What a Wonderful World (Part four)
Aug. 14th, 2009 10:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
historizeTitle: What a Wonderful World (Part four)
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
historyblitz, kept track of at historize
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Basically, everyone. This particular part has Spain, Prussia, Burma, India, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, England, Mexico, Vietnam, and North Korea and France. Also Denmark, Canada, Russia, Norway, Iceland, Finland, Ireland, Scotland, Sweden, New Zealand, Australia, Thailand and Greenland. And Nepal and Wales.
Rating: thematic R
Warnings: violence
Summary: Basically, World War III
posted here
South Korea was sitting by the window when the door opened. Japan looked up from his place beside China. He straightened a little. “North Korea, Vietnam, good afternoon.”
South Korea jumped and stood. Too quickly. And then didn’t seem to know what to do.
North Korea stopped, her uniform crisp and neat. She stared back. “I did not know you would be here.”
South Korea swallowed. “Well…I am.”
Vietnam rolled her eyes. “You’re here, he’s here. You’re both here. This is about China. Let’s focus on China.” She pushed past them and went to the side opposite Japan. “How is he?”
Japan’s eyes shifted away from North and South Korea and looked at Vietnam. “He is recovering slowly.”
Vietnam touched the back of her hand to China’s forehead. “He’s so pale…but the fever you spoke of seems to be gone.”
Japan nodded. “He’s stopped crying out. His fever is mostly abated.”
The door opened again and Taiwan entered with a tray. She did a slight double-take. “Vietnam! How are you!” She hurried in and Vietnam went to her, helping her set the tea tray down. “You look well. I thought you were on the far east front?”
“I was,” Vietnam agreed, “but when I heard about China, I decided to come to London and see him. I haven’t been here before. This city is interesting. Wet but too cold.” She shivered a little.
“I’m sure England would provide you with some different clothing if you wanted? Did he not greet you?” And then Taiwan saw North Korea and she stopped. “North Korea…”
She and South Korea were still just standing in the room, looking at each other. Her eyes skittered over South Korea’s face, over his clothes, over his hair. She opened her mouth, as if to speak and then looked away. She nodded to Taiwan. “Good afternoon, Taiwan.” Her tone was always chilly but awkward, always unsure of how to interact with the rest of them.
Vietnam spoke up to break the strained silence. “England greeted us but he seemed to be in hurry, as if he were upset by something. He showed us to our rooms and gave us an aid a piece to get anything we might need and then he left.”
Japan narrowed his eyes a little. That is unusual for England. He gently touched China’s shoulder. “China,” he said, softly.
China’s eyelashes fluttered and he breathed in, throat working as he swallowed. His fingers moved, stiff and shaky in the gauze.
“China,” Japan said, quietly. “Vietnam and North Korea are here.”
Vietnam put a hand on North Korea’s back and led her to the bed.
While they spoke to China, Taiwan watched South Korea, his usually cheerful face uncertain. His eyes always held part longing, part resentment when he saw North Korea. But her leaders kept her close and she was never permitted to travel far. How she had managed to get to London was anyone’s guess and she probably would not tell them even if they asked. South Korea went back to the window and turned his back on the rest of them, looking out.
North Korea held China’s hand and said, “I have had word from Iran.”
This was apparently meant for Japan and he looked up from the other side of the bed and met her eyes.
She lowered hers first and spoke to China’s blanket. “Militant radical violence has dropped sharply in the last month. Over seventy percent. Terrorist activity has all but stopped in Iraq and Pakistan.”
Japan looked down at China’s blanket too. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I don’t think it’s necessarily good.”
Japan looked at her fingers on China. “Because it implies that they are elsewhere?”
“Yes.” She shifted. “Iran and I have worked together on developing nuclear technology.”
Japan felt his fingers twitch involuntarily and he lowered them to the side of China’s bed so they would not see. “Do you believe that some of them who are gone may have knowledge of it?”
“Yes, I do. They are appealing to those in the slums. To women. To minorities. We found them not long ago. Two men, each with a tiny red star on their collars. So my boss sent an officer to them to go undercover. They offered food, drink, clothing and education; an equal opportunity to fight for a global cause. When you are poor and have had your pride stripped by the world at large, there seems no better offering.”
“What happened to your officer?”
“They could see that he was educated and they sent him to a ship somewhere in the South China Sea. After his initial report, we never heard from him again.”
Japan bowed his head slightly.
North Korea stepped back. “I must go now.”
South Korea turned from the window. No one said anything.
North Korea bowed low to Vietnam and Taiwan and then she rose again and faced Japan and South Korea and bowed to them too. Her eyes lingered on South Korea and then she forced them away to China, gave one last bow and turned away.
They were all silent until the phone chirped. Taiwan went to it and she breathed in sharply and turned. “They’ve found Hong Kong!”
Prussia emerged into the sunlight in his black uniform and wearing a pair of leather gloves. The ship was far out at sea and always moving. It wasn’t a small ship but it wasn’t large either. Just big enough that if a well-piloted craft slowed down enough, it could land on deck.
And wasn’t America just the pilot for that?
Prussia smirked as he met those blue eyes. He was in his flight uniform and the boy looked tired but his eyes were burning at him.
“Hallo, America!” Prussia called cheerfully. “What do I owe this pleasure?”
America took off his goggles and shook his hair out. “England had a hunch. Gave me a list of about two dozen places he thought you might be. It’s a good choice—out in the middle of the fuckin Pacific.”
“England always was clever. I wondered who he might send if he came after me—because, of course, England wouldn’t come himself. I wouldn’t have any tea here for him! You’re a good choice. Strong enough to win a fight with me, I taught you how to fight properly and you were always the Ace of Spades in the World Wars.” Prussia held up three fingers. “Though, you lack experience.” He folded his fingers back down.
America dropped his goggles to the floor of the deck. “Somehow, I think I’ll make up for it. I haven’t been flying for almost two goddamn weeks to get beaten up by you.”
“Have you really been looking for that long? Do you even know what day it is?”
“Twelfth of June.”
“Wow, you’re not very good at this hide-and-seek business at all, are you?”
“The end result is what matters—isn’t that what you told me back then?”
“You might want to reconsider. I have land now. I’m a proper nation again.”
America snorted. “Lot of fuckin good it’ll do you when we win.”
Prussia smirked. “Really? And here I was thinking I’d like to put a summer home in Washington D. C.”
America burst out laughing. “Firstly, that’s a terrible choice. Secondly, if you think the likes of you can take over one my cities, go ahead and fuckin try. I dare you. Go on. New York, Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles—“ and he laughed very hard at that thought, “—Boston, any of them. See if you can.”
“We will be.”
America snorted, not impressed at all.
“Didn’t you hear about China?”
America lifted an eyebrow. “What about China?”
“We bombed it. Nuclear weapons, America. You wanna know why? China has the largest standing army in the world. Sending it into chaos and distracting China’s allies has worked very well. Now, who has the best military in the world?” He pointed finger-guns at America. “Statistically, you do. So who is the next most likely target?” Prussia grinned. “The United fucking States of America.”
America smiled and shook his head. “No one knows nuclear weapons better than me. I invented them. I have the equipment to take your shit out. So you go ahead and waste your time. I don’t mind.”
“Oh,” said Prussia, “maybe I’ll just move right on to Russia and England then?”
America burst out laughing again. “Who do you think you are? You get some fuckin land and suddenly you think you’re just fuckin awesome, don’t you? You think bombs will kill England and Russia? I know all about bombs and England and Russia and let me tell you, it doesn’t work. Those two will never die. Besides, Prussia, I didn’t think revenge was like you.” America shrugged. “But, hey, maybe all that time in Moscow struck a nerve.”
Prussia stiffened. “One day, boy, when you find yourself sniveling at the feet of your conqueror, you will remember those words and they will suddenly make sense to you.”
America’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t snivel for anyone. Least of all, you. Oh!” And he grinned. “Unless, of course, you were making another reference to you and Russia! In which, I could totally see you sniveling at Russia’s feet. Bet that gave him a hard-on, right?”
Prussia’s smile tightened. He certainly picked some things up from Europe. “I can see now why England sent you.”
America raised his eyebrows, inviting him to continue.
“But, tired of chitchat. Are you ready, boy?” Prussia swept imaginary dust off his jacket.
America rubbed his hands together and threw his flight gear aside. “Ready and waiting.”
Prussia snickered. “You sounded like France for a moment.” And he dashed at him.
America stood still, watching, analyzing and when Prussia reached him, he ducked and tackled him. They bounced on the deck and Prussia threw himself back, sliding. He braced his feet and shot forward again.
America rolled over his flight gear and he grabbed his knife and jumped up. He dodged Prussia’s fist and stabbed. He barely missed, Prussia latched onto his arm and braced his feet—as if to flip him but America held firm, refusing to budge.
They stared at each other for a moment.
“C’mon, boy, what’s the problem? Don’t want to fight your old mentor?”
“I wouldn’t—but you’re a little crazy now. So crazy sort of trumps all, you know?”
“Would you really say I’m crazy? I’ve had no role in anything anymore. I have little strength and my people are now Germany’s people. I find this ignorant boy with an interesting cause and he offers me land in exchange for my military expertise. He read up about me.”
“What kind of cause could he have had that would make you betray us? Being abolished can’t be that pathetic.”
“What would you know of it? You’re too young, America. I wouldn’t have considered you a man until the end of the Second World War. No matter what France might have done to you during your Revolution or what you might have wished England would do.”
America jerked and Prussia suddenly found the world spinning. He went flying across the deck and smashing into the side rail. He cackled as he slumped down on the deck and got up. “Well, didn’t like that much, did you?”
America barreled across the deck and slammed into Prussia, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall of the wheelhouse. “Looks like your new and improved strength isn’t much of a match for me.”
A few officers were still on deck and they were circling them.
Prussia snickered when he saw them. “Now, you lot stay back and don’t touch. This boy here will rip your heads off.”
America slammed his head back into the wall. “Won’t compare to what I do to you. Where’s Spain?”
Prussia just smiled up at him. “Spain who?”
America jerked back, swept Prussia up and smashed him into the wall. It collapsed and America let him go. “Is he on this ship? I’ll tear this fucker apart if I have to.”
“Oh, then maybe you’ll want to say hallo to India and Burma too.”
America growled and he grabbed for Prussia again.
He heard the telltale click-click-click too late. He tried to jerk back but there was a spark of blue and Prussia slammed something against his gut.
Prussia grinned and jumped up, grabbed America’s shoulder and pressed the stun gun against his throat. The boy jolted again and Prussia took him to the ground. He straddled America and winked, waving the stun gun at him. “And that is why you lose and here you invented these little things too.”
America heaved, trembling under him, muscles twitching and closed his eyes to get his body back under control.
Prussia leaned down to him. “Maybe I should tell you some things? I am already moving my pieces while the rest of you lag behind worrying about the wheres and whens. You know what I think I’ll do when I take England?” He shifted on America, grinning, watching his face turn ugly with anger. “I think that I will enjoy having him for myself. You know? I’ll fuck him raw, of course—but, if it makes you feel better, I’ll ask him if he’s thinking about you?”
America spit in his face, hands clamped to the deck.
Prussia smiled and reached up, flicking off the gob of spittle with his gloved finger. “Well, that was rude, wasn’t it?”
Downstairs, Spain was paying close attention. He started badly. “It is America…he can’t have betrayed us too!”
India was standing, holding onto the bars of her cell and looking towards the staircase. “No,” she said, “there is nothing anyone could offer him that would turn him against the others.” They listened. “He was sent by England…? He had a hunch?”
Spain shrugged. “England is pretty good at spying. I don’t know how he might have known—unless he’s got someone on the inside? Maybe a soldier? If it’s an underground, international thing—that wouldn’t be that hard.”
Burma jumped when the fight started and they couldn’t hear much of what they were saying to each other until a loud crash and America’s voice, inquiring after Spain.
Spain himself jumped up, holding onto the bars. “America! America!”
Prussia snickered. “Do you hear him, America?”
America was still twitching, shuddering but he could hear him. He’s still alive. Thank God.
“I’ll bet you wish you could save him, don’t you?” Prussia leaned down to America’s ear to whisper. “But you can’t. Just like you couldn’t protect your brothers, you won’t be able to protect England and Spain will die—“
America turned his face and bit him. His teeth ripped into Prussia’s cheek.
Prussia jerked back, hand flying to his face. He glared down at America, who looked like some carnal beast with the blood on his mouth and teeth. “So you are ready to fight now, are you? No more toying around?” He got up and waved the sailors back. “Leave him. I’ll wait until he can stand.”
“General Beilschmidt, you could kill him now, sir…”
Prussia’s eyes jerked over to the speaker. “I could kill you too, couldn’t I? He won’t die like a common soldier.” He rolled his eyes. “Go belowdecks until I tell you to come back. The boy is ready to fight now and you all will just get in the way.” He looked down at America, removing his glove and holding it to his bleeding face. “You want some coffee, boy? Wash the blood out of your mouth.”
America may have still been twitching and trembling but Prussia could see the confusion in his eyes. He looked at one of the sailors. “Bring up coffee and two cups, plenty of cream and sugar.”
Thailand only remembered flashes of that night. Mostly the flashes he could see in the fierce lightening and booming thunder. The swells started small, maybe ten feet but quickly rose with the wind, to twenty and then thirty. He hung on grimly while the sea tossed him to and fro. He couldn’t see much without his glasses but the rain was driving—so he wouldn’t have seen much with them anyway.
His hair was stuck to his forehead and cheeks and the churning sea grabbed him up, as if in a fist forty feet high and slammed him down. His makeshift boat burst apart and Thailand went under.
He fought desperately, trying to find which was up, struggling with the robe. He finally managed to rip it as the ocean swirled and plucked him up again. He found himself on the crest of a towering wave. Lightening flashed again and he tried to yell—to get some semblance of himself. To differentiate himself from the storm. To get air. And he put his arms over his face as the wave crashed down.
When Thailand woke up, it was because someone was pulling him. His eyes rolled and managed to open, blinded by bright sunlight. He shut them again and stirred. His ears finally registered sound, voices in English.
“Hurry up—get the ropes! Get him up.”
“Was he in the storm last night?”
“Nah, I’m sure he just decided to take a dive and got lost.”
“Ah, shut up!”
Thailand felt the rope around his middle tug at him but he really wasn’t in much a mood to do anything about it. His limbs felt like dead trees. His head lolled when a pair of hands grabbed him under the arms and pulled him into a boat.
“Ah, look, he’s awake, barely. Hey, fellow, are you all right? Can you speak English?”
Thailand’s tongue crept out and wet the corner of his mouth. His forced his salt-encrusted eyes to open again. “Wa…ter,” he croaked.
There was some thumps and an indistinct blur brought a bottle over, tipping a little into his mouth. Thailand surged a little, breathing in suddenly as if he’d been under water this whole time. His eyes suddenly felt clearer and he struggled up, helped by the man to sit up and desperately drink the water.
“Where you from, mister?” asked a younger voice off to his left.
“Nah, look at him,” said an older, gruffer voice. “He’s Thai. Right? Were you trying to get away from the war, lad? I heard they took Thailand. Just plucked it up.”
Suddenly, out here on a boat with these people who were likely fishermen, telling him so casually that his country was lost—it hit him. I have been exiled from my land. I have lost my honor. What happens to me now? I am lost. My people are lost. He started to shake, trembling.
The fishermen all looked at each other, sympathetic.
“Let’s get him to the shore,” the younger said quietly, watching the young man curl up in his father’s arms and weep. “We should get him some food.”
The two others on the boat went to the oars and started rowing back to shore.
When Thailand woke again, there was a warm hand on his brow. A woman was sitting on a chair next to him with a bowl of rice in her lap. Thailand looked at her. “Miss,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “where am I?”
“You were out in last night’s storm,” she said, gently. “My husband and son found you out in the water this morning when they went out in their boats to fish. They said you were from Thailand.”
Thailand slogged through murky memories and nodded. “I am. From there.”
“Do you have any family over here?”
Philippines. I need to talk to him. He nodded a little. “In Manilla.”
The woman nodded and set the bowl aside to help him sit up. “Do you know the way? My son could go with you…”
“No…,” he whispered to the ceiling, breathing slightly shallow. “I know the way…”
Romano was sitting in his room, staring sullenly at his reflection. Everything in his life had been this way. Everything was one annoyance after another. Honestly, he just wanted people to leave him alone. He put up with Spain (Put up with him!) because he’d known him for a long time but honestly. People kept trying to steal him or they’d steal Spain or they’d just be huge assholes and trick his dumbass little brother. (Fucking Krauts! Fucking Brits! Fucking Yanks! Fucking France—ew—ew—ew, don’t think about that!) Romano shoved himself back from the mirror and paced around the room and went to the window.
Germany was down in the driveway with Italy. He had a rifle and he had to keep pulling the muzzle of Italy’s gun to the right because it kept drifting towards his car.
They were at Hungary’s house because, honestly, the armies didn’t need them there to babysit. So Hungary brought Germany here because he appeared to be taking Prussia betrayal rather hard. Not that Romano believed it. At all. Stupid Kraut.
He still hadn’t quite forgiven him for the World War Two thing. Come to think of it, he hadn’t quite forgiven Spain for being neutral either. (Well, that was different! Different!) He’d had to hang out with England and America after they took the coast and that had sucked because England’s cooking sucked and America was a stupid Yank, or whatever the hell it was that everyone called him.
Well, America had, at least, tried to be nice to him. It was England that did that stiff upper lip thing and—well, he could fuck himself. So there!
Romano automatically glanced around, as if to ensure England had not suddenly materialized to listen to his thoughts.
He snorted to himself and turned away from the window, running his fingers through his hair. He grumbled and swore and sat on his bed, cross-legged and then flopped back and curled up on his side. “Why did you have to get captured? Stupid Spain…”
He bit hit lip hard to keep from shaking.
After America recovered and was able to stand, he sat with Prussia on deck at a small, glass tea table. Prussia poured coffee and took a sip from both cups, the cream and ate a spoonful of sugar to prove it wasn’t drugged.
America still waited for Prussia to drink before he fixed his own cup and drank it, cleaning the blood caked onto his lips. “So what land did he offer you?”
Prussia smirked. “Most of central Europe. I want to be able to take care of Germany, after all. The bit of southern Germany he now has control of has been transferred, officially, to me. Once I help him win the war, I can set up a government again. Wouldn’t mind having a chunk of Ukraine too but somehow I don’t think she’d be willing to come live with me.”
“Yeah, not so much.” America sipped his coffee. “So what, is he going to give you jurisdiction over western Europe too?”
“I haven’t asked. So far, it’s nice just to feel like I’m alive again. Maybe he’ll give me Russia.” He grinned. “Or maybe he’ll give me you and your brother.”
America snorted. “Canada’ll fight you to the bitter end.”
“And you?” He leaned forward on the tea table.
America half-smiled. “I’ll rip your fucking head off and shove it down your throat.”
“That’s what I like to see,” Prussia laughed. “A little bit of brutality never hurt anyone.”
America smiled. “Was that supposed to be funny?”
“A little bit. You smiled, didn’t you?”
America slurped down the rest of the coffee and put the delicate cup down. “Are you ready?”
Prussia grinned. He didn’t answer though; just jumped up, grabbed the tea table by its base and swung. America jumped back, dodged two swings and flitted forward. The tea table should have been awkward in Prussia’s hands but somehow, it wasn’t. America raised his arm when Prussia swept down. The tea table’s metal rim bent around the muscled limb and the glass shattered over the both of them. The glass that remained into the metal circle was like ragged teeth, biting and slashing into America’s shoulder.
He grabbed his gun and fired.
It struck Prussia square in the chest and he staggered back, laughing. America rotated his shoulder and dodged to the left. Prussia hit the railing. The vibrations made the whole bar blur. Prussia cackled, whipping the table back and went at him again.
America went to the railing Prussia had struck and ripped a part of it free. A seven foot long metal rod, that he dodged around Prussia and swung, clobbering him in the back of the head. Prussia staggered forward, whirled around but when he swung the tea table—America shoved the metal staff forward into the circle of broken glass and yanked.
The tea table ripped out of Prussia’s hands and flew overboard.
“Oh,” said America, smiling. “Whoops.”
“You always were more about power than finesse,” Prussia laughed. “Even as a boy. You were better with a battleaxe, rather than the sword. You should have been Scandinavian.”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what I should be?” America flipped the rod and spun, whirling it—
—Prussia grabbed it. With two hands, his feet slid back a foot with the power behind the strike and Prussia laughed. He let go and shook his fingers out. “Damn, boy.”
America threw the piece of rail aside and ran for him. Prussia swayed and when America got close, Prussia jumped, planted a foot on America’s chest and kicked him in the face. America’s hands shot out, grabbed blindly for Prussia’s offending foot before it could touch the deck and swung.
Prussia flipped, slamming into the deck. He got up laughing, looking more excited than America had ever seen him. He hopped from one foot to the other, touched his thumb to his nose and reached to his side, pulling out a combat knife.
America breathed. Prussia watched the boy steady himself, clear his head and shift his stance. He fought like his Marines did. Efficient, powerful and brutal. (Or was that like England? Or like Prussia himself?) When they went at each other, it all moved in a blur, each of them getting into their stride. Speed was the key and America, for being bigger built certainly was quick on his feet.
But Prussia was wiry and fast; he stabbed at America’s eyes. The boy ducked and slammed his fist into Prussia’s gut, so he rammed the knife into America’s back. He jerked.
Prussia snickered and gently petted his shoulders. “Don’t worry. It’ll be—!”
America ripped the stun gun from its case and zapped him. Then he wrenched back, letting the knife stay in his back and grinned.
Prussia staggered away from him, a hand on his chest to steady his fluttering heart. “Well done, boy.” He swayed a little, watching America circle him. If he was in pain, he didn’t show it and Prussia had to admire that, at least a little.
“Let Spain go and I’ll leave.”
Prussia snorted. “There are no negotiations with me, America. I can’t give you Spain. Besides, I’d be stupid to believe you anyway. France and I were the ones who taught you to lie.”
Something crossed America’s face, like he was fighting something internally. Whatever it was, it passed quickly and America stalked over and grabbed Prussia by the front of his black uniform. “I didn’t want to have to fight you, you know. You’re killing Germany. Haven’t you thought about him?”
Prussia smirked up at him. “That’s the way the world works. We nations look out for ourselves too. My brother will come to understand that in time.”
“You son of a bitch,” America sneered, disgusted.
“But,” said Prussia and his eyes flicked down, corners of his mouth sinking, “one thing I will tell you…”
America blinked. “What…?”
Prussia shifted a little and then his hand was moving, something came up and liquid was spraying in America’s face. “Your compassion will get you killed, boy.” He started laughing.
America reeled back. Pepper spray. Son of a bitch. You gotta be kidding—! He felt Prussia’s boot connect with his chest. He staggered back, wheezing, eyes forced closed.
“Now,” said Prussia, briskly, “one day, when the war is over, I’ll fight you and not use tricks like these. But for now, it’s still my win.”
America felt his glasses come off, there were sounds of fumbling and then Prussia tucked them into the breast pocket of his uniform.
“Now, don’t worry, boy,” Prussia went on, voice giving away the grin he was wearing, “I’ll take good care of your plane for you.” He drug America over to the broken railing. “Tell England I said hello.”
Prussia shoved him over.
About an hour later, two calls came in, long after America had been swept away by the ocean. The first was to America’s plane, which Prussia waved away the officers and went to.
Prussia picked up the receiver, grinned and said, “Guten Tag?”
There was a beat of silence. “Prussia…”
“Why, hallo England. How are you?”
“Where’s America!”
Prussia cackled. “Well, currently? I imagine he’s floating somewhere in the Pacific. But don’t worry, I tucked his glasses into his front breast pocket so they wouldn’t get broken.”
England swore and hung up.
The second was from Riis who told him, via operator, that Prussia was to meet him in Kathmandu, Nepal.
Mexico had agreed to come to London after Spain had been taken. Though, it was with a certain amount of trepidation that she did so, getting held up hadn’t been part of her plan and so she ended up not being able to land in London until the fifth of June. A driver met her at the airport and took her to base.
There, England himself greeted her, giving her a short little bow and offering to take her bag. She refused, holding it herself. “Cuba,” she said, “is working between America and I to keep security tight and he’s overseeing the building of a new defense system that America’s boss sent him.”
England nodded and turned; gesturing with his arm to indicate which direction she should walk. “I don’t know how much you wish to be involved—“
“I wish to take a more active role.”
He glanced sidelong at her. “In the past, you have been neutral—“
Her eyes were caramel gold and hard as Ironwood and they met his dead on. “I no longer wish to be neutral. We were thinking about amending the Constitution to allow my military to participate in UN peacekeeping anyway. Now that this war is threatening to leave Europe and come to North and South America, it’s time for us to look out for ourselves. I certainly don’t want to have to rely on the United States to protect me and I won’t hand over my defenses to Europe or Asia. I am fully capable of protecting myself and being involved internationally.”
England raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Of course. We will not keep you from doing so.” He opened the door for her and she stepped through, jaw locked. “We are currently keeping tabs out for Spain should he show himself. So far, we haven’t had any luck.”
“Spain is like a roach,” Mexico said and her eyes were still hard but she had a strange little smile on her face; part rueful, part exasperated, part grudging. “He’ll happily chew and chew and chew and nothing ever kills him. Though it’s been some time ago that I tried to. Maybe he’ll have turned into the pathetic man he acts like and do us all a favor and die.”
England couldn’t help but smile a little and he had to force it back down. What was it with Spain and gathering people around him who enjoyed berating him so much? He said, “You must be tired from your flight? I can arrange for supper, if you like.”
She looked at him. “Your food is very bad.” England looked annoyed suddenly but she went on as if she hadn’t noticed. “I like spicy food, remember, so don’t trouble yourself. I’ll make myself something.”
England’s lips thinned and he put a hand on his chest. “It would be of no trouble, of course. I am only extending hospitality.”
She stopped and so England stopped too. “England, I appreciate it very much.” And she was looking at him again, eyes unflinching; her jaw elegant. She raised a hand and combed it through her long, black hair. “But your reputation precedes you. If it really bothers you, I will teach you to make something—provided that you listen to my instructions,” she pointed a stern finger at him, “and don’t try anything fancy with the peppers. You nearly killed my President last time we visited.”
England sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Must you keep reminding me of that?”
“Yes,” she informed him and then she smiled. And her smile was something brilliant, like the jewels and gold of her predecessors. “Are America and Canada here?”
England smiled back and led her to a wing of rooms. “Not currently. They are both off on missions. France arrived three days ago, along with Vietnam—though North Korea has already left—Japan and South Korea and Taiwan and China are here as well.” He counted doors and opened one for her. “The next large meeting is scheduled for the twelfth. So, in that measure of time, we can begin coordinating your military and catching you up. Russia, Canada and the others are due back any day now. After what happened at the southern German base, we have been holding counsel in London.”
She stepped inside and set her bag by the door. “I’ll be up early tomorrow. The counsel rooms are still in the same place, right?”
“Yes, they haven’t changed.”
“I’ll meet you there then. With France and Japan?”
England agreed and told her good night and gently shut the door. He had to admit that her straightforward manner was refreshing. He liked her embroidery and while her food did something terrible to his mouth, he couldn’t help but enjoy the taste, even if it gave him heartburn.
Four days later, New Zealand and Australia arrived in London. After Japan, Taiwan and South Korea had departed for London to see China, the brothers had gone back to Yemen. There, Australia kept a close eye on his younger brother and they hung around a lot with Oman and Yemen, who kept trying to teach them how to make their thick, strong coffee. New Zealand had been particularly interested in getting it down so he could make it for America later.
Australia’s men had, officially, been sent north to go into Turkey but had declined going with them, deciding he would accompany New Zealand back to England. And maybe beat the tail out of America for leaving without telling them.
The first person they were greeted by was not England but Ireland, who exclaimed and grabbed New Zealand’s face. “Th’ hell happened to ya, lad! Your eye’s all scarred up!”
“I got shot!” New Zealand laughed. “I’m lucky I still have an eye!”
“You didn’t hear ‘bout it?” Australia asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Gah,” she groaned and waved a hand, as if that explained everything, “that worthless younger brother mine might ‘ave mentioned a bit o’ somethin’. But when ‘e starts talking—he drones, y’know? Or, worse, he gets all self-righteous and indignant and it ‘bout puts me to sleep. I’m sure Scotty knows.” She slipped an arm around Australia and her other arm around New Zealand’s neck. “Inside. Weather’s miserable, as always. Mexico’s here, if you’re interested. So’s France, Japan, China, Taiwan and—the other one—oh, and Hong Kong.”
Australia pulled back a little to get the door. “Is he all right?”
“Fuckin’ terrible shape,” Ireland said quietly, shaking her head. “They brought ‘im in a few days back. In even worse shape than China; they weren’t sure he was going to make it. England got him a medical team and cleaned out a room and everythin’. He’s so clingy to the ones that used to be his. Japan’s been lookin’ after China and England’s been runnin’ meetings and whatever it is he does all day. South Korea takes over when England can’t be arsed.”
“How is South Korea?” New Zealand asked.
“Oh, he was commenting on my breasts as soon as I got here, so I imagine the bastard’s just fuckin fine.”
A door opened and Canada came flying around the corner. His whole face lit up. “Hey!”
“Canada!” New Zealand broke free and raced down the hall, tackling his older brother.
“I heard you in the hall!” Canada called, looking over New Zealand’s head to Australia, who bounced forward and hugged him. “Are you guys okay? When America reported it sounded like you guys got the hell beat out of you!”
“Oi, fuck that! They gave ‘em what for, aye!” Ireland called, sauntering towards them.
New Zealand grinned. “How was your mission? They told us you were headin’ north.”
“Yeah, with Russia and the others. We brought back three prisoners.”
“I get cold jus’ thinkin’ about it. No thanks.” Australia clapped Canada on the back. “Any word from that worthless older brother of ours?”
Canada’s smile seemed to freeze and then it fell a little. He shook his head. “Nothing. Russia told me that America never went east with him.”
New Zealand snorted. “Well, it’s Ricky, so he’s probably fine. Off doin’ somethin’ really interestin’ or really stupid.”
“Well, he is a Yank.” Australia shrugged, laughing.
“Yeah, it’s like he’s constantly in his own movie.”
“Are all of you back here for the meetin’ on the twelfth?” Ireland asked.
The three of them nodded.
“They’re still keeping an eye out for Bangladesh,” Canada added. “But no one’s seen her and Thailand, Nepal and Burma are still unaccounted for.”
“What about India?” New Zealand asked, stopping in the middle of the hall and turning to Canada.
Canada shook his head. “Nothing. A lot of her pilots escaped but…” He shrugged.
New Zealand frowned. “She saved our necks ou’ there. We should convince England t’let us go look for her.” He looked at Australia.
Australia rubbed his jaw. “We can ask, mate, but I wouldn’t expect a yes.”
And they didn’t get one. The meeting on the twelfth was a very large one. England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, France, Mexico, Japan, Taiwan, South Korea, Vietnam, Russia, Denmark, Iceland, Norway, Finland, Greenland, Sweden, Ireland and Scotland.
Wales arrived the day of and stepped into the meeting just as it was starting.
England glanced up at him, frowned and nodded. “Sit down, Wales.”
Wales rolled his eyes a little and looked around the room, going around the table. “Budge up, mates,” he said with a smile, sitting between Ireland and New Zealand.
“Don’t you dare start playing cards,” England said severely. “You keep them in your jacket.”
“I haven’t got—“
“Keep the cards away.”
Wales snorted and Ireland poked him and made a funny face. Wales grinned and looked down and took out a notepad. “Yes, sir. Wha’ever you say, yer lordship.”
“Careful,” Australia muttered, “he likes that title.”
“He’ll fancy us to start callin’ ‘im tha’ again,” Ireland sniggered.
“Lads,” said Scotland and he leaned slightly over the table and looked down the line at the rest of them and sighed a little.
“Ah,” said Ireland, with a sage nod. “Elder brother speaks. Quiet down now, then.”
And they did.
England had a vice grip on his stack of papers but knew that thanking Scotland would only earn him more mocking, so he simply nodded and carried on. “China’s current condition has passed out of critical. He’s stable now. The bleeding has finally stopped, likely because Russia, Japan, America and myself moved very quickly to get things under control. Hong Kong, however, is in very bad shape.”
Taiwan bit her lip and looked down at her glass of water.
“He will be in the medical wing until further notice in the sterile rooms. So if you wish to see him, you must see the head nurse or head doctor to clean up and put a suit on.”
“Bloody Christ…” Wales murmured, shaking his head.
“Do you think they’re going to hit anyone else?” Denmark said, leaning back in his chair, frowning.
“Hitting China first is very telling, yes?” said Russia before England could speak. He scooted back his chair and stood, going to the map on the wall. He gestured towards the red stars that peppered China, to indicate the cities destroyed. “The world’s largest population, largest army but just instable enough to do more damage psychologically. But, because he has not struck again we cannot yet say there is a pattern.”
“America seems to already be anticipating a strike,” Canada added. “His military is putting every missile defense system on high alert—the ones at home and the bases in Asia and Europe.”
“America won’t be able to protect any of us from a large scale nuclear assault—not if it’s on the scale as it was in China,” France said, carefully. “We must be able to protect ourselves.”
“That’s very easy for nuclear states to say,” drawled Denmark, “but the rest of us are kinda fucked, right?”
“Unless we all obtained nuclear weapons,” said Vietnam, quietly.
There was a strange silence as this was digested.
But then Japan spoke, eyes trained mostly on England and Russia, nearly between them, “I am not of the perception that it would do much good to my people to become a nuclear state. If we all take up nuclear weapons than what happens when the war is over?”
“Why wouldn’t we just give them…up?” Greenland ventured. “If we—“
“It has never happened that way,” interrupted France. “We all face a common threat right now and so we are all on the same side but once the war is over we will go back to squabbling with each other. That’s the way the world works.”
“The nine nuclear states,” Russia said, looking at the map and pointing at each country as he said the name, “England, China, France, India, Pakistan, North Korea and Israel is suspected to have some and Iran has the knowledge—all of yours together do not even approach the amount that America and I have.”
“One of you two are the next likely targets,” England added, looking rather thoughtful.
“America and I can withstand such a thing.” Russia smirked; it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“Did the Red Star guys ever move in to China?” asked Australia. “In Oman and Yemen we didn’t hear anything about it.”
“It’s been quiet,” said Japan, “inside the Chinese border. We speculated that they would move north but instead, there were heavier attacks to southeast—Laos and Cambodia—and to the southwest—there is fierce fighting in Turkey, Greece, Syria, Iraq and Iran. They received backup not long ago from Australia—” and here Japan gave a small nod to him, “—Saudi Arabia is taking the lead to defend the Middle East, along with America and Russia and various members of England’s Commonwealth. I already shared what North Korea told me and given the instability in the Middle East, they are ready to unite and cooperate.”
“He has moved east and west,” France spoke again, and there was a darker tone to his voice, a slight sneer that made Canada look over at him, “so that he can begin to build himself an empire. That will have been under Prussia’s direction. This is just like him. Prussia has probably informed this unknown little upstart that we are unlikely to retaliate against what we cannot see. We’ll wait and by the time we realize what we can do—it will be too late for us. The farthest this force has gone is into southern Germany but as soon as he showed himself there—he vanished and has not appeared at all in any of the countries inbetween. He is in southern Asia, India, the Middle East, Turkey and Greece. There was a single confrontation up north,” and France nodded towards Russia and Canada, “but nothing else. A lone submarine with very few bombers—indicating a small battle ship somewhere but not one that was close enough—or, possibly, big enough—to assist. They have air and land power but they have not yet taken the sea. They only have harbors now that they have taken India and are using it as a base of operations. This all reeks of Prussia.”
Canada reached over and gently touched France on the wrist, who tensed and met Canada’s eyes. Canada’s inquiring, worried eyes. France gave a short shake of his head and looked away. Canada looked over at England but he also looked away. Canada frowned and looked to Russia, who was looking between England and France.
“So,” said Mexico, breaking the suddenly awkward silence, “has anything come out of the interrogations?”
England looked at her, eyes hard. “They are all in solitary confinement for now.”
“I would like to interrogate them,” Russia interjected.
“No,” England said, narrowing his eyes, “I do want them to live through it.”
The meeting drug on for another two hours. Everyone went through several glasses of water, and then came the tea and coffee and doughnuts that no one touched. And Ireland had a throbbing headache and France was looking more and more agitated with each passing second.
When New Zealand finally asked about looking for India, England refused and took no arguments for the idea, simply saying, “Now, we should make our coordinate plans. We—“
“Has anyone heard from America?” Canada asked, rather loudly. When England eyed him, he went on, “It’s just—it’s been two weeks. No one’s heard anything. The last person he spoke to was you.”
England sighed a little. Well, they’ll find out soon enough. “I sent him to look for Prussia.”
Canada’s mouth dropped open and his head tilted to the side.
New Zealand’s eyes were fluttering. “Wh-what? Why did he lie? Why did you lie?”
England raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if asking for patience. “I did no such thing. It was supposed to be a secret because I have found that the fewer who know about an operation, the better and there is a possibility that there is another traitor among us. They are, after all, getting supplies from someone. But,” he went on, gesturing to Canada, “if it will make you feel better, I will contact him after the meeting.”
They all looked at each other.
England took a sip of his tea. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell anyone—because you will all begin to suspect each other and that is exactly what Prussia would want. When you have a larger enemy, you build out and spread dissent from the inside.”
France seemed to be getting paler. He touched the edge of the table.
No one noticed.
Prussia docked in Bangladesh that evening, welcomed by a small unit of black uniformed soldiers. A lieutenant with two red stars on his collar marched up to him and gave him a sharp salute, “General Beilschmidt, sir, welcome to Bangladesh. We have a plane awaiting to escort you on, sir. Is it just you?”
Prussia smirked. “Oh, no. My three prisoners will be coming with me. I hope you have a large plane.” Prussia looked back, watching his officers drag the three ragged-looking nations. They each had a black sack over their heads and their hands were cuffed behind their backs. All three of them were bare-foot. “Step lightly, you guys. The rocks are kinda sharp.”
One short jet ride later and they landed at the Tribhuvan International Airport. From there, it was on to an armored car into the city.
Kathmandu was a busy, pretty, historical city—the subject of songs and books that Prussia hadn’t seen much of. He liked to see things for himself. So he was very interested in looking out the windows at the temples and markets and alleys and mountains. Several of the buildings had been mounted with the two-star flag and there was a soldier on every other corner. The streets were deserted.
It was very, very quiet.
When he was finally taken, with Spain, Burma and India, to see Riis, the first thing Prussia noticed was Nepal.
He was a small nation. He was taunt and slim, known for his stubborn nature. Though, he was easy to get along with and was friends with many nations. None of that cheeriness was currently present. He sat on Riis’ right side, in an unadorned chair in front of a rectangular table in a simple conference room. His skin was a golden and his hair was dark brown. He did not fidget. Only his eyes moved, narrowing in on Prussia.
It made Prussia smile a little. That kind of hatred was visible ten miles away.
Riis said, “Take those off their faces.”
The officers turned and untied the drawstrings and pulled the black sacks off.
Spain opened his eyes and breathed. No wonder Burma hated those bags so much; they reeked of death and fear. It was cloying. He heard a little start and saw Nepal staring at India but the boy bit his lip so he wouldn’t speak. The officers put the three of them on their knees. Spain, Burma and India in a neat row.
“Spain,” said Riis. He smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”
Spain didn’t answer. He stared back, eyes hard.
“So, Riis, what do I owe the pleasure?”
The boy’s blue-black eyes shifted to Prussia. His eyebrows lifted. “Riis?”
Prussia laughed. “Calling you WR is fucking lame. You either need to come up with a name for yourself or I’m going to call you Riis.”
Riis looked at him for a moment and then he smiled. “All right.” He got up from his chair and went around the table to the prisoners. He went to Burma and reached out, touching his face. “Why are you trembling, Burma?”
Burma’s lip quivered and he swallowed hard; Spain watched his Adam’s Apple bob. He opened his mouth but then couldn’t seem to speak.
“Prussia,” said Riis, sliding his hand up through Burma’s ragged hair. “Did you get anything out of him yet?”
Prussia turned around, watching and crossed his arms. He smiled. “Not much. Mostly that he just wants to go home and doesn’t want us to hurt India.”
Riis’ fingers snarled into Burma’s hair and jerked, pulling a startled gasp out of him. “Burma, don’t you want equality and freedom for all your people?”
Burma blinked and looked up at him; his golden eyes apprehensive. “W-what?”
Riis got down on his knees so he was eye-level with Burma and raised his other hand, touching Burma’s throat, caressing.
Spain stiffened and tried to move closer but the two officers pulled him away. India looked alarmed as well and her eyes met Spain’s over the top of Burma’s head.
“The ideal that I represent—equality, the right to be healthy, the right to an education, the right to not be spit on because of your family, or your skin color, or your past. I want to create a glorious world.” He continued stroking Burma’s skin. Burma whimpered and tried to jerk back but Riis grabbed him. “Shush, shush, it’s okay. Don’t be scared.” He leaned forward, ignoring the way Burma tensed and screwed his eyes shut, and kissed him on the forehead. When he leaned back, he had a terrible smile on his face.
It shot off warning bells in Spain’s skull. “Get away from him!”
Riis’ eyes flashed and the next second, Prussia was there, backhanding Spain. “Now, really, Spain. Children should be seen, not heard.” Prussia cackled.
Spain’s head snapped to the side and he glared under his matted bangs at Prussia.
“Oh,” said Prussia and he got down on his heels and grinned at him. “That’s such a dangerous look from you. I remember when you were like that all the time.”
Riis started speaking again, stroking Burma’s face and hair. “You see, Burma. People join me for many different reasons. Some of them are selfish and only want to accomplish their own goals—I just give them the venue to do so and that’s okay because I will take care of them after the war is over. But others—others really care about their people. Nations like you, Burma, join me because they care about their people. They want to see their people happy. Don’t you want your people to be happy?”
“Burma,” India snapped, “he is trying to trick you. Just ignore him. Don’t answer.”
Riis glanced up and the officers moved. One grabbed India’s shoulders; the other folded the black sack and gagged her with it. He looked back at Burma, who was looking distressed now, desperately, at India. “Oh, Burma. You don’t want us to hurt India. Do you love India?”
Burma stuttered. “She…is my friend.”
“But you haven’t seen much of her in awhile. Do you desire her? You were both wards of England at one time. Is that when it started?”
“I—I don’t!” Burma shook his head, eyes going everywhere else. “I—no. I.”
“Shush, shush,” Riis said again, gently touching his thumb to Burma’s mouth. “It’s okay. Just relax. No one is going to hurt you today. And we won’t hurt India so long as you behave. Okay?” He smiled and nodded encouragingly.
Burma trembled but he nodded back.
Riis stood up. “Prussia.”
Prussia winked at Spain, kissed his grimy cheek and stood too. “What’s up?”
Riis walked back towards the table and looked back, waving a hand to dismiss the guards. When they had gone, he looked up into the windows, where the light was dimming rapidly. “During World War Two, Germany had concentration camps for all those deemed inadequate by his leader. Japan also had these camps, though they are less talked about because they made a deal with the Americans. They agreed that, in exchange for their people not being put to trial, they would give all of the information they gained to the United States. You know what that information was?”
Spain watched as Prussia turned and nodded. “I do. Human experimentation with bacteria, plague, sexual diseases and the like.”
“They also infected fleas and dropped them from low-flying planes in China. Thousands died from plague epidemics.”
Spain’s mouth opened just a little and his eyes darted over to India, who looked horrified.
Prussia raised his eyebrows and said, “Is this something you want to do? Because most developed countries have cures for those diseases now. Bubonic plague, syphilis, cholera, and typhoid fever—you know. So that’d be kind of a waste. You could end up infecting our own men.”
Riis’ eyes came down from the window and he looked at Prussia. “I want to test it, to see how the Allies react. I want them to be fearful of me. You advised me to pull back to a contained area and build out and encouraged me to spread dissent from the inside of powerful countries. But you also told me that the ship that Russia, Canada and the others would be on would not be a battle ship and that it would be easily taken. Now I have lost one of the two submarines I control and they have taken prisoners.”
Prussia met Riis’ eyes. “I didn’t know they would be taking a battle ship. I assumed it would be something smaller.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. You blundered. So I want you to pick a country.”
Prussia’s eyebrows raised. “Any stipulation with that?”
“I want to see results.” Riis looked at the map, drawing his fingers over Russia.
Prussia chuckled and sauntered over to him. “Don’t even bother testing it in Russia or America or any place like that. They’ll put their borders on lock down. They have huge populations. You won’t see fast results there. Your best bet is to do a place you already have some degree of control over. Or a place that you can view the results quickly and easily. Remember, I can’t watch them from the inside anymore.”
“Pick a nation.”
Spain felt his mouth go dry. Not plague. Not plague. He threw another look at Burma and India, whose faces had turned ashen. He looked at the back of Prussia’s uniform, watching him. His red eyes gleamed over the map for a long time and Spain thought he might not answer but then he said, “India, is, obviously, the best choice.”
“No!” Burma cried out. “No!” He looked at India, shaking his head. “You can’t!”
India herself went still, staring, eyes deadened.
“We did promise not to hurt India,” said Riis.
Prussia looked back at the three of them and grinned. “She won’t die from plague. I remember plague. So does Spain and England and France and Russia—they all feared plague and for good reason. Back then, no one understood how it spread. With your having control over the country, we can evacuate our men and leave India’s population. If she gets sick, you’ll know whether it worked or not.”
“You won’t be able to do that,” Nepal sneered, finally speaking, though quietly. “The other nations will do what they can to help.”
“India is under my control, Nepal,” Riis reminded him. “And it doesn’t just have to be plague. There are lots of bacteria that we can use. It’s just a matter of picking one that’s suitable for the location. Smallpox or Cholera would be good candidates. They scare people. It doesn’t matter if they all die. They just need to be frightened. Frightened people run together. We’ll evacuate the doctors too.”
“You can’t be serious.” Prussia and Riis both looked at Spain, who was staring at them. “Why would you do that? You just preached about equality and health and you’re talking about creating an epidemic and killing—they’re innocent.”
Prussia didn’t say anything. He just looked at Riis.
Riis just shrugged. “I can’t expect you to understand. I’m trying to create something bigger than that.” He looked back to Prussia. “If this doesn’t work, I will hold you personally responsible.”
Prussia nodded and smiled. “I understand.”
Outside, the last rays of the sun went out.
But by then, England had hung up the receiver and left London, alerting all Allied ships in the Pacific to be on the look-out for American air force pilot, Alfred Jones. He stayed out all night until a ship made contact with his helicopter. A French battle ship that England set his pilot for immediately.
By the time they found the ship and landed, it was nearly dawn and England was still wide awake. He jumped out of the helicopter and two officers escorted him to the infirmary.
“He’s sleeping, General Kirkland,” said one of them, touching the door and pointed through the glass.
“Was he all right when you found him?”
“He was shivering and he seemed really tired but otherwise, he complained about getting lost at sea a lot. He also had some cuts and bruises.”
England couldn’t help but smile at that. “Let me in. I’ll stay with him until he wakes.”
1. Baron von Steuben was a Prussian military officer who helped train the Americans during the Revolutionary War. It is from him that America gained its basic military structure.
2. The Ironwood is a real tree. It's one of the most dense woods in the world.
3. Bio Warfare
4. Mexico was once a colony of Spain, as was Cuba.
Author/Artist:
historyblitz, kept track of at historizeCharacter(s) or Pairing(s): Basically, everyone. This particular part has Spain, Prussia, Burma, India, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, England, Mexico, Vietnam, and North Korea and France. Also Denmark, Canada, Russia, Norway, Iceland, Finland, Ireland, Scotland, Sweden, New Zealand, Australia, Thailand and Greenland. And Nepal and Wales.
Rating: thematic R
Warnings: violence
Summary: Basically, World War III
posted here
South Korea was sitting by the window when the door opened. Japan looked up from his place beside China. He straightened a little. “North Korea, Vietnam, good afternoon.”
South Korea jumped and stood. Too quickly. And then didn’t seem to know what to do.
North Korea stopped, her uniform crisp and neat. She stared back. “I did not know you would be here.”
South Korea swallowed. “Well…I am.”
Vietnam rolled her eyes. “You’re here, he’s here. You’re both here. This is about China. Let’s focus on China.” She pushed past them and went to the side opposite Japan. “How is he?”
Japan’s eyes shifted away from North and South Korea and looked at Vietnam. “He is recovering slowly.”
Vietnam touched the back of her hand to China’s forehead. “He’s so pale…but the fever you spoke of seems to be gone.”
Japan nodded. “He’s stopped crying out. His fever is mostly abated.”
The door opened again and Taiwan entered with a tray. She did a slight double-take. “Vietnam! How are you!” She hurried in and Vietnam went to her, helping her set the tea tray down. “You look well. I thought you were on the far east front?”
“I was,” Vietnam agreed, “but when I heard about China, I decided to come to London and see him. I haven’t been here before. This city is interesting. Wet but too cold.” She shivered a little.
“I’m sure England would provide you with some different clothing if you wanted? Did he not greet you?” And then Taiwan saw North Korea and she stopped. “North Korea…”
She and South Korea were still just standing in the room, looking at each other. Her eyes skittered over South Korea’s face, over his clothes, over his hair. She opened her mouth, as if to speak and then looked away. She nodded to Taiwan. “Good afternoon, Taiwan.” Her tone was always chilly but awkward, always unsure of how to interact with the rest of them.
Vietnam spoke up to break the strained silence. “England greeted us but he seemed to be in hurry, as if he were upset by something. He showed us to our rooms and gave us an aid a piece to get anything we might need and then he left.”
Japan narrowed his eyes a little. That is unusual for England. He gently touched China’s shoulder. “China,” he said, softly.
China’s eyelashes fluttered and he breathed in, throat working as he swallowed. His fingers moved, stiff and shaky in the gauze.
“China,” Japan said, quietly. “Vietnam and North Korea are here.”
Vietnam put a hand on North Korea’s back and led her to the bed.
While they spoke to China, Taiwan watched South Korea, his usually cheerful face uncertain. His eyes always held part longing, part resentment when he saw North Korea. But her leaders kept her close and she was never permitted to travel far. How she had managed to get to London was anyone’s guess and she probably would not tell them even if they asked. South Korea went back to the window and turned his back on the rest of them, looking out.
North Korea held China’s hand and said, “I have had word from Iran.”
This was apparently meant for Japan and he looked up from the other side of the bed and met her eyes.
She lowered hers first and spoke to China’s blanket. “Militant radical violence has dropped sharply in the last month. Over seventy percent. Terrorist activity has all but stopped in Iraq and Pakistan.”
Japan looked down at China’s blanket too. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I don’t think it’s necessarily good.”
Japan looked at her fingers on China. “Because it implies that they are elsewhere?”
“Yes.” She shifted. “Iran and I have worked together on developing nuclear technology.”
Japan felt his fingers twitch involuntarily and he lowered them to the side of China’s bed so they would not see. “Do you believe that some of them who are gone may have knowledge of it?”
“Yes, I do. They are appealing to those in the slums. To women. To minorities. We found them not long ago. Two men, each with a tiny red star on their collars. So my boss sent an officer to them to go undercover. They offered food, drink, clothing and education; an equal opportunity to fight for a global cause. When you are poor and have had your pride stripped by the world at large, there seems no better offering.”
“What happened to your officer?”
“They could see that he was educated and they sent him to a ship somewhere in the South China Sea. After his initial report, we never heard from him again.”
Japan bowed his head slightly.
North Korea stepped back. “I must go now.”
South Korea turned from the window. No one said anything.
North Korea bowed low to Vietnam and Taiwan and then she rose again and faced Japan and South Korea and bowed to them too. Her eyes lingered on South Korea and then she forced them away to China, gave one last bow and turned away.
They were all silent until the phone chirped. Taiwan went to it and she breathed in sharply and turned. “They’ve found Hong Kong!”
Prussia emerged into the sunlight in his black uniform and wearing a pair of leather gloves. The ship was far out at sea and always moving. It wasn’t a small ship but it wasn’t large either. Just big enough that if a well-piloted craft slowed down enough, it could land on deck.
And wasn’t America just the pilot for that?
Prussia smirked as he met those blue eyes. He was in his flight uniform and the boy looked tired but his eyes were burning at him.
“Hallo, America!” Prussia called cheerfully. “What do I owe this pleasure?”
America took off his goggles and shook his hair out. “England had a hunch. Gave me a list of about two dozen places he thought you might be. It’s a good choice—out in the middle of the fuckin Pacific.”
“England always was clever. I wondered who he might send if he came after me—because, of course, England wouldn’t come himself. I wouldn’t have any tea here for him! You’re a good choice. Strong enough to win a fight with me, I taught you how to fight properly and you were always the Ace of Spades in the World Wars.” Prussia held up three fingers. “Though, you lack experience.” He folded his fingers back down.
America dropped his goggles to the floor of the deck. “Somehow, I think I’ll make up for it. I haven’t been flying for almost two goddamn weeks to get beaten up by you.”
“Have you really been looking for that long? Do you even know what day it is?”
“Twelfth of June.”
“Wow, you’re not very good at this hide-and-seek business at all, are you?”
“The end result is what matters—isn’t that what you told me back then?”
“You might want to reconsider. I have land now. I’m a proper nation again.”
America snorted. “Lot of fuckin good it’ll do you when we win.”
Prussia smirked. “Really? And here I was thinking I’d like to put a summer home in Washington D. C.”
America burst out laughing. “Firstly, that’s a terrible choice. Secondly, if you think the likes of you can take over one my cities, go ahead and fuckin try. I dare you. Go on. New York, Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles—“ and he laughed very hard at that thought, “—Boston, any of them. See if you can.”
“We will be.”
America snorted, not impressed at all.
“Didn’t you hear about China?”
America lifted an eyebrow. “What about China?”
“We bombed it. Nuclear weapons, America. You wanna know why? China has the largest standing army in the world. Sending it into chaos and distracting China’s allies has worked very well. Now, who has the best military in the world?” He pointed finger-guns at America. “Statistically, you do. So who is the next most likely target?” Prussia grinned. “The United fucking States of America.”
America smiled and shook his head. “No one knows nuclear weapons better than me. I invented them. I have the equipment to take your shit out. So you go ahead and waste your time. I don’t mind.”
“Oh,” said Prussia, “maybe I’ll just move right on to Russia and England then?”
America burst out laughing again. “Who do you think you are? You get some fuckin land and suddenly you think you’re just fuckin awesome, don’t you? You think bombs will kill England and Russia? I know all about bombs and England and Russia and let me tell you, it doesn’t work. Those two will never die. Besides, Prussia, I didn’t think revenge was like you.” America shrugged. “But, hey, maybe all that time in Moscow struck a nerve.”
Prussia stiffened. “One day, boy, when you find yourself sniveling at the feet of your conqueror, you will remember those words and they will suddenly make sense to you.”
America’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t snivel for anyone. Least of all, you. Oh!” And he grinned. “Unless, of course, you were making another reference to you and Russia! In which, I could totally see you sniveling at Russia’s feet. Bet that gave him a hard-on, right?”
Prussia’s smile tightened. He certainly picked some things up from Europe. “I can see now why England sent you.”
America raised his eyebrows, inviting him to continue.
“But, tired of chitchat. Are you ready, boy?” Prussia swept imaginary dust off his jacket.
America rubbed his hands together and threw his flight gear aside. “Ready and waiting.”
Prussia snickered. “You sounded like France for a moment.” And he dashed at him.
America stood still, watching, analyzing and when Prussia reached him, he ducked and tackled him. They bounced on the deck and Prussia threw himself back, sliding. He braced his feet and shot forward again.
America rolled over his flight gear and he grabbed his knife and jumped up. He dodged Prussia’s fist and stabbed. He barely missed, Prussia latched onto his arm and braced his feet—as if to flip him but America held firm, refusing to budge.
They stared at each other for a moment.
“C’mon, boy, what’s the problem? Don’t want to fight your old mentor?”
“I wouldn’t—but you’re a little crazy now. So crazy sort of trumps all, you know?”
“Would you really say I’m crazy? I’ve had no role in anything anymore. I have little strength and my people are now Germany’s people. I find this ignorant boy with an interesting cause and he offers me land in exchange for my military expertise. He read up about me.”
“What kind of cause could he have had that would make you betray us? Being abolished can’t be that pathetic.”
“What would you know of it? You’re too young, America. I wouldn’t have considered you a man until the end of the Second World War. No matter what France might have done to you during your Revolution or what you might have wished England would do.”
America jerked and Prussia suddenly found the world spinning. He went flying across the deck and smashing into the side rail. He cackled as he slumped down on the deck and got up. “Well, didn’t like that much, did you?”
America barreled across the deck and slammed into Prussia, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall of the wheelhouse. “Looks like your new and improved strength isn’t much of a match for me.”
A few officers were still on deck and they were circling them.
Prussia snickered when he saw them. “Now, you lot stay back and don’t touch. This boy here will rip your heads off.”
America slammed his head back into the wall. “Won’t compare to what I do to you. Where’s Spain?”
Prussia just smiled up at him. “Spain who?”
America jerked back, swept Prussia up and smashed him into the wall. It collapsed and America let him go. “Is he on this ship? I’ll tear this fucker apart if I have to.”
“Oh, then maybe you’ll want to say hallo to India and Burma too.”
America growled and he grabbed for Prussia again.
He heard the telltale click-click-click too late. He tried to jerk back but there was a spark of blue and Prussia slammed something against his gut.
Prussia grinned and jumped up, grabbed America’s shoulder and pressed the stun gun against his throat. The boy jolted again and Prussia took him to the ground. He straddled America and winked, waving the stun gun at him. “And that is why you lose and here you invented these little things too.”
America heaved, trembling under him, muscles twitching and closed his eyes to get his body back under control.
Prussia leaned down to him. “Maybe I should tell you some things? I am already moving my pieces while the rest of you lag behind worrying about the wheres and whens. You know what I think I’ll do when I take England?” He shifted on America, grinning, watching his face turn ugly with anger. “I think that I will enjoy having him for myself. You know? I’ll fuck him raw, of course—but, if it makes you feel better, I’ll ask him if he’s thinking about you?”
America spit in his face, hands clamped to the deck.
Prussia smiled and reached up, flicking off the gob of spittle with his gloved finger. “Well, that was rude, wasn’t it?”
Downstairs, Spain was paying close attention. He started badly. “It is America…he can’t have betrayed us too!”
India was standing, holding onto the bars of her cell and looking towards the staircase. “No,” she said, “there is nothing anyone could offer him that would turn him against the others.” They listened. “He was sent by England…? He had a hunch?”
Spain shrugged. “England is pretty good at spying. I don’t know how he might have known—unless he’s got someone on the inside? Maybe a soldier? If it’s an underground, international thing—that wouldn’t be that hard.”
Burma jumped when the fight started and they couldn’t hear much of what they were saying to each other until a loud crash and America’s voice, inquiring after Spain.
Spain himself jumped up, holding onto the bars. “America! America!”
Prussia snickered. “Do you hear him, America?”
America was still twitching, shuddering but he could hear him. He’s still alive. Thank God.
“I’ll bet you wish you could save him, don’t you?” Prussia leaned down to America’s ear to whisper. “But you can’t. Just like you couldn’t protect your brothers, you won’t be able to protect England and Spain will die—“
America turned his face and bit him. His teeth ripped into Prussia’s cheek.
Prussia jerked back, hand flying to his face. He glared down at America, who looked like some carnal beast with the blood on his mouth and teeth. “So you are ready to fight now, are you? No more toying around?” He got up and waved the sailors back. “Leave him. I’ll wait until he can stand.”
“General Beilschmidt, you could kill him now, sir…”
Prussia’s eyes jerked over to the speaker. “I could kill you too, couldn’t I? He won’t die like a common soldier.” He rolled his eyes. “Go belowdecks until I tell you to come back. The boy is ready to fight now and you all will just get in the way.” He looked down at America, removing his glove and holding it to his bleeding face. “You want some coffee, boy? Wash the blood out of your mouth.”
America may have still been twitching and trembling but Prussia could see the confusion in his eyes. He looked at one of the sailors. “Bring up coffee and two cups, plenty of cream and sugar.”
Thailand only remembered flashes of that night. Mostly the flashes he could see in the fierce lightening and booming thunder. The swells started small, maybe ten feet but quickly rose with the wind, to twenty and then thirty. He hung on grimly while the sea tossed him to and fro. He couldn’t see much without his glasses but the rain was driving—so he wouldn’t have seen much with them anyway.
His hair was stuck to his forehead and cheeks and the churning sea grabbed him up, as if in a fist forty feet high and slammed him down. His makeshift boat burst apart and Thailand went under.
He fought desperately, trying to find which was up, struggling with the robe. He finally managed to rip it as the ocean swirled and plucked him up again. He found himself on the crest of a towering wave. Lightening flashed again and he tried to yell—to get some semblance of himself. To differentiate himself from the storm. To get air. And he put his arms over his face as the wave crashed down.
When Thailand woke up, it was because someone was pulling him. His eyes rolled and managed to open, blinded by bright sunlight. He shut them again and stirred. His ears finally registered sound, voices in English.
“Hurry up—get the ropes! Get him up.”
“Was he in the storm last night?”
“Nah, I’m sure he just decided to take a dive and got lost.”
“Ah, shut up!”
Thailand felt the rope around his middle tug at him but he really wasn’t in much a mood to do anything about it. His limbs felt like dead trees. His head lolled when a pair of hands grabbed him under the arms and pulled him into a boat.
“Ah, look, he’s awake, barely. Hey, fellow, are you all right? Can you speak English?”
Thailand’s tongue crept out and wet the corner of his mouth. His forced his salt-encrusted eyes to open again. “Wa…ter,” he croaked.
There was some thumps and an indistinct blur brought a bottle over, tipping a little into his mouth. Thailand surged a little, breathing in suddenly as if he’d been under water this whole time. His eyes suddenly felt clearer and he struggled up, helped by the man to sit up and desperately drink the water.
“Where you from, mister?” asked a younger voice off to his left.
“Nah, look at him,” said an older, gruffer voice. “He’s Thai. Right? Were you trying to get away from the war, lad? I heard they took Thailand. Just plucked it up.”
Suddenly, out here on a boat with these people who were likely fishermen, telling him so casually that his country was lost—it hit him. I have been exiled from my land. I have lost my honor. What happens to me now? I am lost. My people are lost. He started to shake, trembling.
The fishermen all looked at each other, sympathetic.
“Let’s get him to the shore,” the younger said quietly, watching the young man curl up in his father’s arms and weep. “We should get him some food.”
The two others on the boat went to the oars and started rowing back to shore.
When Thailand woke again, there was a warm hand on his brow. A woman was sitting on a chair next to him with a bowl of rice in her lap. Thailand looked at her. “Miss,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “where am I?”
“You were out in last night’s storm,” she said, gently. “My husband and son found you out in the water this morning when they went out in their boats to fish. They said you were from Thailand.”
Thailand slogged through murky memories and nodded. “I am. From there.”
“Do you have any family over here?”
Philippines. I need to talk to him. He nodded a little. “In Manilla.”
The woman nodded and set the bowl aside to help him sit up. “Do you know the way? My son could go with you…”
“No…,” he whispered to the ceiling, breathing slightly shallow. “I know the way…”
Romano was sitting in his room, staring sullenly at his reflection. Everything in his life had been this way. Everything was one annoyance after another. Honestly, he just wanted people to leave him alone. He put up with Spain (Put up with him!) because he’d known him for a long time but honestly. People kept trying to steal him or they’d steal Spain or they’d just be huge assholes and trick his dumbass little brother. (Fucking Krauts! Fucking Brits! Fucking Yanks! Fucking France—ew—ew—ew, don’t think about that!) Romano shoved himself back from the mirror and paced around the room and went to the window.
Germany was down in the driveway with Italy. He had a rifle and he had to keep pulling the muzzle of Italy’s gun to the right because it kept drifting towards his car.
They were at Hungary’s house because, honestly, the armies didn’t need them there to babysit. So Hungary brought Germany here because he appeared to be taking Prussia betrayal rather hard. Not that Romano believed it. At all. Stupid Kraut.
He still hadn’t quite forgiven him for the World War Two thing. Come to think of it, he hadn’t quite forgiven Spain for being neutral either. (Well, that was different! Different!) He’d had to hang out with England and America after they took the coast and that had sucked because England’s cooking sucked and America was a stupid Yank, or whatever the hell it was that everyone called him.
Well, America had, at least, tried to be nice to him. It was England that did that stiff upper lip thing and—well, he could fuck himself. So there!
Romano automatically glanced around, as if to ensure England had not suddenly materialized to listen to his thoughts.
He snorted to himself and turned away from the window, running his fingers through his hair. He grumbled and swore and sat on his bed, cross-legged and then flopped back and curled up on his side. “Why did you have to get captured? Stupid Spain…”
He bit hit lip hard to keep from shaking.
After America recovered and was able to stand, he sat with Prussia on deck at a small, glass tea table. Prussia poured coffee and took a sip from both cups, the cream and ate a spoonful of sugar to prove it wasn’t drugged.
America still waited for Prussia to drink before he fixed his own cup and drank it, cleaning the blood caked onto his lips. “So what land did he offer you?”
Prussia smirked. “Most of central Europe. I want to be able to take care of Germany, after all. The bit of southern Germany he now has control of has been transferred, officially, to me. Once I help him win the war, I can set up a government again. Wouldn’t mind having a chunk of Ukraine too but somehow I don’t think she’d be willing to come live with me.”
“Yeah, not so much.” America sipped his coffee. “So what, is he going to give you jurisdiction over western Europe too?”
“I haven’t asked. So far, it’s nice just to feel like I’m alive again. Maybe he’ll give me Russia.” He grinned. “Or maybe he’ll give me you and your brother.”
America snorted. “Canada’ll fight you to the bitter end.”
“And you?” He leaned forward on the tea table.
America half-smiled. “I’ll rip your fucking head off and shove it down your throat.”
“That’s what I like to see,” Prussia laughed. “A little bit of brutality never hurt anyone.”
America smiled. “Was that supposed to be funny?”
“A little bit. You smiled, didn’t you?”
America slurped down the rest of the coffee and put the delicate cup down. “Are you ready?”
Prussia grinned. He didn’t answer though; just jumped up, grabbed the tea table by its base and swung. America jumped back, dodged two swings and flitted forward. The tea table should have been awkward in Prussia’s hands but somehow, it wasn’t. America raised his arm when Prussia swept down. The tea table’s metal rim bent around the muscled limb and the glass shattered over the both of them. The glass that remained into the metal circle was like ragged teeth, biting and slashing into America’s shoulder.
He grabbed his gun and fired.
It struck Prussia square in the chest and he staggered back, laughing. America rotated his shoulder and dodged to the left. Prussia hit the railing. The vibrations made the whole bar blur. Prussia cackled, whipping the table back and went at him again.
America went to the railing Prussia had struck and ripped a part of it free. A seven foot long metal rod, that he dodged around Prussia and swung, clobbering him in the back of the head. Prussia staggered forward, whirled around but when he swung the tea table—America shoved the metal staff forward into the circle of broken glass and yanked.
The tea table ripped out of Prussia’s hands and flew overboard.
“Oh,” said America, smiling. “Whoops.”
“You always were more about power than finesse,” Prussia laughed. “Even as a boy. You were better with a battleaxe, rather than the sword. You should have been Scandinavian.”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what I should be?” America flipped the rod and spun, whirling it—
—Prussia grabbed it. With two hands, his feet slid back a foot with the power behind the strike and Prussia laughed. He let go and shook his fingers out. “Damn, boy.”
America threw the piece of rail aside and ran for him. Prussia swayed and when America got close, Prussia jumped, planted a foot on America’s chest and kicked him in the face. America’s hands shot out, grabbed blindly for Prussia’s offending foot before it could touch the deck and swung.
Prussia flipped, slamming into the deck. He got up laughing, looking more excited than America had ever seen him. He hopped from one foot to the other, touched his thumb to his nose and reached to his side, pulling out a combat knife.
America breathed. Prussia watched the boy steady himself, clear his head and shift his stance. He fought like his Marines did. Efficient, powerful and brutal. (Or was that like England? Or like Prussia himself?) When they went at each other, it all moved in a blur, each of them getting into their stride. Speed was the key and America, for being bigger built certainly was quick on his feet.
But Prussia was wiry and fast; he stabbed at America’s eyes. The boy ducked and slammed his fist into Prussia’s gut, so he rammed the knife into America’s back. He jerked.
Prussia snickered and gently petted his shoulders. “Don’t worry. It’ll be—!”
America ripped the stun gun from its case and zapped him. Then he wrenched back, letting the knife stay in his back and grinned.
Prussia staggered away from him, a hand on his chest to steady his fluttering heart. “Well done, boy.” He swayed a little, watching America circle him. If he was in pain, he didn’t show it and Prussia had to admire that, at least a little.
“Let Spain go and I’ll leave.”
Prussia snorted. “There are no negotiations with me, America. I can’t give you Spain. Besides, I’d be stupid to believe you anyway. France and I were the ones who taught you to lie.”
Something crossed America’s face, like he was fighting something internally. Whatever it was, it passed quickly and America stalked over and grabbed Prussia by the front of his black uniform. “I didn’t want to have to fight you, you know. You’re killing Germany. Haven’t you thought about him?”
Prussia smirked up at him. “That’s the way the world works. We nations look out for ourselves too. My brother will come to understand that in time.”
“You son of a bitch,” America sneered, disgusted.
“But,” said Prussia and his eyes flicked down, corners of his mouth sinking, “one thing I will tell you…”
America blinked. “What…?”
Prussia shifted a little and then his hand was moving, something came up and liquid was spraying in America’s face. “Your compassion will get you killed, boy.” He started laughing.
America reeled back. Pepper spray. Son of a bitch. You gotta be kidding—! He felt Prussia’s boot connect with his chest. He staggered back, wheezing, eyes forced closed.
“Now,” said Prussia, briskly, “one day, when the war is over, I’ll fight you and not use tricks like these. But for now, it’s still my win.”
America felt his glasses come off, there were sounds of fumbling and then Prussia tucked them into the breast pocket of his uniform.
“Now, don’t worry, boy,” Prussia went on, voice giving away the grin he was wearing, “I’ll take good care of your plane for you.” He drug America over to the broken railing. “Tell England I said hello.”
Prussia shoved him over.
About an hour later, two calls came in, long after America had been swept away by the ocean. The first was to America’s plane, which Prussia waved away the officers and went to.
Prussia picked up the receiver, grinned and said, “Guten Tag?”
There was a beat of silence. “Prussia…”
“Why, hallo England. How are you?”
“Where’s America!”
Prussia cackled. “Well, currently? I imagine he’s floating somewhere in the Pacific. But don’t worry, I tucked his glasses into his front breast pocket so they wouldn’t get broken.”
England swore and hung up.
The second was from Riis who told him, via operator, that Prussia was to meet him in Kathmandu, Nepal.
Mexico had agreed to come to London after Spain had been taken. Though, it was with a certain amount of trepidation that she did so, getting held up hadn’t been part of her plan and so she ended up not being able to land in London until the fifth of June. A driver met her at the airport and took her to base.
There, England himself greeted her, giving her a short little bow and offering to take her bag. She refused, holding it herself. “Cuba,” she said, “is working between America and I to keep security tight and he’s overseeing the building of a new defense system that America’s boss sent him.”
England nodded and turned; gesturing with his arm to indicate which direction she should walk. “I don’t know how much you wish to be involved—“
“I wish to take a more active role.”
He glanced sidelong at her. “In the past, you have been neutral—“
Her eyes were caramel gold and hard as Ironwood and they met his dead on. “I no longer wish to be neutral. We were thinking about amending the Constitution to allow my military to participate in UN peacekeeping anyway. Now that this war is threatening to leave Europe and come to North and South America, it’s time for us to look out for ourselves. I certainly don’t want to have to rely on the United States to protect me and I won’t hand over my defenses to Europe or Asia. I am fully capable of protecting myself and being involved internationally.”
England raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Of course. We will not keep you from doing so.” He opened the door for her and she stepped through, jaw locked. “We are currently keeping tabs out for Spain should he show himself. So far, we haven’t had any luck.”
“Spain is like a roach,” Mexico said and her eyes were still hard but she had a strange little smile on her face; part rueful, part exasperated, part grudging. “He’ll happily chew and chew and chew and nothing ever kills him. Though it’s been some time ago that I tried to. Maybe he’ll have turned into the pathetic man he acts like and do us all a favor and die.”
England couldn’t help but smile a little and he had to force it back down. What was it with Spain and gathering people around him who enjoyed berating him so much? He said, “You must be tired from your flight? I can arrange for supper, if you like.”
She looked at him. “Your food is very bad.” England looked annoyed suddenly but she went on as if she hadn’t noticed. “I like spicy food, remember, so don’t trouble yourself. I’ll make myself something.”
England’s lips thinned and he put a hand on his chest. “It would be of no trouble, of course. I am only extending hospitality.”
She stopped and so England stopped too. “England, I appreciate it very much.” And she was looking at him again, eyes unflinching; her jaw elegant. She raised a hand and combed it through her long, black hair. “But your reputation precedes you. If it really bothers you, I will teach you to make something—provided that you listen to my instructions,” she pointed a stern finger at him, “and don’t try anything fancy with the peppers. You nearly killed my President last time we visited.”
England sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Must you keep reminding me of that?”
“Yes,” she informed him and then she smiled. And her smile was something brilliant, like the jewels and gold of her predecessors. “Are America and Canada here?”
England smiled back and led her to a wing of rooms. “Not currently. They are both off on missions. France arrived three days ago, along with Vietnam—though North Korea has already left—Japan and South Korea and Taiwan and China are here as well.” He counted doors and opened one for her. “The next large meeting is scheduled for the twelfth. So, in that measure of time, we can begin coordinating your military and catching you up. Russia, Canada and the others are due back any day now. After what happened at the southern German base, we have been holding counsel in London.”
She stepped inside and set her bag by the door. “I’ll be up early tomorrow. The counsel rooms are still in the same place, right?”
“Yes, they haven’t changed.”
“I’ll meet you there then. With France and Japan?”
England agreed and told her good night and gently shut the door. He had to admit that her straightforward manner was refreshing. He liked her embroidery and while her food did something terrible to his mouth, he couldn’t help but enjoy the taste, even if it gave him heartburn.
Four days later, New Zealand and Australia arrived in London. After Japan, Taiwan and South Korea had departed for London to see China, the brothers had gone back to Yemen. There, Australia kept a close eye on his younger brother and they hung around a lot with Oman and Yemen, who kept trying to teach them how to make their thick, strong coffee. New Zealand had been particularly interested in getting it down so he could make it for America later.
Australia’s men had, officially, been sent north to go into Turkey but had declined going with them, deciding he would accompany New Zealand back to England. And maybe beat the tail out of America for leaving without telling them.
The first person they were greeted by was not England but Ireland, who exclaimed and grabbed New Zealand’s face. “Th’ hell happened to ya, lad! Your eye’s all scarred up!”
“I got shot!” New Zealand laughed. “I’m lucky I still have an eye!”
“You didn’t hear ‘bout it?” Australia asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Gah,” she groaned and waved a hand, as if that explained everything, “that worthless younger brother mine might ‘ave mentioned a bit o’ somethin’. But when ‘e starts talking—he drones, y’know? Or, worse, he gets all self-righteous and indignant and it ‘bout puts me to sleep. I’m sure Scotty knows.” She slipped an arm around Australia and her other arm around New Zealand’s neck. “Inside. Weather’s miserable, as always. Mexico’s here, if you’re interested. So’s France, Japan, China, Taiwan and—the other one—oh, and Hong Kong.”
Australia pulled back a little to get the door. “Is he all right?”
“Fuckin’ terrible shape,” Ireland said quietly, shaking her head. “They brought ‘im in a few days back. In even worse shape than China; they weren’t sure he was going to make it. England got him a medical team and cleaned out a room and everythin’. He’s so clingy to the ones that used to be his. Japan’s been lookin’ after China and England’s been runnin’ meetings and whatever it is he does all day. South Korea takes over when England can’t be arsed.”
“How is South Korea?” New Zealand asked.
“Oh, he was commenting on my breasts as soon as I got here, so I imagine the bastard’s just fuckin fine.”
A door opened and Canada came flying around the corner. His whole face lit up. “Hey!”
“Canada!” New Zealand broke free and raced down the hall, tackling his older brother.
“I heard you in the hall!” Canada called, looking over New Zealand’s head to Australia, who bounced forward and hugged him. “Are you guys okay? When America reported it sounded like you guys got the hell beat out of you!”
“Oi, fuck that! They gave ‘em what for, aye!” Ireland called, sauntering towards them.
New Zealand grinned. “How was your mission? They told us you were headin’ north.”
“Yeah, with Russia and the others. We brought back three prisoners.”
“I get cold jus’ thinkin’ about it. No thanks.” Australia clapped Canada on the back. “Any word from that worthless older brother of ours?”
Canada’s smile seemed to freeze and then it fell a little. He shook his head. “Nothing. Russia told me that America never went east with him.”
New Zealand snorted. “Well, it’s Ricky, so he’s probably fine. Off doin’ somethin’ really interestin’ or really stupid.”
“Well, he is a Yank.” Australia shrugged, laughing.
“Yeah, it’s like he’s constantly in his own movie.”
“Are all of you back here for the meetin’ on the twelfth?” Ireland asked.
The three of them nodded.
“They’re still keeping an eye out for Bangladesh,” Canada added. “But no one’s seen her and Thailand, Nepal and Burma are still unaccounted for.”
“What about India?” New Zealand asked, stopping in the middle of the hall and turning to Canada.
Canada shook his head. “Nothing. A lot of her pilots escaped but…” He shrugged.
New Zealand frowned. “She saved our necks ou’ there. We should convince England t’let us go look for her.” He looked at Australia.
Australia rubbed his jaw. “We can ask, mate, but I wouldn’t expect a yes.”
And they didn’t get one. The meeting on the twelfth was a very large one. England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, France, Mexico, Japan, Taiwan, South Korea, Vietnam, Russia, Denmark, Iceland, Norway, Finland, Greenland, Sweden, Ireland and Scotland.
Wales arrived the day of and stepped into the meeting just as it was starting.
England glanced up at him, frowned and nodded. “Sit down, Wales.”
Wales rolled his eyes a little and looked around the room, going around the table. “Budge up, mates,” he said with a smile, sitting between Ireland and New Zealand.
“Don’t you dare start playing cards,” England said severely. “You keep them in your jacket.”
“I haven’t got—“
“Keep the cards away.”
Wales snorted and Ireland poked him and made a funny face. Wales grinned and looked down and took out a notepad. “Yes, sir. Wha’ever you say, yer lordship.”
“Careful,” Australia muttered, “he likes that title.”
“He’ll fancy us to start callin’ ‘im tha’ again,” Ireland sniggered.
“Lads,” said Scotland and he leaned slightly over the table and looked down the line at the rest of them and sighed a little.
“Ah,” said Ireland, with a sage nod. “Elder brother speaks. Quiet down now, then.”
And they did.
England had a vice grip on his stack of papers but knew that thanking Scotland would only earn him more mocking, so he simply nodded and carried on. “China’s current condition has passed out of critical. He’s stable now. The bleeding has finally stopped, likely because Russia, Japan, America and myself moved very quickly to get things under control. Hong Kong, however, is in very bad shape.”
Taiwan bit her lip and looked down at her glass of water.
“He will be in the medical wing until further notice in the sterile rooms. So if you wish to see him, you must see the head nurse or head doctor to clean up and put a suit on.”
“Bloody Christ…” Wales murmured, shaking his head.
“Do you think they’re going to hit anyone else?” Denmark said, leaning back in his chair, frowning.
“Hitting China first is very telling, yes?” said Russia before England could speak. He scooted back his chair and stood, going to the map on the wall. He gestured towards the red stars that peppered China, to indicate the cities destroyed. “The world’s largest population, largest army but just instable enough to do more damage psychologically. But, because he has not struck again we cannot yet say there is a pattern.”
“America seems to already be anticipating a strike,” Canada added. “His military is putting every missile defense system on high alert—the ones at home and the bases in Asia and Europe.”
“America won’t be able to protect any of us from a large scale nuclear assault—not if it’s on the scale as it was in China,” France said, carefully. “We must be able to protect ourselves.”
“That’s very easy for nuclear states to say,” drawled Denmark, “but the rest of us are kinda fucked, right?”
“Unless we all obtained nuclear weapons,” said Vietnam, quietly.
There was a strange silence as this was digested.
But then Japan spoke, eyes trained mostly on England and Russia, nearly between them, “I am not of the perception that it would do much good to my people to become a nuclear state. If we all take up nuclear weapons than what happens when the war is over?”
“Why wouldn’t we just give them…up?” Greenland ventured. “If we—“
“It has never happened that way,” interrupted France. “We all face a common threat right now and so we are all on the same side but once the war is over we will go back to squabbling with each other. That’s the way the world works.”
“The nine nuclear states,” Russia said, looking at the map and pointing at each country as he said the name, “England, China, France, India, Pakistan, North Korea and Israel is suspected to have some and Iran has the knowledge—all of yours together do not even approach the amount that America and I have.”
“One of you two are the next likely targets,” England added, looking rather thoughtful.
“America and I can withstand such a thing.” Russia smirked; it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“Did the Red Star guys ever move in to China?” asked Australia. “In Oman and Yemen we didn’t hear anything about it.”
“It’s been quiet,” said Japan, “inside the Chinese border. We speculated that they would move north but instead, there were heavier attacks to southeast—Laos and Cambodia—and to the southwest—there is fierce fighting in Turkey, Greece, Syria, Iraq and Iran. They received backup not long ago from Australia—” and here Japan gave a small nod to him, “—Saudi Arabia is taking the lead to defend the Middle East, along with America and Russia and various members of England’s Commonwealth. I already shared what North Korea told me and given the instability in the Middle East, they are ready to unite and cooperate.”
“He has moved east and west,” France spoke again, and there was a darker tone to his voice, a slight sneer that made Canada look over at him, “so that he can begin to build himself an empire. That will have been under Prussia’s direction. This is just like him. Prussia has probably informed this unknown little upstart that we are unlikely to retaliate against what we cannot see. We’ll wait and by the time we realize what we can do—it will be too late for us. The farthest this force has gone is into southern Germany but as soon as he showed himself there—he vanished and has not appeared at all in any of the countries inbetween. He is in southern Asia, India, the Middle East, Turkey and Greece. There was a single confrontation up north,” and France nodded towards Russia and Canada, “but nothing else. A lone submarine with very few bombers—indicating a small battle ship somewhere but not one that was close enough—or, possibly, big enough—to assist. They have air and land power but they have not yet taken the sea. They only have harbors now that they have taken India and are using it as a base of operations. This all reeks of Prussia.”
Canada reached over and gently touched France on the wrist, who tensed and met Canada’s eyes. Canada’s inquiring, worried eyes. France gave a short shake of his head and looked away. Canada looked over at England but he also looked away. Canada frowned and looked to Russia, who was looking between England and France.
“So,” said Mexico, breaking the suddenly awkward silence, “has anything come out of the interrogations?”
England looked at her, eyes hard. “They are all in solitary confinement for now.”
“I would like to interrogate them,” Russia interjected.
“No,” England said, narrowing his eyes, “I do want them to live through it.”
The meeting drug on for another two hours. Everyone went through several glasses of water, and then came the tea and coffee and doughnuts that no one touched. And Ireland had a throbbing headache and France was looking more and more agitated with each passing second.
When New Zealand finally asked about looking for India, England refused and took no arguments for the idea, simply saying, “Now, we should make our coordinate plans. We—“
“Has anyone heard from America?” Canada asked, rather loudly. When England eyed him, he went on, “It’s just—it’s been two weeks. No one’s heard anything. The last person he spoke to was you.”
England sighed a little. Well, they’ll find out soon enough. “I sent him to look for Prussia.”
Canada’s mouth dropped open and his head tilted to the side.
New Zealand’s eyes were fluttering. “Wh-what? Why did he lie? Why did you lie?”
England raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if asking for patience. “I did no such thing. It was supposed to be a secret because I have found that the fewer who know about an operation, the better and there is a possibility that there is another traitor among us. They are, after all, getting supplies from someone. But,” he went on, gesturing to Canada, “if it will make you feel better, I will contact him after the meeting.”
They all looked at each other.
England took a sip of his tea. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell anyone—because you will all begin to suspect each other and that is exactly what Prussia would want. When you have a larger enemy, you build out and spread dissent from the inside.”
France seemed to be getting paler. He touched the edge of the table.
No one noticed.
Prussia docked in Bangladesh that evening, welcomed by a small unit of black uniformed soldiers. A lieutenant with two red stars on his collar marched up to him and gave him a sharp salute, “General Beilschmidt, sir, welcome to Bangladesh. We have a plane awaiting to escort you on, sir. Is it just you?”
Prussia smirked. “Oh, no. My three prisoners will be coming with me. I hope you have a large plane.” Prussia looked back, watching his officers drag the three ragged-looking nations. They each had a black sack over their heads and their hands were cuffed behind their backs. All three of them were bare-foot. “Step lightly, you guys. The rocks are kinda sharp.”
One short jet ride later and they landed at the Tribhuvan International Airport. From there, it was on to an armored car into the city.
Kathmandu was a busy, pretty, historical city—the subject of songs and books that Prussia hadn’t seen much of. He liked to see things for himself. So he was very interested in looking out the windows at the temples and markets and alleys and mountains. Several of the buildings had been mounted with the two-star flag and there was a soldier on every other corner. The streets were deserted.
It was very, very quiet.
When he was finally taken, with Spain, Burma and India, to see Riis, the first thing Prussia noticed was Nepal.
He was a small nation. He was taunt and slim, known for his stubborn nature. Though, he was easy to get along with and was friends with many nations. None of that cheeriness was currently present. He sat on Riis’ right side, in an unadorned chair in front of a rectangular table in a simple conference room. His skin was a golden and his hair was dark brown. He did not fidget. Only his eyes moved, narrowing in on Prussia.
It made Prussia smile a little. That kind of hatred was visible ten miles away.
Riis said, “Take those off their faces.”
The officers turned and untied the drawstrings and pulled the black sacks off.
Spain opened his eyes and breathed. No wonder Burma hated those bags so much; they reeked of death and fear. It was cloying. He heard a little start and saw Nepal staring at India but the boy bit his lip so he wouldn’t speak. The officers put the three of them on their knees. Spain, Burma and India in a neat row.
“Spain,” said Riis. He smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”
Spain didn’t answer. He stared back, eyes hard.
“So, Riis, what do I owe the pleasure?”
The boy’s blue-black eyes shifted to Prussia. His eyebrows lifted. “Riis?”
Prussia laughed. “Calling you WR is fucking lame. You either need to come up with a name for yourself or I’m going to call you Riis.”
Riis looked at him for a moment and then he smiled. “All right.” He got up from his chair and went around the table to the prisoners. He went to Burma and reached out, touching his face. “Why are you trembling, Burma?”
Burma’s lip quivered and he swallowed hard; Spain watched his Adam’s Apple bob. He opened his mouth but then couldn’t seem to speak.
“Prussia,” said Riis, sliding his hand up through Burma’s ragged hair. “Did you get anything out of him yet?”
Prussia turned around, watching and crossed his arms. He smiled. “Not much. Mostly that he just wants to go home and doesn’t want us to hurt India.”
Riis’ fingers snarled into Burma’s hair and jerked, pulling a startled gasp out of him. “Burma, don’t you want equality and freedom for all your people?”
Burma blinked and looked up at him; his golden eyes apprehensive. “W-what?”
Riis got down on his knees so he was eye-level with Burma and raised his other hand, touching Burma’s throat, caressing.
Spain stiffened and tried to move closer but the two officers pulled him away. India looked alarmed as well and her eyes met Spain’s over the top of Burma’s head.
“The ideal that I represent—equality, the right to be healthy, the right to an education, the right to not be spit on because of your family, or your skin color, or your past. I want to create a glorious world.” He continued stroking Burma’s skin. Burma whimpered and tried to jerk back but Riis grabbed him. “Shush, shush, it’s okay. Don’t be scared.” He leaned forward, ignoring the way Burma tensed and screwed his eyes shut, and kissed him on the forehead. When he leaned back, he had a terrible smile on his face.
It shot off warning bells in Spain’s skull. “Get away from him!”
Riis’ eyes flashed and the next second, Prussia was there, backhanding Spain. “Now, really, Spain. Children should be seen, not heard.” Prussia cackled.
Spain’s head snapped to the side and he glared under his matted bangs at Prussia.
“Oh,” said Prussia and he got down on his heels and grinned at him. “That’s such a dangerous look from you. I remember when you were like that all the time.”
Riis started speaking again, stroking Burma’s face and hair. “You see, Burma. People join me for many different reasons. Some of them are selfish and only want to accomplish their own goals—I just give them the venue to do so and that’s okay because I will take care of them after the war is over. But others—others really care about their people. Nations like you, Burma, join me because they care about their people. They want to see their people happy. Don’t you want your people to be happy?”
“Burma,” India snapped, “he is trying to trick you. Just ignore him. Don’t answer.”
Riis glanced up and the officers moved. One grabbed India’s shoulders; the other folded the black sack and gagged her with it. He looked back at Burma, who was looking distressed now, desperately, at India. “Oh, Burma. You don’t want us to hurt India. Do you love India?”
Burma stuttered. “She…is my friend.”
“But you haven’t seen much of her in awhile. Do you desire her? You were both wards of England at one time. Is that when it started?”
“I—I don’t!” Burma shook his head, eyes going everywhere else. “I—no. I.”
“Shush, shush,” Riis said again, gently touching his thumb to Burma’s mouth. “It’s okay. Just relax. No one is going to hurt you today. And we won’t hurt India so long as you behave. Okay?” He smiled and nodded encouragingly.
Burma trembled but he nodded back.
Riis stood up. “Prussia.”
Prussia winked at Spain, kissed his grimy cheek and stood too. “What’s up?”
Riis walked back towards the table and looked back, waving a hand to dismiss the guards. When they had gone, he looked up into the windows, where the light was dimming rapidly. “During World War Two, Germany had concentration camps for all those deemed inadequate by his leader. Japan also had these camps, though they are less talked about because they made a deal with the Americans. They agreed that, in exchange for their people not being put to trial, they would give all of the information they gained to the United States. You know what that information was?”
Spain watched as Prussia turned and nodded. “I do. Human experimentation with bacteria, plague, sexual diseases and the like.”
“They also infected fleas and dropped them from low-flying planes in China. Thousands died from plague epidemics.”
Spain’s mouth opened just a little and his eyes darted over to India, who looked horrified.
Prussia raised his eyebrows and said, “Is this something you want to do? Because most developed countries have cures for those diseases now. Bubonic plague, syphilis, cholera, and typhoid fever—you know. So that’d be kind of a waste. You could end up infecting our own men.”
Riis’ eyes came down from the window and he looked at Prussia. “I want to test it, to see how the Allies react. I want them to be fearful of me. You advised me to pull back to a contained area and build out and encouraged me to spread dissent from the inside of powerful countries. But you also told me that the ship that Russia, Canada and the others would be on would not be a battle ship and that it would be easily taken. Now I have lost one of the two submarines I control and they have taken prisoners.”
Prussia met Riis’ eyes. “I didn’t know they would be taking a battle ship. I assumed it would be something smaller.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. You blundered. So I want you to pick a country.”
Prussia’s eyebrows raised. “Any stipulation with that?”
“I want to see results.” Riis looked at the map, drawing his fingers over Russia.
Prussia chuckled and sauntered over to him. “Don’t even bother testing it in Russia or America or any place like that. They’ll put their borders on lock down. They have huge populations. You won’t see fast results there. Your best bet is to do a place you already have some degree of control over. Or a place that you can view the results quickly and easily. Remember, I can’t watch them from the inside anymore.”
“Pick a nation.”
Spain felt his mouth go dry. Not plague. Not plague. He threw another look at Burma and India, whose faces had turned ashen. He looked at the back of Prussia’s uniform, watching him. His red eyes gleamed over the map for a long time and Spain thought he might not answer but then he said, “India, is, obviously, the best choice.”
“No!” Burma cried out. “No!” He looked at India, shaking his head. “You can’t!”
India herself went still, staring, eyes deadened.
“We did promise not to hurt India,” said Riis.
Prussia looked back at the three of them and grinned. “She won’t die from plague. I remember plague. So does Spain and England and France and Russia—they all feared plague and for good reason. Back then, no one understood how it spread. With your having control over the country, we can evacuate our men and leave India’s population. If she gets sick, you’ll know whether it worked or not.”
“You won’t be able to do that,” Nepal sneered, finally speaking, though quietly. “The other nations will do what they can to help.”
“India is under my control, Nepal,” Riis reminded him. “And it doesn’t just have to be plague. There are lots of bacteria that we can use. It’s just a matter of picking one that’s suitable for the location. Smallpox or Cholera would be good candidates. They scare people. It doesn’t matter if they all die. They just need to be frightened. Frightened people run together. We’ll evacuate the doctors too.”
“You can’t be serious.” Prussia and Riis both looked at Spain, who was staring at them. “Why would you do that? You just preached about equality and health and you’re talking about creating an epidemic and killing—they’re innocent.”
Prussia didn’t say anything. He just looked at Riis.
Riis just shrugged. “I can’t expect you to understand. I’m trying to create something bigger than that.” He looked back to Prussia. “If this doesn’t work, I will hold you personally responsible.”
Prussia nodded and smiled. “I understand.”
Outside, the last rays of the sun went out.
But by then, England had hung up the receiver and left London, alerting all Allied ships in the Pacific to be on the look-out for American air force pilot, Alfred Jones. He stayed out all night until a ship made contact with his helicopter. A French battle ship that England set his pilot for immediately.
By the time they found the ship and landed, it was nearly dawn and England was still wide awake. He jumped out of the helicopter and two officers escorted him to the infirmary.
“He’s sleeping, General Kirkland,” said one of them, touching the door and pointed through the glass.
“Was he all right when you found him?”
“He was shivering and he seemed really tired but otherwise, he complained about getting lost at sea a lot. He also had some cuts and bruises.”
England couldn’t help but smile at that. “Let me in. I’ll stay with him until he wakes.”
1. Baron von Steuben was a Prussian military officer who helped train the Americans during the Revolutionary War. It is from him that America gained its basic military structure.
2. The Ironwood is a real tree. It's one of the most dense woods in the world.
3. Bio Warfare
4. Mexico was once a colony of Spain, as was Cuba.
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Date: 2009-08-15 09:19 am (UTC)Joins the oh noes FRANCE! chorus
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Date: 2009-08-17 03:12 am (UTC)Oh, France.no subject
Date: 2009-08-17 04:16 am (UTC)>.>