[CHAPTERFIC] You Can't Take the Sky From Me Chapter Five (Axis Powers Hetalia)
Title: You Can't Take the Sky From Me [FF.NET Chapter Five] [ Writing Journal Previous Chapters ]
Pairing: AmericaxEngland, PolandxLithuania, GermanyxItaly. future pairings: GreecexJapan, HungaryxAustria, SwedenxFinland, SpainxRomano, Belarus--->Russia
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama/Action+Adventure/Alternate Universe
Word Count: 3,374
Summary: Ace Pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of Sky-Pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. [USxUK- Steampunk AU]
Chapter Summary: Germany and Italy help with the long-awaited reconnaissance mission.
“There’s two doors out of the main chamber,” America explained, pulling out the old map again. “One leads to umm… the kitchens, and the other leads to the living quarters.”
“Let’s go to the kitchens!” The lieutenant piped up.
Germany frowned. “Are you hungry again? There’s not going to be any food there.”
Veneziano sulkily put his free hand on his stomach. “I am hungry, but… I thought maybe we could look there because if I was trying to keep something secret, I’d hide it in the kitchen.”
“Haha, wow Lieutenant Vargas. That makes no sense!” America laughed.
Author's Note: Special thanks to radishey for Brit-picking the first four chapters of the fic. What's up Germany and Italy? Someone else is introduced in this chapter as well. ;)
Russia’s scarf shifted on his shoulders as he closed the heavy oak door behind him. He walked across the amply decorated room. Tapestries covered all four walls and a small crystal chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. The leader of the Kosmider sat down on a small couch, covered in rich maroon velvet and gold embroidery. Leaning forward, he ran his finger across the map that was splayed across the dark wood table. “Lithuania, come sit next to me?”
Lithuania was standing by the door, a frown on his face. “Russia, sir. Yes.” He stepped across the room and sat down next to the light-haired man. Russia smiled.
“Good, Lithuania. Now let’s look at this map together, shall we?” Lithuania stiffened as Russia slipped open a box of pushpins he had sitting next to the map. He took one out and toyed with it in his fingers for a moment before pushing it into the map.
“There are only nine crews of notable sky pirates left in the world’s skies, did you know that?”
“No Russia, I had no idea, sir.” He fidgeted with his hands in his lap.
Russia laughed; small, quiet, deceptively gentle. “I’d not expect you to.” He stroked the blue top of the pushpin. “The Ukko Pirates out of Fálki, the rulers of the northern seas.” He paused. “Oh and there’s the Nuberu pirates, known for, of all strangeness, assisting merchants. Or maybe the Taliesin, the oldest crew in the skies, although their current captain is quite young.”
Lithuania gulped. “Sir?”
“We’ll soon turn nine into none. Won’t it be fun?” Lithuania didn’t reply. Russia placed his hand on Lithuania’s shoulder and smiled. “And I’ve noticed there have been some other… insects popping up lately. It seems that we’ve drawn the attention of higher powers.”
“Ah?”
“Oh yes,” Russia explained. “And I don’t like that very much. Right now the swarm is small, but it will only grow as time goes by. I do believe we need to move things along more quickly. Don’t you agree, Lithuania?”
He merely nodded. “I---I--- “
“You don’t need to answer.” He leaned down and looked at Lithuania, unblinking. He lowered his voice, “I know I’ll have your support.” Lithuania's green eyes widened. “Now, if you could just make sure everyone is aware of where we’ll be attacking tomorrow, that would be very helpful.”
“Where will we b-“
Russia interrupted him by placing a red pushpin into the map. “Here. There are nuisances there that we must squash.”
“Y-yes… sir.”
Russia stood up and stiffened, placing his hand in a fist across his chest. “My Vlasteliny Nebes, Lithuania.”
Lithuania pushed himself off the couch and returned the gesture. “My Vlasteliny Nebes, Russia… sir.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
America could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stepped up into the cockpit of his Aeronaut. There was no reason to be nervous. He was leading a routine reconnaissance mission that was hardly going to be a huge test of his mettle. But as America instructed his team on their departure, he found that his stomach felt as if it contained a circus acrobat. They’d just left the warship fleet between Luong and Tsuru, where they’d stopped for further instruction from General Wang of the ocean fleets, before continuing onward to Medved.
China’s warship army was formidable, and America found himself fighting a deep admiration for the leadership skills the general must have needed to keep a handle on his fleet. It only succeeded in making him more nervous. He wasn’t a general, but he still had more responsibility than he ever had before.
Within minutes the trio of aviators had departed from the fleet. America looked back on it, watching the steam puff from the pits in the center platforms. He watched the rows that lined the side of the ships, pushing the wooden and metal behemoths forward. It wasn’t people pushing those boats forward, but complex gears and machinery. It was the only fleet left of its kind in the world. The Luong branch of the military’s attempt to update it to modern age had been mostly unsuccessful. It never caught on anywhere but Luong itself, and even there a gradual shift toward newer ships and submarines had been occurring in recent years. The ships were just another ancient machine that would someday be lost to the industrial age they’d entered over a century before.
He looked away from the fleet and his mind wandered, albeit unwittingly, to something else that might soon be a relic of the past. The sky-pirates are a dying breed. There’s less than ten substantial crews left in the world’s skies. America gritted his teeth and his fingers found the fob watch that hung at his belt. He thought of the promise he’d eventually have to fulfill, and how he dreaded whatever it would end up being. He thought of England’s obnoxious face as he coerced him into the deal, manipulating his own emotions against him. At least that’s how he saw it. He thought of how ever since England had spat those words about him not being a hero, he’d felt a little less confident in who he was. “Well fucking good,” he mumbled to himself. “The fewer, the better.” He pounded his fist on the dashboard and shook his head to clear it, then cleared this throat.
“All right everyone. We’re over halfway there. Japan, you’ll enter from the… west,” he had to pause to look at a piece of paper he’d scribbled down notes on, “France, you’ll be coming from the east. I’ll be entering from the center.”
“The backup?” France spat over the radio.
“He is the captain, France,” Japan countered, the crackling of the radio making it difficult to hear his soft voice.
“Speak up, Japan!” America yelled. “And yes I am the captain and the hero, so shove it, France. This isn’t a combat mission. You’re not the backup. You’re just going to be covering a different area, geez.”
“Oui, oui. When do we contact the Major and Lieutenant?”
“As soon as we see land. At that point, we’ll head different directions.”
Both Japan and France replied in the affirmative, verifying his command. Their flight continued, the silence only broken by France making lewd comments. “Oh you should have been there when we stopped on that island and I ran off with that girl we met, Seychelles. She was…” “SHUT UP FRANCE!” “We’ll have to visit La Poule sometime. We’re far less inhibited there. Why, wearing your clothes is considered a faux pas.” “That’s such bullshit.” “Your fly is unzipped, America.” “WHAT? Wait… you can’t even see me!” This was all laid over with intermittent sighs of exasperation from Japan. It was a routine. France and America couldn’t go on a flight without France vulgarly snarking at him over the radio in attempt to rile him up.
He waited until France had been quiet for several minutes before speaking. “America?” came Japan’s voice over the radio, louder now, as had been requested. “Good luck on your first mission, Captain.”
“Thanks, Japan.” Maybe he could get through this after all.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Germany frowned as he ran his glove over the large steel door. “Veneziano, we might need some explosives.” He glanced back to his partner, who was peeking out the top of the tank they’d arrived in.
“Ah coming, Germany,” he replied. He slipped into the tank and emerged a few moments later, several sticks of dynamite in hand. He bounded over to Germany and handed him the explosives.
“Good, Veneziano. Now make sure your crank radio is working and we can contact America’s unit with it. I’ve already tested mi--- “
Veneziano opened the door.
“Wha- “
“Haha Germany!” He smiled. “You didn’t try turning the latch?”
Germany blanched and walked back over to the tank, putting the explosives away. “It’s very possibly a secret base. I just assumed the door would be--- oh never mind, could you test your crank radio?”
Veneziano nodded and reached down to his side, connecting the wire to the frequency America’s unit was on and turning the crank to power the system. “Helloooo! Lieutenant Vargas here, is it working?”
There was a crackle before the reply. “Yeah we’re here! Captain Jones.” “Sergeant Honda.” “Private Bonnefoy.”
“Now that we’re all synced up, we’ll be entering the base,” Germany explained, now standing back at the door. “You are to land at the coordinates provided if we radio you the code we discussed.”
“Right, right!” America replied. “We’ll be all ‘here we come to save the day’ right when you need us!”
“Wow, you make it sound so fun!” Veneziano exclaimed. “Let’s be heroes!”
Germany rolled his eyes. “Veneziano, turn on your flashtorch. We’re entering the base now.”
The old military base was carved into the side of a hill near the shores of Medved. Even from where they stood, about half a kilometer inland, they could hear the crash of the waves against the shore. The base was entirely underground, and had been state of the art at the time. But over thirty years before, it had been abandoned. It was only when they received intelligence that there had been activity at it recently that the World Military remembered it again.
The pair shone their flashtorches into the base and stepped inside. It reeked of saltwater and mildew, and Veneziano scrunched his nose up in disgust. He placed his hand on the wall and pulled away immediately.
“Ahh, it’s so slimy and stinky, Germany. I don’t think this place has been used in years.”
“If they intended to keep this place secret, they would have wanted it to look unused.” He stepped around a large puddle of water that leaked from the stone ceiling. “Captain Jones. Can you tell us how to get to the main chambers?” The sound of parchment rumpling echoed over the radio.
“Damn this map is old. Could have gotten us a new one…” He paused. “Three turns to the left, then walk straight for a while. Then you’ll come across a fork. Go right and you’ll run right into it.”
Germany and Veneziano continued down into the base, their flashtorches the only thing allowing them to see in the pitch dark. After a few minutes of walking and two left turns, Veneziano screeched in pain. Germany turned around, quick as a flash, and was next to his partner.
“Ow, it hurts!”
“What happened?”
“I touched the wall over there and then my foot landed in this pit and my ankle hurts!” Germany lowered his flashtorch. “It must be a booby trap. Ahh, I should have been more careful.”
“It’s not a booby trap.” Germany frowned. “It’s just a dent in the ground.” He grabbed Veneziano below his arms and pulled him away from the hole. “Can you walk?”
Veneziano wiggled his toes in his boot. “I think I’m fine! Sorry for worrying you, Germany.”
He flushed. “I-It’s no problem, Veneziano.”
They pushed forward again, taking one more left as America had instructed them, before coming to the aforementioned fork.
“Everything all right down there, Major?”
“Yes, Captain. We should be almost there.”
“You haven’t come across anything yet?” came Japan’s voice over the radio.
“Just lots of gross slime and mud and stinky water,” complained Veneziano.
“Haha that actually sounds pretty cool. It’s… really boring up here right now,” replied America.
“I could always entertain you with some stories again,” France quipped.
“Oh fuck off, France.”
Germany sighed deeply and shook his head. “I believe the entrance to the main chambers is just ahead. I can see it.”
“Awesome! Let us know what you find.”
“Of course. Veneziano, come on.” Veneziano scampered behind Germany as he pushed open the large door.
It was dark as pitch on the inside, the flashtorches providing only minimal light in such a large room. Veneziano commented on how scary it was and grabbed Germany’s arm, squeezing it with all of his might. “Probably used for training exercises.” He noticed racks on the wall that were made for holding guns and blades and continued surveying the room. After several minutes, he grumbled to himself. Veneziano was still clinging to his arm. “Nothing here, Captain Jones. If they were here, they knew we were coming.”
“Are you saying there’s a snitch in the military?!” America gasped. “No way. That’s terrible!”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s still more of the base to explore.”
“Maybe we should try another room?” Veneziano offered.
“There’s two doors out of the main chamber,” America explained, pulling out the old map again. “One leads to umm… the kitchens, and the other leads to the living quarters.”
“Let’s go to the kitchens!” Veneziano piped up.
Germany frowned. “Are you hungry again? There’s not going to be any food there.”
Veneziano sulkily put his free hand on his stomach. “I am hungry, but… I thought maybe we could look there because if I was trying to keep something secret, I’d hide it in the kitchen.”
“Haha, wow Lieutenant Vargas. That makes no sense!” America laughed.
Germany tapped his chin. “Hmm. Indeed. Let’s go to the kitchens. Captain Jones, which door is it?”
“Ah what? It’s the left one… but…”
“Veneziano likely meant it in a completely nonsensical manner, but if the Kosmider is trying to be secretive, no one is going to suspect that they’re hiding evidence in the kitchens. It’s a good hiding place.”
Veneziano grinned and bounced on his toes. “I had a good idea, Germany?”
“Yes, it was very good.” He glanced down to the soldier hanging on his arm and smiled lightly.
The pair sauntered across the room and down the hall into the kitchen, which was far more unpleasant than any room they’d entered yet. Rusty pots and pans hung on walls, and distilled water dripped from the ceiling into mildew covered basins that had once been sinks.
Germany raised his flashtorch and shone it all over the kitchens, and Veneziano followed suit. “Not really finding anything,” he remarked into the radio. “I think this is a cold trail. The Kosmider is cleverer than this.”
“Dammit,” America cursed.
“AHHHHHHH!” yelped Veneziano from across the room. Germany ran over to him and gasped. He’d pushed himself against one of the walls, and it had moved. “I found a secret chamber, Germany!”
“Indeed you did.” He shoved the wall aside more, and squeezed inside, Veneziano following. The flashtorch immediately shone upon a pair of shackles on the wall. “Ah, a prison cell. This is something.”
“Anything in there?”
“Nothing that I can see. Wait a moment…” Veneziano flashtorch had just hit the far left wall, where a chilling message greeted Germany’s eyes, written in what looked like black coal.
By the time you see this, it is already too late. The skies are theirs.
Veneziano trembled. “S-Scary. What does it mean, Germany?”
Germany frowned. “I don’t know.” He read the message over the radio to the pilots.
“We own the sky,” America recalled.
“Who knows how long they’ve been working underground?” France commented. “Who knows how far their plans are advanced?”
“Either they never used this base and we were sent here on a false lead, or they’ve used it and cleared out long before we arrived,” Germany reasoned.
“They must be many steps ahead of us,” Japan sighed.
“Maybe that’s what the message means?” Veneziano cut in. “If we’ve found out about them… that means…”
“It means that they are more than ready for us,” America finished, his voice grim.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They searched the rest of the base to no avail, and Germany and Veneziano said their goodbyes to America’s team and thanked them for their help. They’d relay the message in the cell to their superiors, but they’d have nothing else to tell them. The aviators did one last flyover of their respective areas, refueled at a nearby station, and began heading home. The reconnaissance mission was a failure, although at least, not due to anyone’s ineptitude. America smacked his fist on the dashboard of his plane and cursed. “Man, how badly has this week sucked?” he whined. “My first week as a captain should have been the most awesome week ever but…”
France chortled. “America, your radio is on.”
“Dammit!”
“If you’d like, I can greatly improve your week when we get--- “
“I am NOT in the mood, France.”
“I’m quite good at providing the mood--- “
“I have a headache, so can we not do this?” Japan asked politely.
“Gladly,” America replied. “In fact, I’m going to turn my records on and take my headset off. You guys can let me know if you need anything. Actually need anything, France.”
America flew faster than the other two pilots, and he soon lost sight of them as he soared through the late morning skies. He flew for hours, his sour mood lightening as the steam power carried his plane through bright clouds and pleasant weather. The sky really was beautiful, and damned if he was going to let someone take that from the world. His fist clenched as he thought of the Kosmider and their quest, if what their slogan said was true. He wanted to put a face with the name, but as of right now, it was just a silhouette, or many silhouettes. He had no idea who they were, but he wanted them gone from his life just the same.
He didn’t stop in Luong. France and Japan did, and he’d originally planned to himself. However, he was content in his plane, and didn’t wish to come down to the ground yet. He radioed to tell them he was continuing and flew over the island continent. By the time he reached the ocean on the other side, it was early evening. The purple and pink melded with the orange in a stunning sunset, and America leaned back in his cockpit to appreciate it.
His radio crackled. America swiftly picked it up. “Hello?”
“America, America, are you there?” He recognized the voice immediately. Even just saying his name, the accent was a dead giveaway.
“England? What the hell?” America gritted his teeth and scowled. “Why are you radioing me? I could get into trou- “
“IDIOT! It was just three days ago and you’ve already forgotten the vow you made?” It was then that America noticed the panic in England’s voice.
“I-I-didn’t forget! I was just hoping you would.” He thought he heard cannon fire on the other end of the radio.
“Where are you?”
“About one hundred and seventy-five kilometers northwest of Luong,” he replied. “What’s going on?”
“Blast! I don’t have time to explain it to you. Just follow my signal. No one else can trace it, trust me,” England said in a rush.
“Eh? You want me to trust you?”
“YES. YES I DO!” he yelled. “Now you made a promise, a vow,” his voice was strained, desperate, even. “I don’t know how much you can help, but you’ve got to do it.”
America’s eyes widened. “W-what’s going on?” he asked again.
“You’ll see when you get here. Just fly as fast as you can. I’m begging you!” England’s tone grew more impassioned.
“Desperate enough to beg someone from the military?” America quipped.
“It’s not like tha--- “
America stroked his watch. A pirate was a pirate, and it made his stomach churn to make a deal with one. But he had shaken on it, and it appeared that England was now in danger. His mind flitted through all of the things he utterly could not stand about the pirate captain, and the list was long. But despite that, his mind conjured up England’s pouting face when he’d been embarrassed and the contented way he’d watched his ship’s sails fly in the wind; America did not want him to suffer in any way. And it was that realization that confused America most.
“I-I’ll be right there, England.”
Pairing: AmericaxEngland, PolandxLithuania, GermanyxItaly. future pairings: GreecexJapan, HungaryxAustria, SwedenxFinland, SpainxRomano, Belarus--->Russia
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama/Action+Adventure/Alternate Universe
Word Count: 3,374
Summary: Ace Pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of Sky-Pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. [USxUK- Steampunk AU]
Chapter Summary: Germany and Italy help with the long-awaited reconnaissance mission.
“There’s two doors out of the main chamber,” America explained, pulling out the old map again. “One leads to umm… the kitchens, and the other leads to the living quarters.”
“Let’s go to the kitchens!” The lieutenant piped up.
Germany frowned. “Are you hungry again? There’s not going to be any food there.”
Veneziano sulkily put his free hand on his stomach. “I am hungry, but… I thought maybe we could look there because if I was trying to keep something secret, I’d hide it in the kitchen.”
“Haha, wow Lieutenant Vargas. That makes no sense!” America laughed.
Author's Note: Special thanks to radishey for Brit-picking the first four chapters of the fic. What's up Germany and Italy? Someone else is introduced in this chapter as well. ;)
Russia’s scarf shifted on his shoulders as he closed the heavy oak door behind him. He walked across the amply decorated room. Tapestries covered all four walls and a small crystal chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. The leader of the Kosmider sat down on a small couch, covered in rich maroon velvet and gold embroidery. Leaning forward, he ran his finger across the map that was splayed across the dark wood table. “Lithuania, come sit next to me?”
Lithuania was standing by the door, a frown on his face. “Russia, sir. Yes.” He stepped across the room and sat down next to the light-haired man. Russia smiled.
“Good, Lithuania. Now let’s look at this map together, shall we?” Lithuania stiffened as Russia slipped open a box of pushpins he had sitting next to the map. He took one out and toyed with it in his fingers for a moment before pushing it into the map.
“There are only nine crews of notable sky pirates left in the world’s skies, did you know that?”
“No Russia, I had no idea, sir.” He fidgeted with his hands in his lap.
Russia laughed; small, quiet, deceptively gentle. “I’d not expect you to.” He stroked the blue top of the pushpin. “The Ukko Pirates out of Fálki, the rulers of the northern seas.” He paused. “Oh and there’s the Nuberu pirates, known for, of all strangeness, assisting merchants. Or maybe the Taliesin, the oldest crew in the skies, although their current captain is quite young.”
Lithuania gulped. “Sir?”
“We’ll soon turn nine into none. Won’t it be fun?” Lithuania didn’t reply. Russia placed his hand on Lithuania’s shoulder and smiled. “And I’ve noticed there have been some other… insects popping up lately. It seems that we’ve drawn the attention of higher powers.”
“Ah?”
“Oh yes,” Russia explained. “And I don’t like that very much. Right now the swarm is small, but it will only grow as time goes by. I do believe we need to move things along more quickly. Don’t you agree, Lithuania?”
He merely nodded. “I---I--- “
“You don’t need to answer.” He leaned down and looked at Lithuania, unblinking. He lowered his voice, “I know I’ll have your support.” Lithuania's green eyes widened. “Now, if you could just make sure everyone is aware of where we’ll be attacking tomorrow, that would be very helpful.”
“Where will we b-“
Russia interrupted him by placing a red pushpin into the map. “Here. There are nuisances there that we must squash.”
“Y-yes… sir.”
Russia stood up and stiffened, placing his hand in a fist across his chest. “My Vlasteliny Nebes, Lithuania.”
Lithuania pushed himself off the couch and returned the gesture. “My Vlasteliny Nebes, Russia… sir.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
America could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stepped up into the cockpit of his Aeronaut. There was no reason to be nervous. He was leading a routine reconnaissance mission that was hardly going to be a huge test of his mettle. But as America instructed his team on their departure, he found that his stomach felt as if it contained a circus acrobat. They’d just left the warship fleet between Luong and Tsuru, where they’d stopped for further instruction from General Wang of the ocean fleets, before continuing onward to Medved.
China’s warship army was formidable, and America found himself fighting a deep admiration for the leadership skills the general must have needed to keep a handle on his fleet. It only succeeded in making him more nervous. He wasn’t a general, but he still had more responsibility than he ever had before.
Within minutes the trio of aviators had departed from the fleet. America looked back on it, watching the steam puff from the pits in the center platforms. He watched the rows that lined the side of the ships, pushing the wooden and metal behemoths forward. It wasn’t people pushing those boats forward, but complex gears and machinery. It was the only fleet left of its kind in the world. The Luong branch of the military’s attempt to update it to modern age had been mostly unsuccessful. It never caught on anywhere but Luong itself, and even there a gradual shift toward newer ships and submarines had been occurring in recent years. The ships were just another ancient machine that would someday be lost to the industrial age they’d entered over a century before.
He looked away from the fleet and his mind wandered, albeit unwittingly, to something else that might soon be a relic of the past. The sky-pirates are a dying breed. There’s less than ten substantial crews left in the world’s skies. America gritted his teeth and his fingers found the fob watch that hung at his belt. He thought of the promise he’d eventually have to fulfill, and how he dreaded whatever it would end up being. He thought of England’s obnoxious face as he coerced him into the deal, manipulating his own emotions against him. At least that’s how he saw it. He thought of how ever since England had spat those words about him not being a hero, he’d felt a little less confident in who he was. “Well fucking good,” he mumbled to himself. “The fewer, the better.” He pounded his fist on the dashboard and shook his head to clear it, then cleared this throat.
“All right everyone. We’re over halfway there. Japan, you’ll enter from the… west,” he had to pause to look at a piece of paper he’d scribbled down notes on, “France, you’ll be coming from the east. I’ll be entering from the center.”
“The backup?” France spat over the radio.
“He is the captain, France,” Japan countered, the crackling of the radio making it difficult to hear his soft voice.
“Speak up, Japan!” America yelled. “And yes I am the captain and the hero, so shove it, France. This isn’t a combat mission. You’re not the backup. You’re just going to be covering a different area, geez.”
“Oui, oui. When do we contact the Major and Lieutenant?”
“As soon as we see land. At that point, we’ll head different directions.”
Both Japan and France replied in the affirmative, verifying his command. Their flight continued, the silence only broken by France making lewd comments. “Oh you should have been there when we stopped on that island and I ran off with that girl we met, Seychelles. She was…” “SHUT UP FRANCE!” “We’ll have to visit La Poule sometime. We’re far less inhibited there. Why, wearing your clothes is considered a faux pas.” “That’s such bullshit.” “Your fly is unzipped, America.” “WHAT? Wait… you can’t even see me!” This was all laid over with intermittent sighs of exasperation from Japan. It was a routine. France and America couldn’t go on a flight without France vulgarly snarking at him over the radio in attempt to rile him up.
He waited until France had been quiet for several minutes before speaking. “America?” came Japan’s voice over the radio, louder now, as had been requested. “Good luck on your first mission, Captain.”
“Thanks, Japan.” Maybe he could get through this after all.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Germany frowned as he ran his glove over the large steel door. “Veneziano, we might need some explosives.” He glanced back to his partner, who was peeking out the top of the tank they’d arrived in.
“Ah coming, Germany,” he replied. He slipped into the tank and emerged a few moments later, several sticks of dynamite in hand. He bounded over to Germany and handed him the explosives.
“Good, Veneziano. Now make sure your crank radio is working and we can contact America’s unit with it. I’ve already tested mi--- “
Veneziano opened the door.
“Wha- “
“Haha Germany!” He smiled. “You didn’t try turning the latch?”
Germany blanched and walked back over to the tank, putting the explosives away. “It’s very possibly a secret base. I just assumed the door would be--- oh never mind, could you test your crank radio?”
Veneziano nodded and reached down to his side, connecting the wire to the frequency America’s unit was on and turning the crank to power the system. “Helloooo! Lieutenant Vargas here, is it working?”
There was a crackle before the reply. “Yeah we’re here! Captain Jones.” “Sergeant Honda.” “Private Bonnefoy.”
“Now that we’re all synced up, we’ll be entering the base,” Germany explained, now standing back at the door. “You are to land at the coordinates provided if we radio you the code we discussed.”
“Right, right!” America replied. “We’ll be all ‘here we come to save the day’ right when you need us!”
“Wow, you make it sound so fun!” Veneziano exclaimed. “Let’s be heroes!”
Germany rolled his eyes. “Veneziano, turn on your flashtorch. We’re entering the base now.”
The old military base was carved into the side of a hill near the shores of Medved. Even from where they stood, about half a kilometer inland, they could hear the crash of the waves against the shore. The base was entirely underground, and had been state of the art at the time. But over thirty years before, it had been abandoned. It was only when they received intelligence that there had been activity at it recently that the World Military remembered it again.
The pair shone their flashtorches into the base and stepped inside. It reeked of saltwater and mildew, and Veneziano scrunched his nose up in disgust. He placed his hand on the wall and pulled away immediately.
“Ahh, it’s so slimy and stinky, Germany. I don’t think this place has been used in years.”
“If they intended to keep this place secret, they would have wanted it to look unused.” He stepped around a large puddle of water that leaked from the stone ceiling. “Captain Jones. Can you tell us how to get to the main chambers?” The sound of parchment rumpling echoed over the radio.
“Damn this map is old. Could have gotten us a new one…” He paused. “Three turns to the left, then walk straight for a while. Then you’ll come across a fork. Go right and you’ll run right into it.”
Germany and Veneziano continued down into the base, their flashtorches the only thing allowing them to see in the pitch dark. After a few minutes of walking and two left turns, Veneziano screeched in pain. Germany turned around, quick as a flash, and was next to his partner.
“Ow, it hurts!”
“What happened?”
“I touched the wall over there and then my foot landed in this pit and my ankle hurts!” Germany lowered his flashtorch. “It must be a booby trap. Ahh, I should have been more careful.”
“It’s not a booby trap.” Germany frowned. “It’s just a dent in the ground.” He grabbed Veneziano below his arms and pulled him away from the hole. “Can you walk?”
Veneziano wiggled his toes in his boot. “I think I’m fine! Sorry for worrying you, Germany.”
He flushed. “I-It’s no problem, Veneziano.”
They pushed forward again, taking one more left as America had instructed them, before coming to the aforementioned fork.
“Everything all right down there, Major?”
“Yes, Captain. We should be almost there.”
“You haven’t come across anything yet?” came Japan’s voice over the radio.
“Just lots of gross slime and mud and stinky water,” complained Veneziano.
“Haha that actually sounds pretty cool. It’s… really boring up here right now,” replied America.
“I could always entertain you with some stories again,” France quipped.
“Oh fuck off, France.”
Germany sighed deeply and shook his head. “I believe the entrance to the main chambers is just ahead. I can see it.”
“Awesome! Let us know what you find.”
“Of course. Veneziano, come on.” Veneziano scampered behind Germany as he pushed open the large door.
It was dark as pitch on the inside, the flashtorches providing only minimal light in such a large room. Veneziano commented on how scary it was and grabbed Germany’s arm, squeezing it with all of his might. “Probably used for training exercises.” He noticed racks on the wall that were made for holding guns and blades and continued surveying the room. After several minutes, he grumbled to himself. Veneziano was still clinging to his arm. “Nothing here, Captain Jones. If they were here, they knew we were coming.”
“Are you saying there’s a snitch in the military?!” America gasped. “No way. That’s terrible!”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s still more of the base to explore.”
“Maybe we should try another room?” Veneziano offered.
“There’s two doors out of the main chamber,” America explained, pulling out the old map again. “One leads to umm… the kitchens, and the other leads to the living quarters.”
“Let’s go to the kitchens!” Veneziano piped up.
Germany frowned. “Are you hungry again? There’s not going to be any food there.”
Veneziano sulkily put his free hand on his stomach. “I am hungry, but… I thought maybe we could look there because if I was trying to keep something secret, I’d hide it in the kitchen.”
“Haha, wow Lieutenant Vargas. That makes no sense!” America laughed.
Germany tapped his chin. “Hmm. Indeed. Let’s go to the kitchens. Captain Jones, which door is it?”
“Ah what? It’s the left one… but…”
“Veneziano likely meant it in a completely nonsensical manner, but if the Kosmider is trying to be secretive, no one is going to suspect that they’re hiding evidence in the kitchens. It’s a good hiding place.”
Veneziano grinned and bounced on his toes. “I had a good idea, Germany?”
“Yes, it was very good.” He glanced down to the soldier hanging on his arm and smiled lightly.
The pair sauntered across the room and down the hall into the kitchen, which was far more unpleasant than any room they’d entered yet. Rusty pots and pans hung on walls, and distilled water dripped from the ceiling into mildew covered basins that had once been sinks.
Germany raised his flashtorch and shone it all over the kitchens, and Veneziano followed suit. “Not really finding anything,” he remarked into the radio. “I think this is a cold trail. The Kosmider is cleverer than this.”
“Dammit,” America cursed.
“AHHHHHHH!” yelped Veneziano from across the room. Germany ran over to him and gasped. He’d pushed himself against one of the walls, and it had moved. “I found a secret chamber, Germany!”
“Indeed you did.” He shoved the wall aside more, and squeezed inside, Veneziano following. The flashtorch immediately shone upon a pair of shackles on the wall. “Ah, a prison cell. This is something.”
“Anything in there?”
“Nothing that I can see. Wait a moment…” Veneziano flashtorch had just hit the far left wall, where a chilling message greeted Germany’s eyes, written in what looked like black coal.
By the time you see this, it is already too late. The skies are theirs.
Veneziano trembled. “S-Scary. What does it mean, Germany?”
Germany frowned. “I don’t know.” He read the message over the radio to the pilots.
“We own the sky,” America recalled.
“Who knows how long they’ve been working underground?” France commented. “Who knows how far their plans are advanced?”
“Either they never used this base and we were sent here on a false lead, or they’ve used it and cleared out long before we arrived,” Germany reasoned.
“They must be many steps ahead of us,” Japan sighed.
“Maybe that’s what the message means?” Veneziano cut in. “If we’ve found out about them… that means…”
“It means that they are more than ready for us,” America finished, his voice grim.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They searched the rest of the base to no avail, and Germany and Veneziano said their goodbyes to America’s team and thanked them for their help. They’d relay the message in the cell to their superiors, but they’d have nothing else to tell them. The aviators did one last flyover of their respective areas, refueled at a nearby station, and began heading home. The reconnaissance mission was a failure, although at least, not due to anyone’s ineptitude. America smacked his fist on the dashboard of his plane and cursed. “Man, how badly has this week sucked?” he whined. “My first week as a captain should have been the most awesome week ever but…”
France chortled. “America, your radio is on.”
“Dammit!”
“If you’d like, I can greatly improve your week when we get--- “
“I am NOT in the mood, France.”
“I’m quite good at providing the mood--- “
“I have a headache, so can we not do this?” Japan asked politely.
“Gladly,” America replied. “In fact, I’m going to turn my records on and take my headset off. You guys can let me know if you need anything. Actually need anything, France.”
America flew faster than the other two pilots, and he soon lost sight of them as he soared through the late morning skies. He flew for hours, his sour mood lightening as the steam power carried his plane through bright clouds and pleasant weather. The sky really was beautiful, and damned if he was going to let someone take that from the world. His fist clenched as he thought of the Kosmider and their quest, if what their slogan said was true. He wanted to put a face with the name, but as of right now, it was just a silhouette, or many silhouettes. He had no idea who they were, but he wanted them gone from his life just the same.
He didn’t stop in Luong. France and Japan did, and he’d originally planned to himself. However, he was content in his plane, and didn’t wish to come down to the ground yet. He radioed to tell them he was continuing and flew over the island continent. By the time he reached the ocean on the other side, it was early evening. The purple and pink melded with the orange in a stunning sunset, and America leaned back in his cockpit to appreciate it.
His radio crackled. America swiftly picked it up. “Hello?”
“America, America, are you there?” He recognized the voice immediately. Even just saying his name, the accent was a dead giveaway.
“England? What the hell?” America gritted his teeth and scowled. “Why are you radioing me? I could get into trou- “
“IDIOT! It was just three days ago and you’ve already forgotten the vow you made?” It was then that America noticed the panic in England’s voice.
“I-I-didn’t forget! I was just hoping you would.” He thought he heard cannon fire on the other end of the radio.
“Where are you?”
“About one hundred and seventy-five kilometers northwest of Luong,” he replied. “What’s going on?”
“Blast! I don’t have time to explain it to you. Just follow my signal. No one else can trace it, trust me,” England said in a rush.
“Eh? You want me to trust you?”
“YES. YES I DO!” he yelled. “Now you made a promise, a vow,” his voice was strained, desperate, even. “I don’t know how much you can help, but you’ve got to do it.”
America’s eyes widened. “W-what’s going on?” he asked again.
“You’ll see when you get here. Just fly as fast as you can. I’m begging you!” England’s tone grew more impassioned.
“Desperate enough to beg someone from the military?” America quipped.
“It’s not like tha--- “
America stroked his watch. A pirate was a pirate, and it made his stomach churn to make a deal with one. But he had shaken on it, and it appeared that England was now in danger. His mind flitted through all of the things he utterly could not stand about the pirate captain, and the list was long. But despite that, his mind conjured up England’s pouting face when he’d been embarrassed and the contented way he’d watched his ship’s sails fly in the wind; America did not want him to suffer in any way. And it was that realization that confused America most.
“I-I’ll be right there, England.”