CP Ch 23
The handle turned, and the door opened. In walked an average looking man, short dark hair and a face that belied his age. Maybe in his early thirties Landon thought. A few more men trailed in behind him, each carrying automatic weapons. Although, it wasn't the guns that made Landon anxious. What really unnerved Landon was the American flag bands on their arms. On their right arm, the sacred American stars and stripes was defiled by the Nazi swastika embedded in the fabric. London had hoped to leave those kinds of things in the past where they belong, the symbol now associated with human indecency and destruction. It had no place in the present except in history books and museums. Landon was terrified to see it in use once again, it made his stomach boil in hatred and vomit creep up his throat in revulsion.
Landon knew that America would be abhorred by the sacrilege, the hero in him ashamed and enraged.
On their left arm, the American flag was effectively disfigured, the blue shaped in an X and riddled with white stars. It seemed they chose to ignore the white stripes that represented the original thirteen. Landon recognized the flag of America's civil war, a symbol of Southern pride, but it means much more than that. England chose to stay out of that conflict, to let America figure that one out himself.
'Well this is problematic,' Landon thought. 'Tread carefully… don't anger the armed men.'
"Piss off," he said instead. He usually had a much better connection between his mouth and brain.
The man's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he ignored the outburst and looked towards Danny instead. Still dead to the world, head hanging limply and hardly breathing.
"What's wrong with him?" He demanded. The men behind him shifted uncomfortably.
"He passed out when we pulled up to the curb, sir. We didn't even touch 'em." One of them stated bravely.
The man huffed, looking displeased but accepting the answer without much fuss. He turned his attention to Landon, beady eyes sweeping over the capitol. Landon fought the urge to shiver from discomfort.
"The plans have changed with this one's appearance. You did well to bring him along." Perhaps that was why he was only mildly displeased. "Still, we can't do anything until Washington wakes up."
"That's the malfunction," Landon spoke up, "Is there any chance that the government shut down?"
The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. Landon bravely met his gaze.
"Perhaps. Is that connected to his condition?" The man asked.
"Perhaps." Landon answered.
The man was quiet, taking Landon's answer as confirmation. He seemed to settle on a conclusion that pleased him, his mouth settling into something similar to a greasy smile. Landon's stomach sunk. He had said one word, but he suddenly felt as if he said too much.
"Wonderful, we have a time limit." The man turned to his men, "Return when the shut down is concluded," he ordered. The men brusquely turned around to exit, yet the man himself turned back to Landon with predatory look.
"That's when we will begin. Until then, London, I have some work to do. I fear your country won't take well to your… disappearance." Then he turned around and left through the single gray door, leaving Landon in a stunned silence.
"Begin what?!" Landon yelled at the door. Unfortunately, the door couldn't answer his question.
Left alone with an unresponsive friend, Landon felt once again exhausted. The one encounter left him breathless, with one thought running through his head over and over.
They know who I am.
America and England were not having a good time. By now, their capitols had been gone for nearly twenty-five hours, and because the government run security agencies had been shut down, they only had the help of the police to track down the whereabouts of the infamous black van.
Progress was slow, even with the license plate number. They had to use streetlight cameras, investigate car transactions, and spend seven hours at a police department going through car registration (and napping) to find something remotely similar to a lead. The van apparently belonged in the middle of nowhere, the area where it should be was an empty property. The raised ranch house they found there was abandoned very recently, yet whoever owned it cared little about landscaping and house paint. The place was ragged with weeds, and there was black and green colored mold growing on the house's white molding. In the backyard, there was a cleared area for a what could have been a nice get together for a campfire but something about the damp dead feel of the air made their throats feel scratchy and get the feeling that there was nothing nice about this campfire. The shape of the firewood was a clear sign.
They stood among the burned wood, saying nothing but both feeling the desire to leave. But their desire to find their capitols was even stronger, so they were about to investigate some more when England got a phone call from his current prime minister.
"Yes, Theresa?" England answered. Then he nearly threw up, but he was a gentleman, so he willed his stomach to settle and settled the conversation.
"Yes, do keep this quiet. The public doesn't need to know yet. Propose nothing and postpone all hostile actions for as long as you can. Two days?! That's hardly enough time to decide—well, yes, but that—fine. I will be updating parliament shortly on the situation. Yes, I am investigating this matter personally, and when I return with my capitol, Parliament, you and I will be spending the day together for a talk. Good day." And with an anxious sigh, he ended the call, noticing the American plastered to his side trying to listen in.
"Alfred, we have a problem," England said with notably exhaustion, "The United Kingdom is two days from declaring war on the United States for the apparent seizing of the capitol."
America wheezed.
England was quick to put his hands up like he was placating a wounded animal. "Don't worry yet, I am right here, and I know what happened. I know this wasn't you, this wasn't Daniel. But this, by traditional standards is an act of war."
America wheezed again.
"Wait, I am not finished," England put a hand on America's shoulder, "My prime minister received word from a group of your people threatening to destroy London, which would be an active attack on me and you know my people, as lovely as they are, would not be reluctant to fight back. But for now, only my prime minister and parliament have access to the information, the public doesn't know."
"We have two days." America wheezed.
England, catching on to his train of thought, sighed sadly, "Yes, we have two days to find our boys and bring them home or the Queen gets the right to declare war. But I will be with you every step of the way. For two days. Because then I will have… to… return. America, are you crying?"
"No," America said, wiping tears from under his eyes with his sleeve. He took out a McDonalds napkin from his jean pocket and blew his nose. "Of course not, I'm not crying."
England's face wrinkled with pity, "Oh, Alfred. Come here." He wrapped America in a hug, tucking a blond head under his chin like he did back when Alfred was shorter than him, still a colony. "We'll figure this out. Together, this time."
America sniffed loudly on England's jacket, and the brit briefly despaired at the thought of snot on his coat, but he let it happen. America pulled back but left his forehead on England's chest, so he was looking down at their feet.
"Right Hand camp." America murmured.
"What?" England said, voice audibly confused.
"Right Hand camp." America reaffirmed louder. He pulled his head away from England's chest to point down at their feet where a there was a brochure for a local camp ground in Virginia.
England stared down at it, hands on America's shoulders holding him at arm's length. "What?" He said again.
America frowned, and bent down to pick it up. It was crinkled so he smoothed out the edges while England swung around to America's shoulder so he could see it too.
Reading the contents, they were quite displeased.
"This is no summer camp," America said with disgust.
England shuddered. "No, it is not. That campfire looks vaguely similar to this one. What is 'Unite the Right'?" He asked.
America shuddered next. "Hopefully, you won't have to find out. North, South, Left, Right, I am so tired of being pulled in all these directions! UNITED states, people, we are one people. WE the people. But what I think what we should do is check this camp out."
"What? Why?" England frowned.
"This line here," America pointed at it. "It says 'we are looking for some capitol change.' Sounds like a buzz word to me. Worth a try, right?"
"Even better," England said, pointing at the camp's location, "That is the general direction of where this van was last spotted on street cameras. The last police report said so."
"Perfect. We have two days and a lead." America said with a slightly maniacal grin. "'Keep calm and carry on.'"
NOTE:
Hello peeps, Lifeoflemoon here. I've noticed that some of the events occurring in this story happen at different times. Due to plot, drama, and the reason I started this work, time no longer follows dates. However, all historical information should be accurate. But from chapter 20 and on, time is relative, and this work is now a mesh of 2017 and 2018. Anything from 2019 will be for drama, not plot, and who knows what 2020 could bring. But since my plot started in 2017 when certain people were more important and now are less important, I have had to make some changes but I am going to continue as I see fit to end this work appropriately. And it will be concluded. I've read enough fanfiction to understand the disappointment and frustration of unfinished work. However, when it will be finished is another matter entirely. If I feel like this is an assignment, I will never do it. I write when it strikes me.