Booker couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe he had been so easily manipulated. Maybe he had become too confident in himself. He didn't know whether it was his eagerness to succeed or his general kindness that had lead him to be so easily tricked, but whatever it was it had now made him livid. Extremely livid. He had never considered himself dumb, quite the opposite actually, these days he was on the far end of what people would consider pretty fucking smart but his intelligence hadn't helped him. It had just made excuses for the shit his instincts had never stopped telling him were off. This asshole had tricked him as easily as one would a child. He saw it now. The borderline stupid fucking name, the continuous uncertainty in his words and now his eagerness to get rid of Booker. To get him back to square one. The motherfucker had played him; used him to get a vehicle he himself couldn't get for some reason.

Booker saw red, his anger boiling over and leaving his usual collected self hidden deep away. He jogged after the man, tackling him with all his weight to the ground and doing his best to establish a high mount. From there Booker cocked back his arm and punched the man savagely in the face to daze him and buy enough time to pull his handgun. Quickly pulling the H&K 45 from it's holster Booker put it to the man's face, now confident in his dominant position. 

“Your friends there can put a bullet in me if they wish but I can almost guarantee the shock of that happening will make me spasm and thus put a bullet through your fucking face... Now you played me.” Booker spoke angrily, yet suddenly letting out a somewhat maniacal laugh. “Nah, I hate being manipulated so here on out that's not what happened. I was kind enough to do you a favour, and you know how it is. Favour for a favour and all that. So, in return for me being your willing fucking errand boy you're going to tell me how I become a Peace Keeper. Officially I mean. I want warnings, hints, tips, fucking passwords... Give me something.”