"An offer of servitude isn't an offer at all." Mathew smiled, as he sat down, finally. "But then again, this is a last-ditch offer. Someone got too close, potentially it's seen as some kind of test. With the kind of knowledge I have, I'm a threat. Now, I was unaware that the Collector was such a racist, I'm honestly kind of offended." He pulls out a tablet, as he places it in the middle of the table. "On a side note, do you have any idea how hard it is to buy nuclear weaponry?"

The Tablet displayed, in large block numbers, a timer. A countdown, seemingly counting down from the three minute mark. "I mean, there's an incredibly strict guidance on nuclear waste nowadays. All the materials you'll need are locked away, behind rows upon rows of guards. And up there, people have already been checked for anything that could be used to blackmail them. Getting a mole in that high in the government is a serious problem, with high risks." Mathew sighs, shrugging, knowing he'd suddenly garnered their attention. "Now, I don't know much about the Collector, but I know he doesn't care about you two. In fact, I'd garner that you don't care about you. A thrall, maybe. But even if you did care about you, threatening you is mostly pointless. Hell, you're probably not even important. Instead, I'm going to threaten the one thing he knows he likes."

Mathew stands up, as he turns away, leaving the tablet behind. "Lucy, if I make it out of this building alive, please do halt the countdown. If I don't, obliterate the entirety of Britain. If I'm to die here, I'd like that I go out with a bang."

[Yes, sir. Setting course now. Deploying sabotage orders for AMC batteries. Deploying countersignals. Deploying orders for Project Wipeout. All preparations have been completed.]

"Thank you, Lucy. That will be all." Smiling, Mathew waves at the vampire and the old man. "I might be bluffing, of course. Hell, I'm amazing at bluffing. Your call, my friends. Hope you can handle the responsibility."

Everyone had something they cared about. Even a fellow as mysterious as the Collector, and even a mindless thrall. Everyone could be threatened, could be coerced, could be forced. The trick was to find it, and to put a gun to it's head. Operation Wipeout was to initiate were he to die, an action that would instantly set all his assets towards the complete and utter liquidation of Brittain, economical and physical. It was one of many contingency plans he had developed, to be activated moments before entering situations much like this.

It did pay to be prepared.