It was a dark day in Iraq, no one knew what was going to happen, not even America, the blonde nation was with the soldiers in Iraq, ready to ambush a squad team when the plan went wrong. It went totally wrong, little did the American troops know that it was all a trap, many of the soldiers were brutelly murdered, other's were captured. That included Alfred,

America. He had snuck into the military base pretending to be such a man, luckily he went unseen by the General, always having his head covered by someone, (he had to crouch down at times)

"Let the go of me!" America howled as he was tossed to the ground, he had swung his hand around to his belt pocket to grab his pistol when a gun was put to his head. A dark gruff looking man with black raggied hair and not shaved beard, with missing teeth, he wore a dark tan uniform similar to his own troops he spoke in a terrible english accent but it was fluent enough. "Make a move Alfred F. Jones, or should we say, America and i'll shoot you with this gun. I may not be able to kill you, but i and the whole army of my soldiers will make sure you'll never wake up again." The man waved his finger tips forward and saw shadows cover him.

America gulped for air realizing he was holding it, his glasses were already cracked, his face was scratched up from the kicking and beating, and all around him laid dead troops, from both sides. "What do you want..." He whispered, voice stronger than he expected eyes locked onto the trigger, he glanced briefly up at the man who grinned toothlessly. "That's none of your concern Alfred."

The general stepped back, but didn't lower his gun when suddenly he felt men tackle him into the ground again, he felt sharp pain ripple through his ribs as he was kicked and punched once more, America had no time to react when a large bat was smashed against his head.

The world was snapped in darkness.