Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya. I do own the plot below.
Kareem is an OC. He does not represent any country and is used for the purpose of advancing the plot.
Last note, if you are not familiar with all of Hetalia, there are gender bent characters, and the fan name is Nyotalia.
This is a one-shot, which may become a series of one-shots, to make a whole story.
Rated T, potentially M.
Started with a Bang
Everything was perfect. Everything had been set accordingly. A stillness was in the air, although the city streets of Tel Aviv were bustling. The brilliance of the lights from towering skyscrapers and local hangouts were enough to make Detective Kirkland curious as to where he'd go to celebrate this wondrous occasion.
"I haven't felt this sure of anything in a while." He thought with confidence.
Arthur Kirkland was the youngest Senior Detective in the International Intelligence Agency. And this was his first major case. An underground arms dealer known as Kareem, had made a fortune selling civil warring countries weapons and causing problems for the world's organizations and leaders. Stopping him was nearly impossible. And yet he was stupidest criminal known to any intelligence agency. He left mess after mess, tracks that were never covered carefully and cleaned up his crimes hastily, giving many agencies leads. But his massive stock of firearms and explosives kept everyone away. 2 years ago, the Nordic task force was greatly injured, due to Kareem setting off a bomb after being cornered in a nightclub in Stockholm. Berwald took the brute of the massive explosion, pushing his team members away. His gentle voice was brought to a loud bellow as he yelled for the party of people to get down or as far away from the VIP section as possible. The bomb flashed before it exploded, sending the Swede and most of the unsuspecting VIPs flying across the club. It was an international tragedy as 8 people were killed and others horrifically injured, losing limbs from the blow or being trampled upon by hordes of panicked club-goers.
The injured member of the case said he never saw Kareem's face.
That's when Arthur had been assigned the case. Inspector Wang had laid the case file on his desk.
"I believe only you can solve this."
"ME?! This is a mass lunatic! How would I be able to solve this!?"
"Read the file." urged the Inspector.
Case Number 2009834
Code Name: Kah Boom
Name: Kareem Kamaliazad
Age: 22
DOB: June 4, 1993
Summary: Kareem became orphaned in a car crash, believed to be the government of his native country's doing. Kareem finished his schooling, he gambled much of his inheritance away. Using the last of his inheritance, an 18 year old Kareem bought a stock pile of weapons from a Brazilian drug lord who needed to get rid of them before authorities could arrest him. It was suspected Kareem bought the guns to entertain himself, but sold them to a small jihadi group, who started wreaking havoc on the very government that killed his parents. After making money off that first arms deals, Kareem started to make a living off the illegal sales. He isn't a smart criminal, but his knowledge of weaponry and money makes him danger to himself and others.
"He's nothing more than rich kid with a grudge." Arthur scoffed with disdain.
"That's why I sent Mathias in. He's a party guy and that's Kareem's crowd. Berwald said that Mathias had been trying to arrest Kareem before he threw the bomb in the air and detonated it. Berwald was barely able to pull Mathias away from the bomb." Inspector Wang shook his head, eyes closed, and head bowed.
Arthur was still thoroughly confused, thus he asked:
"When have I ever demonstrated the skills to take down an international arms dealer?"
"Well, believe it or not, you have a talent for organization." There was a glint in the young eyes of the old man, who didn't look a day over 25 years old, although he was twice that age. "When you helped organize the party for the new recruits, you had everything expertly planned and the various tasks were executed properly. Your judgement of people is top notch. You have natural leadership abilities. Just apply your party planning skills to the case and I'm sure you'll do fine." The old man smirked, walking away.
Within weeks of receiving the case, Inspector Wang had assembled a team for Arthur and gave them the name "The Allied Task Force". Seeing as each member was from a country that served on the allied forces in the former World Wars. Arthur spent 18 long months planning things accordingly, and now his plan was in full throttle. Along with a well-deserved promotion to Lead Detective for Division 3 and his own office floor for his task force members and his own private office(to better ignore the arguments of his mismatched task force members). Not to mention, a huge bonus to pay for the mariage de rêve ultimate, that his French bridezilla-to-be had been going on in raptures about for 3 months since his proposal.
"What have I managed to get myself into?" he chuckled lightly.
He grabbed a walkie-talkie from his utility belt and pushed a button.
"American Eagle 1776, come in..."
After a bit of static, an energetic voice answered back.
"Totally copy, King Henry the 8th! What's up?"
The sigh from the Canadian tech genius matched Arthur's eye roll perfectly.
"That is not my codename."
"I like it better than Bentley Gentlemen."
"Which also, is not a codename I agreed to….For once, be serious."
"Alright dude, relax." The voice calmed itself and came over the radio waves professionally, "This is American Eagle 1776, copy British Buccaneer."
"Thank God you take your job somewhat seriously. Give me an update."
"Kareem doesn't suspect a thing! He's going hardcore on the dance floor!"
"Don't get distracted. Remember, you need to be leaving no later than 10:45pm, to finish the weapons agreement."
"Totes got ya bro! American Eagle 1776 out!"
The walkie-talkie buzzed with static as the field agent had cut off his communication device, to continue to dance.
"I don't see how you deal with that brother of yours, Matthew."
"I tune him out sometimes, but he's not a bad guy. He just doesn't take things seriously." Matthew answered, quietly.
"Confuses me to how he's an agent in the first place. But he does the job credibly. Sometimes. Which reminds me, it's fraudulent to fill out your brother's field reports. You could be discharged because of it."
The shy 20 year old became red. "Is it that obvious?"
"Alfred wrote his old field reports in text lingo. I though it odd he became proper so suddenly." Art had a smirk on his face.
"I promise, I'll tell him no this time…"
"No such luck. To the best of his knowledge he's getting away with it. I want to see his face when I call him out. Only to teach him a lesson."
Francine "Frankie" Bonnefoy
Francine was eager to finish the mission at hand. She had a wedding to plan and was upset that no formal announcements had been made. She had family and friends to tell, venues to search, wedding dresses to try on, pounds to lose, wines to taste, save-the-dates to make, caterers to taste, wine cellars to visit….wine sounded quite refreshing. A nice red wine, perhaps merlot? Non, too light, too simple. Being in Tel Aviv, the cuisine might call for Pinot Noir, considering Shwarma, the popular lamb based meal would probably be what her beloved fiancé would want to try.
Ever since the random proposal, Francine was rushing about, stressed. And a wrinkly bride she did not wish to be. And wine helped aging, so her half a bottle a day became a full bottle a day. When Arthur confronted her about it, she countered that her wine eased her as much as his herbal tea blends eased him. Inspector Wang joked, with a serious inflection, Frankie's wedding may cause her to become alcoholic.
The Frenchwoman inhaled through her nose and gently exhaled through her glossy, full lips and reminded herself, "This is our last mission together as well as his first team case he was assigned to lead. I must stay focused until the end. If things go wrong, I'll never get my dream wedding, because he'll obsess over this until he is on his death bed."
Thinking back on the proposal, the nervous Briton had remained silent the whole evening. His reserve demeanor called for Francine to panic.
"Does he want to break up? What if he feels our relation is, très risqué, pas professionnel?" She inwardly asked.
Outwardly, she asked, "Arthur, is something troubling you, Mon Cher?"
He shook his head.
More silence passed between them as they walked down the cobblestone streets of London.
"Frankie, I want to talk." His voice sound grim. He was monotone and seemingly upset.
"Oui?"
"We've been dating for some time now and I have enjoyed it. But I'm afraid something has been troubling me and I'm not sure how to express it."
She stared at him, as he shifted back and forth, her violet eyes filled with worry.
"This thing, this "relationship" between us is not working out as I planned." His green eyes meet hers. His face was quite blank. As if he didn't know what to say. He went on talking, but not a word was heard. Thoughts overwhelmed Francine's mind. They became louder, blocking out the banter that was Arthur's rejection.
"This is the end! To think! I date a British gentlemen and he breaks my heart! I gave him all I could! I am not a woman of secrecy! I do not sneak around for just any man! Only you Arthur Kirkland! And now you plan to stomp on my heart!?" Her inner voice was loud with dramatics.
"….And it's against the rules of the agency for partners to participate in romantic relationships, without telling HR. But then that would reassign us to new partners, and your new partner would have definitely been Francis, and I just couldn't stand for that…So I thought much better to date in secret. And in all honesty, I don't want to lose my job…" The nervous rambling from Arthur's mouth continued, but Francine paid no attention.
The pretentious, stand-offish attitude he had when they had first met clashed with her classy yet snob like ways. He never had any patience with her, and she always judged him and yet the two had found love in the loops, twists and turns of their roller coaster like relationship.
"I do not typical date girls like you. I never would have believed I could manage a relationship with a woman as…extravagant as you are. We do things so spontaneously. The only thing you plan about your day is your clothing! You basically do what you feel like…..it's so unstructured…"
And it was now coming to an end. He would probably leave her for some dowdy female Briton, with glasses, who dressed much more conservatively than she dressed and did not have as much womanly abundance as she did. Like the librarian that was so elated to see Arthur when he returned to the library every week. He was often kind to her. Too kind….
"…So, Francine Marianne Bonnefoy, Will you marry me?"
Having allowed her own thoughts to go wild (not to mention, ignoring Arthur's proposal) she responded:
"I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU ARE LEAVING ME FOR SOME DOWDY LIBRARIAN! I CAN ASSURE YOU, MONSIUER, SHE IS COMPLÈTEMENT RIDCULE! SHE IS NOT NEARLY LIKE ME IN ANYWAY, AND IT SHOWS THAT YOU HAVEN'T GOOD TASTE IN ANYTHING FROM CUISINE TO WOMEN! I ASKED YOU OUT ON WHIM, A DARE! TO MYSELF TO SEE HOW MUCH MORE UTTERLY RIDICULOUS YOU COULD BE IN PUBLIC! BUT I NEVER THOUGHT YOU WOULD CHARM ME THE WAY YOU DID! HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SUCH WELL-MANNERED, PRETENTIOUS, THOUGHTFUL, GENTLEMEN LIKE YOU! I-…" She took a deep a breath, wanting to resume her rant, but saw Arthur down on his knee, with a brilliant cut diamond ring in a small box. His facial expression was the stuff of memes.
"Wait…what?" she asked, breathlessly.
"I…I want you to marry me, but if you are adverse-…"
"No! I thought you were leaving me!" she answered.
"Why on Earth would I do that?" His thick eyebrows were raised, his face perplexed.
"You were so quiet this evening. I thought-…"
"Will you marry me or not, Frankie?"
"Of Course! I thought you'd never ask!"
He placed the ring on her finger and gave her a kiss.
"I wish you would have proposed at the restaurant like a normal person." She grieved.
With an eye roll, Arthur grabbed Frankie's hand, and continue their walk to her apartment to celebrate the engagement.
"Nothing would have made that proposal more perfect." She thought, watching a sports car pull up into the alleyway.
A jovial young man dressed in club-goer chic outfit got out the driver side, while a well-dressed, hipster-chic blonde got out on the passenger side. The two talked and laughed for a few moments.
Francine kept her sniper scope on Kareem. He looked ill prepared, just as the Detective Kirkland said he would. Things seemed to be going swimmingly. Al had presented the weaponry to Kareem and Kareem had the money. Just as the two men were about to shake on it, there was a random gun shot. Al and Kareem had their hands in the air.
Alfred "Al" F. Jones
Al couldn't make out the figure looming towards them. But the voice was familiar. A Russian accent called out.
"If you give the money, then we'll have no worries."
"This is weird. Did you set me up?" Kareem questioned, incredulously.
"No way bro!" Al answered remaining in cover. "I have no-…"
2 shots were fired and Kareem slowly dropped to the ground.
Al looked down at the dead body in disbelief. Who exactly was this black mailer?
The tall figure stepped forward.
"Ivan?" Alfred didn't know how to react.
Ivan was one of the newest agents at the agency. He was a quick learner, which is why Inspector Wang had a lot of faith in him. But Alfred nor Task Force leader Arthur trusted him, because of his troubled past. Alfred expected something like this. Ivan constantly snooped around the agency, swearing he was lost and play innocent. But Al saw through it.
"Ivan, this all types of wrong." Al had strong values and morals. Ivan had betrayed the Agency. This was unforgiveable.
"I have good reasoning for this. I promise I will pay the Agency back." Ivan promised, innocently.
"It's more than that and you know it. You take this money and you'll be blacklisted. Your life will be nothing but you hiding in the shadows."
"I'm used to that." Ivan answered sadly.
He cautiously walked over to Kareem's dead body, holding Alfred at gun point.
Ivan grabbed the brief case full of money, and then held his hand out for the keys to the van loaded with weapons.
Alfred had no choice. He had no weapons, which was Kareem's requirement when meeting business partners. The comms unit was buzzing in his ear, Detective Kirkland was begging Al to copy him or he would send reinforcements, while Frankie was frantically asking should she shoot.
He nodded his head to the van and said, "In a key holder, under the door on the driver side."
Ivan grabbed the keys and opened the door, he looked back at Al with happy, yet pained expression. He quickly drove off into the stillness of the night, in the bustling city.
Alfred copied to Arthur on his comms unit.
"Ivan went rogue."
Translations: I used google translate
mariage de rêve ultimate- The ultimate dream wedding
COMPLÈTEMENT RIDCULE! - Completely ridiculous!