Author note: As there seems to be some confusion:
This is a completed story being uploaded to FFN one chapter at a time.
There are 20 chapters in total.
We are editing the original version of the story for typos, grammar, word choice, clarification of small things here and there, and fixing continuity issues.
We are currently posting one edited chapter approx. every three days (usually in the early evening).
The frustration of a single thought pervaded the very essence of his being: 'I should have been with them.'
Canada suppressed a hiss as his phone rang again, jabbing the sleep button with his thumb as he stared past the police barricade. He didn't care what his boss wanted - he wasn't leaving the city until he knew England and France were safe.
"Sir, if you don't walk away right now, I will have to arrest you!"
Pressing his lips together, Canada shoved his phone into his pocket and reached out to drag Prussia away from the barricade.
"Come on." His voice was clipped as he yanked at the other man's arm.
Muffling a curse, Prussia jerked his arm free and stalked away from the weary-eyed police officer. Canada fell in step next to him, grabbing hold of his arm once more to steer him further from the barricades.
"They're just standing there," Prussia snarled. "Some awful scheisse is happening and West is trapped in there without me or my overwhelming awesomeness!"
"Anything we could do from here would be useless," Canada responded sharply, "especially with all the officials running around." He glanced over his shoulder at the barricades where the officer continued to direct gawkers back and away.
As he and Prussia rounded the block, his phone rang again, turning an otherwise delightful jangle into an unceasing annoyance. Canada hissed and yanked the device out, determined to put an end to the calls once and for all.
"Hello?" he answered softly, then promptly began berating himself for his complete inability to be anything other than polite.
The voice on the other end - was NOT his boss.
"Your military record is fucking impressive," a high pitched voice stated. "My friend is stuck inside with these assholes. Want to help me get him out?"
The plan had come together nicely as far as Alfred was concerned. He, Jen, and Seborga all had military experience and, once they got their hands on some weapons, would lead the charge to retake control of the newsroom and free the hostages. From there, they could get information on where the personifications had been taken and make a plan to rescue them. Now if he could just convince the micronations that weren't actively involved of his, and the plan's, legitimacy, things would be perfect.
"So let me get this straight," Sealand began authoritatively, "you took information from the terrorist's mind?"
Knowing that he had no choice but to explain, America took a deep breath and tried to explain in a way that didn't sound crazy . . . or like it was something straight out of a comic book. "Because that particular terrorist is an American citizen, I have an interesting, I guess you could say close, connection to him. I've always had the ability to sense my citizens, and if I focus, I can often hear, or read, their thoughts. It's like an energy, constantly pulsing around me, something that I can get wrapped up and lost in. Sometimes I'm sensing the thoughts of my citizens I don't even realize it, well mostly."
Based on the looks he was getting, the "not crazy" part of this didn't appear to be working out so well.
Wy piped up, "And that's just ok, for you to invade the mind of one of your citizens?" She stared at him with incredulous eyes.
Alfred sighed deeply. "No. It's not. I lost my temper. Look, this isn't something I do all the time . . ." words evaded him. "I mean, you're nations, sort of, surely you must know what I mean. Surely you must feel your citizens too." He looked searchingly at the micronations around him, hoping desperately that this wasn't some phenomenon unique to him. It had always just been a part of him.
Finally, Seborga spoke up, "I, I don't know that I've ever been able to read the mind of a citizen, or if I could do it if I tried, but I do feel them, or something anyway. I do know that I feel something, like the essence of what makes me Seborga, and I know that essence is tied to overall well-being of my town, my home. So yes, I get it."
Seborga looked over at Sealand and the others, "I think, I think he's telling the truth, and I think we have to do this. What other choice do we have?"
"But what about you? Are you sure you'll be okay, Seborga?" Kugelmugel pleaded, clutching the older micronation's shirt.
Seborga flashed him a reassuring grin. "I know I look young, but I did work with the Italian resistance during World War II, you know."
Alfred laid a reassuring hand on the Austrian micronation's shoulder. "I wouldn't let him come if I didn't think he could handle himself," he said in a calm voice. "Ideally," he added, "I wouldn't want any of you guys to do something like this but this is a crisis. We need to retake the newsroom and free the hostages. We need to find the other personifications," he paused for a moment to reflect on that word, that concept, "we need to find the others and free them."
He took a moment to glare down at his limp and broken-spirited captive lying still on the ground.
"These guys knew what they were getting into and we have to assume the others won't be able to escape." Alfred sighed. "And that means anyone who can help needs to step up and do so."
Sealand and America locked eyes, America searching for final approval, agreement to move forward with the plan. It was clear that Sealand's opinion mattered when it came to the other micronations, and America respected him for trying to protect his friends.
"America is right," Sealand said decisively, "if we can help, we must. It's our duty."
"We're not helping," Wy mumbled. "We're not doing anything." Every bit of her appearance seemed to wilt, from the perky pink flower to her downcast eyes and dejected body language.
Jen knelt down and grasped Wy's shoulders giving her a fierce look.
"You, Sealand, Kugelmugel, and Molossia ARE helping," she insisted. "You will be ensuring that our prisoner doesn't escape or raise an alarm. You are keeping our temporary base of operations out of enemy hands. And you are our ONLY source of intelligence about the personifications. You and the others have knowledge and insights that Amer . . . Alfred and I don't have."
"Rule one of military operations," Alfred added as he looked over at the pair, "is alway protect home base. Second rule, right on the heels of one, always protect your intelligence assets."
Sealand hurried to Wy's side and took her hand. He gave Jen a determine look. "We will have NO trouble holding down the fort!" he proclaimed. "I AM a military fort - this is literally the reason I exist. And with my leadership, we won't fail!"
Wy huffed in mock annoyance at Sealand's dictatorial style while silently squeezing his hand. His constant bravado was usually incredibly irritating but just this once, it was doing a good job of making her feel better.
Alfred watched as Jen rose, murmuring a few more comforting comments to the small micronations. With everyone on the same page and (mostly) in agreement, he glanced down at Kugelmugel and nudged him towards Sealand.
The purple-clad micronation gave him an anxious look and darted over to the pair and took Wy's other hand in his own.
"I could still come with you," Molossia whispered from behind him.
Alfred turned and smiled, shaking his head. "I need you here," he replied in a soft voice, "and it's not because of any lack of skill or experience." Tilting his head towards the cluster of micronations, he continued, "I need to know that Sealand and the others aren't overpowered, that they have someone here that will keep a level head and can get them out if the plan goes south."
"Protect them, no matter what."
"See, I don't even have to say it, you just know. Perfect man for the job." Alfred reached out and clapped him on the shoulder briefly before turning to Jen and Seborga. "Alright, let's get this show on the road. I'm sick of letting these scumbags walk around like free men. Plus, we've got people to save."
Jen and Seborga nodded grimly. After casting one last look over the small micronations, the trio turned and left.
"And you are sure we can trust this mystery man?" Prussia demanded as he and Canada continued their hurried walk to the gun store they'd located nearby.
"The contact was solid. He knew who we were and what we could do. Besides, he's the only one who is willing to help us." Canada gave Prussia a grim look. "If we want to help finish this, this is how we do it. It's the only way."
"If this is a complete and utter failure, I am certain West will come through and fix it in the end." Prussia's eyes roved from side to side as they moved and soon spotted their destination in a plain stone building.
The shop owner's eyes widened in surprise when his two newest customers came bursting through the door.
"We need guns now," Prussia demanded.
"I'm sorry sir, but we have very clear state policies and procedures to follow. There are forms to fill out and a background check to run. It will take a minimum of 45 minutes before you'll be walking out of here."
Despite his sincerely apologetic tone, the shopkeeper watched as the man who stood before him turned red in the face, his face contorting into a determined scowl fit to wilt the most dazzling daisies.
"We are international dignitaries of the highest order, and we are directly connected to the incident you see playing out on that puny box you call a television in the corner. So, you will do exactly as we say or the world will know that you stood by and did nothing. They will know you were too much of a coward, a disgrace to the cowboy spirit you pride yourself in, to buck your own laws to help save those people."
Prussia watched shocked as his fierceness and sheer amount awesome did not overwhelm the human in front of him as the shop owner's face set in hard lines.
"Now look here, ain't nobody ever called me a coward in my life. This is my shop. I will run it how I see fit. I have never turned away someone in need. Now, if you are who you say you are then you damn well better show me some ID or get the hell out of my shop!"
Canada felt maybe it was time he intervened in this encounter. "Of course, we'd be happy to show you our ID sir," he responded as he pulled out his wallet and handed it over. Prussia followed his example grudgingly.
"Well, it seems that you are who you say you are," replied the shop owner, slightly surprised before settling into business mode. "So, why don't you tell me now what you need."
"You mean, you're actually going to help us?" Canada couldn't help his own surprise at this.
"Of course he is," Prussia butted in, "I knew from the moment I saw him he was a man of character and strength." He turned his attention to the owner, "You passed my test well."
Turning another stern look on Prussia the owner growled, "Let me tell you something . . . we invented the word cowboy. There isn't a soul on this planet that knows better than a Texan what that word means, certainly not some foreigner like you. The truth is I don't like you very much. So, why don't you shut that yap of yours while I help your friend here.
"Now you remember this, and you remember it well: Never, ever, insult a Texan, never question a Texan's commitment to helping others, and never, NEVER, our ability - our willingness - to buck the system. This is THE Lone Star State and acting independently of anyone and anything against whoever would stand in our way in order to do what's right is the only thing we know how to do!" He took a moment to take in Prussia's dumbfounded expression before he turned back to Canada.
"You can help those people trapped in that buildin' with those terrorist scum?"
"Yes sir, we can. We are well trained and highly invested. Some of our own are in there and we will get them back." Though his words were soft, they were firm, full of conviction.
"Alright, so I ask again, what can I do for ya?"
"2 AR-15s with a 6 Power ACOG scope? And suppressors to match? And if you can make them easy carries that would be helpful."
"Now you're speaking my language."
Author Note: We added several lines here that helped clarify some of Alfred's actions in the previous chapters and how the other reacted to it. Beyond that, we cleaned up several other lines and descriptors.