Title: The Insurrection Game
Author: Kyotoagnes
Pairing: Austria x Germany x Switzerland x Prussia
Summary: AU, because there's no way Prussia can plot patiently, the Cold War never ended and the world as we know it has ended right?
Rating: M
Warnings: Slightly dark, character death but they get better. Harem cliche
Word Count: God knows
Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, Studio Deen and Gentosha Comics may they continue to put out more pretty boys for me to use in a purely not for profit way of course.
Chapter One: A Little Something for a Rainy Day
1981
Walther had always thought Jerold was a bit off but he'd dismissed it after this night he couldn't. He wouldn't ask about how Jerold had gotten the truck or the transit papers. But he was damn sure going to ask about the metal boxes they'd spent hours digging up that sat heavy in the back of the truck. He was going to ask precisely what precisely Jerold had in mind. Walther suspected he knew what it was. Subtly and tact were not in Jerold's vocabulary it really was a wonder the Stasi hadn't hauled him in. Ordinarily Walther would be suspicious of that alone but every time he met Jerold's odd dark eyes he knew without a doubt Jerold might be many things but a turncoat or spy wasn't one of them. He couldn't explain it but he was willing to risk himself, his men and his family on the words Jerold whispered over beer after hours in a dark bar. Sometimes he wondered if he was crazy then Jerold would look at him or slap him on the shoulder and he felt like they were on the edges of something momentous.
Eric nudged him and pointed to the pull off ahead of them and the figure leaning on a motorcycle waiting for them. Jerold smiled at them, a general genial smile as they climbed down from the truck, his eyes refracted oddly in the light and Walther was certain he was wearing contacts.
"No troubles then?" He queried as they walked towards the back of the truck.
"No except the damn things are heavier than hell." Eric grumbled. Jerold smirked, a quick twist of his expressive face, and swung himself into the truck without hesitation. Walther watched him tap the first box with an odd grin on his face. Finally Walther gave in to the curiosity that was eating at him since they slid the first all too heavy box into the truck.
"Okay Jerold what's in them?" And exactly how was it going to help them? Jerold didn't answer merely fished out a set of keys, very old ones and put the first in the lock, it didn't work. Jerold cursed and tried the second and then the third. The lock in the metal box creaked then popped open reluctantly.
Jerold threw open the lid and flipped back the tarp. It was a full moon, that was why they'd chosen this night to go for the boxes. Walther thought distantly as he stared down into the box that gold looked a bit different under moonlight. But it still glittered in bars that were stacked around objects wrapped in even more tarps. Jerold laughed a sharp delighted bark of sound and lifted out the first object wrapped in tarp completely ignoring the gold.
"Its a little something for a rainy day." He informed Walther.
Walther looked at Jerold's face with its odd smile still in place. It was nostalgia he realized, Jerold looked like his grandfather ,when the man had looked at pictures of his dead wife. A helpless, sad fondness. It seemed so raw, Walther turned his attention back to the cases.
The cases weren't entirely filled with gold, they would have been too damn heavy to lift, but the jewels were far lighter. Walther looked up from the handful of rubies to find Jerold sitting on the edge of the trucks tailgate his gloved fingers slowly trailing across the long wrapped object lying across his lap.
"What is it?" He asked not sure if his heart could take the shock if it was more valuables. There had to be at least a million dollars in this truck. Jerold's eyes flickered to him and then back to the package in his lap as if he couldn't bear to look away. Slowly he flipped away the tarp and the cloth underneath. Like gold, old steel looked different in moonlight. There were at least two maybe three swords there.
"Are those Prussian?" Walther asked in a low voice, he'd seen something like the top sword on the wall of his grandfather's house. A man who had given many a lecture on Prussian virtues and the lack thereof.
"Yeah, family heirlooms you could say. Heh" Jerold ran a finger across the ornate pommel of one of the blades. Family, Jerold never said anything but Walther was sure he had someone over that Wall.
"What do you want to do with this Jerold?" Walther asked holding out a few thousand dollars in rubies in his palm. Jerold's eyes shifted back up from the swords to look at him. There was no nostalgia there now, his eyes were as cold as the collection of steel in his lap.
"You know I ain't a patient man Walther, I've waited long enough, everyone has." Prussia picked up one of the rubies and held it up to the moonlight. The moon's light was soft and cool but the ruby refracted and still seemed to catch fire.
"This is money to set the world on fire Walther. It might take a generation, it probably will, but we're going to burn that bastard Ivan's house to the ground."