Capitol Punishment
Chapter 15
"What do you mean your truck is missing?" England was close to yelling.
"What do I mean—it means the truck isn't fucking here!" America was yelling, "Somebody took my truck and I think it's pretty obvious who to blame!"
The capitols must have taken the truck back into the city. England frowned. But London was definitely not driving.
"Can Washington drive?"
"How would I know? I met the kid this morning! What I wanna know is why they left and where they went, because I hate feeling this helpless." America finished in a small voice.
England needed to bring back the focus, now wasn't the time to wallow. They needed a plan to distract themselves from their own disappointment.
"Knowing the truck is missing doesn't help much, how are we going to find where they went?"
The other nation suddenly smirked, surprising England.
"Dude, if I have the technology to track his cell phone on my own phone, then I can find where my truck is. I have a GPS on it, I could use it as a tracker. Pretty nifty if you ask me." America said proudly.
"Well why didn't you say so!? Let's go find them!" They hopped in the Thunderbird, sitting on nice leather seats with a flashy interior.
"Dude it's already set up on the phone, can you tell me the address?" America asked as they pulled easily out of the garage. His car was going to fly down that road.
England squinted at the phone. "It looks like the Starbucks on Pennsylvania Ave."
America laughed. "Yup, he's definitely my capitol."
Fifteen minutes later, they walked in the doors of the nice little Starbucks. They drove fast, weaving not unlike the Harley through traffic in the sporty little thunderbird. When they arrived they inspected the truck, noting both its emptiness and that it was way past its time on the parking meter due to a couple of tickets. It was clearly parked for easy access to the Starbucks, so they walked inside to investigate.
"Woah, woah, woah, hold up there gentlemen. Wow you look just like Danny, are you guys related?" They were greeted by a cheery brunette with long flowing hair, both America and England got flashbacks of a certain Hungarian country. She whipped out a hand ready for a shake.
"My name is Rachel, I own this joint. And you are?" She said addressing them both.
America took her hand with a hearty shake. She was strong for her appearance. "I'm Alfred F. Jones and this is my friend and colleague Arthur Kirkland."
"How do you do?" England said with a hand shake of his own.
"Oh wow, an Englishman, just like the handsome man that Little Dan was with. He looked just like you too, same eyebrows and everything."
England struggled to maintain his smile. However, she did indirectly call him handsome…
"So you know Danny? I'm looking for him and Mr. King. They weren't supposed to leave without us." America came in to distract England from his thoughts.
"Oh yes, they were so cute! Drinking together by that window in the corner." She said staring proudly at the spot. America and England shared confused glances at each other, but she kept talking. "Are you cousins or something? I swear you look just like him."
"Eh, it's something like that, I guess you could say long lost relatives."
"Would you happen to know where they went?" England asked.
Rachel's face lost the smile and she looked a bit angry, and for a second the two men feared that they had done something wrong. They nearly sighed in relief when they realized that her sudden fury was directed elsewhere.
"Oh my word, you wouldn't believe it, some men in suits showed up and dragged them from their seats like common criminals. I was so upset, but I was behind the counter and couldn't ask them just what the hell they were doing with my little Dan. Of course, they probably wouldn't have heard me over the fuss that Englishman was putting up. Caused quite the ruckus." She finished with an angry huff and hands on her hips like an overworked mother.
America had to step carefully, he really didn't want to anger this woman further. She had a kitchen behind her and he's seen what Hungary can do with a simple frying pan.
"Do you know who the men in suits were?" He asked.
Rachel thought for a moment. "I've seen them in here only a couple of times, Dan the Man told me not to worry too much about the 'feds.' I can only assume that they are the Secret Service, Dan said that they follow him sometimes."
England became interested, this woman knew a lot and was quite perceptive. Maybe she knew more than she was letting on.
"Do you know who Danny is?" He asked curiously.
She looked him straight in the eyes. "I know that he's special. My grandmother told me so."
Her answer was vague, but England was satisfied. She trusted Washington wholeheartedly and almost loyally. That can be pretty hard to find.
"Now you boys better find my Danny. He's got work to do and he promised to tell me about his date with that fancy English boy."
Did that woman just call them boys? Countries over hundreds of years old? She was ordering them around like children, but she said it with an unusual glint in her eye. America and England just had a terrible moment of shock, before coming back to the present where they only could be hit with the rest of her statement. They both sputtered and bloomed a dark red, not really sure how to respond and keep their cool. She really is just like Hungary…
"We will mam. He'll be fine, I'll make sure of it." America tried to answer clearly and respectfully through his warm face. He did not want this woman's wrath if she can make him this uncomfortable in less than five minutes. Poor Washington had quite the boss and mother hen.
"Thank you, we shall be off to find them." England was now in a hurry to leave. They had a lead. And this Rachel woman was quite the hardy character and twisted his nerves in weird directions.
"Oh come back anytime dears, handsome faces like yours bring in lots of teenage girls. Especially the accents." She winked at England and waved as they left out the doors. Now that they did look about the Starbucks, it had become quite crowded…
"Do American girls like accents?" England inquired with a smirk sliding onto his face on their short walk to the car.
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"English accents?" He was practically poking America with his words.
"NOT TALKING ABOUT IT."
England had a wicked smile on his face when they once again reached the thunderbird, he wanted to poke further, but America silenced him with a glare. England settled for chortling as he opened the car door.
"Can it, let's head to Capitol Hill." America stated getting back into the car.
"Why?" England asked, "Is that where the Secret Service headquarters is?"
"No." America responded, turning on the engine.
"Then why would we go there? Where is the headquarters?"
They drove down the city street for a while before America answered.
"It's a secret."
"God Dammit America, I need to find my capitol and you need to obtain custody of yours!"
"Iggs, it's called Capitol Hill for a reason," He looked pointedly at England, "That's where congress meets, and congress is what kept him from me. And I have a feeling that our capitols would be nearby." He stared aggressively at the road and cars in front of him, hoping his telekinetic powers that he's always dreamt about would kick in so he could get to his destination faster. America wanted to see his capitol again, no matter the terms. He's only known him for an hour, but he felt that the kid had a lot to offer. Like games, comics, general love for entertainment. Maybe a love for nonexistent telekinetic powers. He could be the next American Boy besides himself. Somebody that he can call at three in the morning and explain the coolest idea for a movie or show up at the crack of dawn and take him out hunting. America was betting he would be on Capitol Hill.
"Are you sure?" England didn't like being worried about his capitol, they had been working together for far too long and been through far too much. He recalled one moment in the right before the Blitz where he lost track of London for seventeen minutes. It was the longest seventeen minutes of his life. He remembered the suffocating feeling of his throat closing up in sheer panic and that only made it harder for him to call his name over the chaotic noise. When they found London later helping civilians into the tunnels, he nearly cried in relief. He did not want a reenactment of that moment.
"Dude, I'm about ready to bust down those senate doors. I wouldn't if the chances were slim."
"This is one Fucked up day."
"Agreed."
America drove for a while until something began to bug him. He hasn't known Washington long, but he felt as if he had to protect this kid from the world. Was that normal? For him to suddenly and unconsciously decide that he should protect this kid almost selflessly?
"England? Is it normal for us to be so worried about our capitols?"
England's answer was immediate. "Abso-bloody-lootely."
"Really?"
"In fact, it's natural instinct." England suddenly seemed excited, like he was giving a lecture. "There is so much I can tell you that I could write a book about it. A capitol is an integral part of a country. A heart, if you will. If it is removed, stolen, or corrupted, chaos can spread through the veins across the land. In times of war, a captured capitol is considered a surrender, which is why it was such a problem when Paris was taken by Germany in World War Two. The Capitol may be similar to us, but they are not as strong since they can be destroyed. Since they can be destroyed, they must be protected. However, just because they aren't as strong, does not mean that they are unimportant or weak. Their presence in our work makes us stronger, as does our presence in theirs. Essentially, the government's presence in the country makes the country stronger, and vice versa. Additionally, they are great companions. Better than a cat, I assure you."
America wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. It was a pretty detailed explanation that he wished he knew two hundred years ago, but better late than never. He settled with "Wow," and continued to drive. He could see the capitol buildings by now.
They pulled up around back of Capitol Hill after America showed some fancy identification at the security checkpoints. The giant dome at the top of the building was bright in the evening sun, casting a long shadow down upon the countries as the crossed the back stone grounds. For a moment England thought that they would go in the main door beneath the giant pillars, but America pulled him aside and they continued down some stone steps not far from the building. There were some copper colored doors underneath the stone ground leading to the tunnels beneath Capitol Hill, behind them security waited to check them into the area. The chasm directly leading into the mouth of the tunnel was as big as a soccer field and made of shiny white marble, all accenting the Statue of Freedom that guarded the doors behind it.
America felt a familiar feeling of pride swell in his chest, looking upon what his people have created. They loved statues, and frankly, he did too. But he walked right past it with England following close behind. England took a cursory glance around the chasm-like room. He hasn't been to this part of Washington D.C. too often, and the architecture was a bit impressive. Of course he liked his own city better, it was an older style and he was proud of it, but the large amount of white definitely brightened the interior. He smiled to himself when he recalled that America liked things bright.
They took a few dizzying turns and some stairs before coming to a circular room with multiple tunnels going in different directions and a desk manned by a woman in the center. America was about lead them down a tunnel when something caught his eye. Or more specifically, someone. A man in a suit talking to the woman at the desk. A secret service suit.
America stalked up behind the man like a lion, aggressively turning him around and grabbing him by the collar, succeeding in lifting him several inches off the polished floor with his impressive strength. The Agent was about to retaliate, but realization filled his eyes as he saw the familiar face in front of him. The face of his country and the face that he was ordered to protect sometimes on government trips. The face that he really, really didn't want to mess with right now.
"Mr. America, Sir, please put me down."
"Tell me where the capitols are." America barked right into the man's face.
The suit opened his mouth to answer, but he seemed to change his mind before the words came out.
"That is classified information that I am not authorized to tell you." He said with a face of stone.
If the Agent's face was stone, than America's was steel. He changed his tone to deadly quiet and controlled. He doesn't use this voice often, because he usually doesn't need to. The most powerful nation on earth usually doesn't have to prove himself, but he was on top of the world for a reason. He hasn't spoken like this since September Eleventh. He used to use it a lot in the Cold War.
"I am the United States of America, there shouldn't be a single thing in this building, in this city, in this country, that I don't know about. Are you prepared to tell me that I am not at liberty of this information?"
America brought him in closer. The service agent's eyes widened. The woman at the desk turned around.
"Think of it this way. It would be unpatriotic and practically treasonous to withhold information from me."
The Agent paused, inches off the floor and dreadfully intimidated. He's been through years of training, was not new at the job, but the sharp steel of America's expression cut right through his trained walls of stone. He was an agent loyal to America. He guessed now was a good time to really show it.
"Follow me sir. They're just down the hall."
England let out a breath. America visibly relaxed and set his Secret Service Agent down. He looked at the agent with genuine gratitude in his blue eyes.
"Thank you."