank you, your Majesty. Again I must ask how a simple Laird can be of assistance to Her Majesty."
"Very well. As you know, the last year has not been a good one for our great islands. Our people are suffering. Our forces are doing the best they can. Nigel has been leading the Night Men, but we are only able to secure small areas and then only for a short period."
"I am very aware of the issues plaguing our fair lands, your Majesty. As you see, I have offered refuge to any who can make it my walls. As of late, few make it to the walls of Castle Destro alive."
"Yes, we saw the horde as we flew in. We also know that your Iron Grenadiers have suffered no losses. In fact, our information states that your army is growing. That's why we have come. That's why I have come. Laird Destro, the Kingdom of Great Britain needs your Iron Grenadiers to assist in the protection of her people."