This is a story based on the 1# World Bestseller "Red Storm Rising" By Tom Clancy. I do not own the story plot or Hetalia. I am just a fan. Please note this isnt identical to the original book
Please enjoy.
It was still dark when Iceland's phone began playing Lofsöngur loudly. His eyes shot open and he stared at the clock for a long moment before groaning. 1:56 in the damn morning. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was America. Oh what did that incompetent fool want this time? Didn't he know that it was early in the morning? He probably did, just wanted to play a prank on Iceland. Slowly he flipped the lid open and pushed the phone to his ear.
"Iceland here.." He said, the sleepiness muffling his words.
"Iceland!" America said on the other line loudly. Although he was loud as always, instead of sounding like a cocky idiot, he sounded distressed.
"Mmm...?" Iceland replied back, hoping that he would hurry up and get to the point. It was too early to be worrying about America and him complaining about there being no MC Donald's when he came to see Iceland and such.
"Have you not heard? It's Russia, he's launching an attack on Germany." He said, the worry turning his voice higher pitched and almost strained from the amount of sound coming from his voice box.
Iceland blinked. "Really? That's bad..." He replied. He tried to sound as sympathetic as he could as he himself had no army and he had no real close relationship to Germany.
"He's not only attacking Germany though.." He said, obviously trying to tell him something important. "He's on his way to your house...I'm sorry Iceland but I can't get there for at least 7 hours. You're going to have to hold out until I get there.." America said, sounding distressed and guilty that he couldn't be there to help Iceland. Iceland stared at the floor in shock. Not once in his life had war been started on his country. He had been invaded, but he never fought back. Iceland swallowed a large lump and slowly nodded.
"O-Okay America...Thanks for telling me..." He murmured before hanging the phone up. He sat on his bed for a long moment before leaping to his feet and dressing himself quickly. He called Keflavik air base and informed them of the incoming intruders. All of Iceland within 20 minutes was in battle stations.
"Sir, we have a visual on the target" A soldier said, informing his high leader in the respective language.
"Spasibo" Russia said, smiling innocently at the soldier before dismissing him. Russia looked on both sides of the ship to see 2 frigates on each side, helping to protect the carrier. Down on deck, Tupolevs were taking off, filled with bombs and weapons. His lips curved into a slight smirk before going back up to the bridge. His plan was simple. Occupy weak and defenseless nations and break up NATO.
In the radar rooms, Icelanders crowded around a number of screens, watching for any intruders on the radar. This was difficult as the technology was old and hadn't been used in such a way since the cold war.
"Sir! 5 Tupolevs heading our direction! Make that 8." One man announced. Iceland spun around, his violet eyes wider and more desperate than ever.
"Permission to launch sir." Another said. Iceland thought for a moment, contemplating whether to fire missiles or not. What if they were the American planes coming early. Then again they were tupolevs. They had to be Russian.
"Permission granted..." Iceland replied. With a flick of a button, 10 missiles were launched at the planes, hopefully, about to bring them down.
"We've got missiles" The voice fuzzed over the radio in the carrier's bridge.
"You've trained for this. You know what to do" Russia replied, the childish smile covering his face.
"Roger." The planes went in a nosedive towards the cold Atlantic ocean below as the missiles followed their course. The planes began flying in circles separate to each other before getting ahead of the missiles in a highly practiced and professional way. They were at least 4 minutes ahead of the missiles by now and on a direct course to Keflavik, Iceland.
"Targets still have not been reached sir." Skit. The missiles had failed and the Russian bombers were on there way with, likely, heavy armament. On the radar, the planes stopped 9,000 meters before they reached land, firing missiles and other armory.
"Sir! 80 missiles have been deployed and are on their way!" One of the men yelled across the room. Iceland's eyes became wider as he stared at the man.
"At least they aren't nukes.." Another man said, obviously trying to keep a positive attitude.
"With 80 missiles, they don't need to be fucking nukes" Iceland snapped, clearly confused on what to do. He had never been trained on these types of things and he was just going on what he thought was right.
"Everyone. Get as low underground as you possibly can." He said, keeping a calm tone in order not to start a panic. The men all jumped up from their seats and ran to the door that lead to the basement. There was a loud ear piercing screech before the whole room erupted into flames, the shock waves throwing everyone off their feet. Iceland groaned and sat up after a long while. All around him, the bodies of his own people lay scattered. The electronics were fried and the smell of gas filled the room. That was enough to bring him back into full consciousness. He stood up, swaying for a moment from the pain in his head and how quickly he got up. He felt his stomach turn and he ran to the door. He swung the door open and his eyes focused on, what used to be, Keflavik. Houses were burning various shades of orange and red. The airport had damage to it, the runways the only things being in good condition. Icelanders ran about, trying to escape the chaos. One man ran passed carrying his 11 year old son. The boy's face was painted in blood and he lay limp in his father's arms. Iceland felt as though everything inside him was breaking. His own people were dying. He had to stop this. A burning sensation began to take place in his head and it began to violently throb. Iceland groaned and put his hand to his head, finding that it was bleeding. He looked on his white shirt and saw blood staining it, the majority of it not even being his own. He felt tears prick in the corner of his eyes before another loud screech sounded in his ears. He ran to his car which, surprisingly, was still intact despite the slight burns to the doors and shattered windows. He put the keys in ignition and sped away, as all signs of anymore life had been swept away. He had to warn everybody else before it was too late.
He had been driving for at least 20 minutes before reaching Hafnarfjördur. He pulled up outside a grocery store and got out the car. He looked at the people gathering onto the streets, looking at the large column of smoke rising from Keflavik. Woman placed there hands over their mouths and some began to weep while a group of men began to argue about whether to go out and check for survivors or not. The excuse being the Russians could get them. Iceland sighed. Humans could be so stupid. This may very well be their last night and they are arguing. Shouldn't they show peacefulness and compassion to one another? He opened his mouth to speak before his phone went off again. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled his phone out, flipping the lid open and answering the call.
"Hallo?" Iceland said, hoping it was America calling to say he would be there in at least the next few minutes.
"Hey Iceland. How's things going there?" America said down the other line. Iceland felt like biting America's head off for that comment. How do you think its going you idiot? I've got no army and I'm going against Russia. Oh everything's fine. We are just having a cup of tea and playing checkers. Hallo? Its a war you idiot!
"Keflavik just got the shit blown out of it and I'm in Hafnarfjördur at the moment about to warn the people" He answered down the phone, restraining any trace of annoyance or frustration aimed at America.
"Ooh okay. Well we'll be there in at least 4 hours okay? Well I gotta go, you know. War and such. Later!" America said down the phone before hanging up. Iceland sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. That idiot.