Starting off with a small thing that a friend pointed out. When Russia said ["We still have to actually rescue America, Ludwig,"] it wasn't a typo. In this fic the human names are sort of a sign of friendliness between the nations so even though someone like Germany would want to stress that they're allies, Russia and America still don't have that kind of relationship so they're still 'Russia' and 'America' to each other.
Also, I'd like to point out this White House isn't going to be too accurate. I'm using the format presented in the game. Sorry :P
But I hope you enjoy this chapter anyways! :D
Canada
Once everyone was ready and dusted off the eight of us took the moment to gather our thoughts again, and stop chuckling at the memories of Russia and Germany's attempts to get through the small square.
We were in some kind of private office. The carpet was red and blanketed in paper and books hurled to floor without any notion of tidiness. I spotted an empty bottle leaning against a file/book case so it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine someone trying to get through quite a bit of work here. Two wooden clocks hanging from the wall ticked in unison and filled the silence with their metronomic noise alongside a large map of the USA that marked all the capitals and state lines. Canada and Mexico were as blank as the sea around it on that map but instead Hawaii and Alaska appeared in the south and north of the map respectively.
"We have to be careful. President Harris has amped up the security," South warned. His face was still covered in plasters from Italy's first-aid but the American's face was set in caution. He was more aware of the problems here than we were so I trusted his instinct.
"That means it's likely the next two floors up will be locked," I informed the others. I probably knew more about the White House than everybody but South, obviously, so hopefully we could avoid capture.
"Then where would we get the keys?" France asked but I confessed that I didn't know. It was the sad fact that none of them had ever really expected to be breaking into the White House under these circumstances.
"Don't forget to be careful. We know what we're dealing and we don't want history to repeat itself," Germany said. He began to walk forwards towards the door. There was no threat in the immediate area but despite this I noticed that he'd already reduced the noise his large boots made.
France walked alongside me at the front of our little pack. "Don't worry, Ludwig. We all know what we're doing."
I'd reached the door so I creaked it open, hoping to get a peek of what was waiting for us outside. I looked around and saw a small carpeted hall with a four other doors but then I made eye contact with the guard standing stiffly next to a flower vase.
We were both statues for a moment before we both unfroze spectacularly. His mouth widened, presumably to call for back-up or alert others about the trespassers, but unfortunately for him my panic was faster.
My momentum pushed the door all the way open which made room for me as I sped forwards. I racked my brain for safe ways to knock someone out but because I only had about a second to decide I didn't choose to best option. France slammed the door shut again to hide him and the others from being caught along with me. My arm flew out as I darted behind the guard and I wrapped my arm under his jaw line in a quick sleeper hold, careful not to cut off his windpipe as I did so. I held him there for a few struggling moments but thankfully it didn't take long for him to faint but I still felt under attack even after I eased him to the floor.
My eyes felt wide as I faced the office's door. "Francis? C'est sûr." I remembered the others, "It's safe, guys."
France stepped out into the hall cautiously before noticing the unconscious guard and exhaling in relief. "Sacré bleu..."
Germany rubbed the bridge his nose in exasperation. "That was what I consider the opposite to careful..." He looked the guard up and down then gave me a somewhat approving look. "But you dealt with him quickly. Well done, Matthew."
"He won't be out for long. What do we do with him?" I asked, glancing down anxiously.
Russia held the office's door open for us to see back inside. "This room happens to be empty."
I looked between Germany and England, searching for their take on the matter. They had a brief silent conversation out of exchanging glances but it ended with England shrugging neutrally.
"Seems like the best idea. If we can't rely on him being out for long then hiding him seems to be the way to go for now. We can't afford to have him report us to Harris after all, especially since the point is to be covert."
The decision seemed to be made so I crouched down and brought the limp guard upright like I was supporting someone with a bad leg. South came and helped me pick the guard up. We were about to escort him into the office but then I noticed something. We'd moved his black jacket as we picked him up so now the silver key was no longer hidden from view. It was small but the small white string of woven metal tying it to his inner pocket gave it an air of importance.
I shifted so I was supporting with only one arm and reached for the key with my free. With a small tug the key undetached and sat peacefully in my clenched hand. I then continued and helped help lay him down on the red carpet of the office, trying to avoid the bottles, books and paperwork. Once the two of us were happy he wasn't more hurt than he needed to be we rushed out and slammed the door behind, aware of the unknown timer counting down on how long he'd stay out for.
We darted back out into the hall but South kept his hand gripped on the handle a while after the both of us had left the room. He scanned our expressions, asking for advice on what to do next.
"I mean, we can't just leave him. The door doesn't lock from the outside or the inside."
"We could…wedge something between the door and wall so it would stick," Japan suggested but he didn't look too confident at his own idea.
"Hmmm," France mused disappointedly. "And pushing something in front of the door wouldn't either. It would be a visible as a fly in milk*.
We all tried coming up with an answer but it didn't seem like any of us could come up with anything better. My forehead creased in frustration. This was far too short of a hurdle to be tripping over, especially at the beginning. I didn't America to stay here for much longer but it definitely wouldn't be easy if it went on like this.
Russia shrugged nonchalantly. "If we have no other options..." He didn't need or try to finish his sentence since his actions gave us all the context we'd need.
He strolled forwards and gestured for South to let go of the handle, which he did albeit hesitantly. Russia wrapped both his hands around the hand and tugged it in his direction. The bending metal and splintering wood made it sound like a very creaky door amplified by about ten times its volume. Russia had moved it partially off its hinges but acted as if it had been no different than pulling on a piece of string.
He let go and looked back to us. "Now it's misaligned. The door shouldn't move but he won't be trapped in there."
No matter how many times I saw it I was always surprised at the power Russia and America had. The rest of us were about as strong as an average person, maybe stronger, but when it came to those two it was always at least a bit unbelievable.
But I quickly forced myself back into serious mode. My eyes hardened in determination. "Thank you, Ivan. Now we can get going." I held out my hand and presented the key I'd taken from guard. "I'm pretty sure it unlocks the second floor."
"What? Where'd you find that?" Italy asked.
"The guard had it on him," I replied simply. I started to walk again, heading towards the exit, and the others followed me.
I breathed deeply to prepare myself then scanned the hall briefly. There were two more men guarding this hall, standing diligently like watchtowers or black-clad statues. I wanted to avoid any more conflict if I could. I would fight an army to save my brother but in all honesty I knew things would be infinitely more difficult if it ever came to that. Like England said, we needed to be as stealthy as possible.
I edged a foot closer to the threshold, attempting to get as close to the ajar door I'd spotted as possible without attracting attention from either of the guards. The nearest man turned his head to check on the other guard's condition and I made my move.
I sprinted to the door, attempting as much silence as I could under the circumstances, and ran into a bedroom. I'd walked through America's maze, made my way into the White House and knocked out a guard but just that small moment made my body light up like I'd suddenly changed places with a horror movie protagonist and was already feeling the chills. With the tiny act of running past the guards I'd cemented the fact to myself that I was an unwelcome guest in the White House, something that had never been the case as long as America was there. I was fighting America for my brother's freedom.
Not for long though. I'd make sure of it.
*French saying like "stick out like a sore thumb"
Even though it's a bit of an odd numbered chapter to do so (pun intended) I'd like to do some of the thank yous. I just love all of you and how nice you are to me!
Massive thank you and hug to:
dancergeek22, Astrarea, Ariaprincess, Abc, NoNumbersInMyUsername
AFanGirlof5sos, Adorablycheeky2211, Treebrooke, animestorylover1621, eric12377
Autobot StormBreaker, Don't Hit Cas, Insanity21, NekoraNeko709, Oceantears2, RoseyNote, Yorozuya Gin-Chan, silverheartlugia2000, sunsetonmars, yonezuu
and of course, the creator: 1captain obvious!
To the 21 amazing people and all the other amazing people I can't name, Please know I appreciate all of you so much! :D
