Disclaimer: *Ahem* HETALIA IS ALL MINE! MINE, MINE, MINE! I OWN IT! NONE OF YOU CAN DENY ME THAT RIGHT! Feh. As if. No, I don't' own APH, no matter how much I'd like to. Though Al Qaeda is mine. WOO! GO USA! DOWN WITH OSAMA!

"Are you sure, Pakistan? Absolutely positive?"

Pakistan shivered, licking his lips. His fingers were shaking so much that his nails were clicking on the walkie-talkie. "Y-Yes, America, I would not dare lie to you."

There was a moment of static, and then the voice, layered with power and intimidation, came onto the other end of the line. "You better not be lying, Pakistan, because if you are, you'll know exactly why the United States of America is one of the most feared countries in the world."

Pakistan stared at the machine. He licked his lips again, before throwing it as hard as he could at the other wall.

America grinned darkly, striding down the hall and tossing the walkie-talkie to the poor soul who had decided to be behind him. The person yelped, fingers dancing to keep the machine from hitting the ground, and ran away quickly—to avoid the wrath of the dark American still striding away from him.

America ignored him, finally stopping at a door in the corridor and typing in the password, along with showing his eyes up to the screen to prove his identity.

As America strode into the room filled with surprised military leaders and a few high ranking soldiers, he leaned against one wall and grinned darkly. "Gentlemen, Osama Bin Laden has been found."

Osama Bin Laden better watch his ass.

It all started years ago.

It was a normal World Conference—England and France were fighting again, America was watching with that stupid grin on his face eating hamburgers, Russia was sitting in a corner trying to escape Belarus's view, China was musing about the younger nations, and…

"Hey! Hey, America! Yeah, I'm talking to you, you arrogant asshole!"

America jerked his gaze up, lips still attached to his soft drink.

"Hey, hey! It's me! Al Qaeda! I'm here to declare war on you, bastard! Yeah, you want a piece of this? Huh?"

All the nations in the room swung their heads in silent shock to the door, watching a short, darkly tanned boy pointing on slender finger at America's stunned face. His posture screamed cockiness and arrogance, and he had a faux beard on his face.

Everyone paused, staring in quiet shock at the cocky little boy who had just declared war on America. They waited for someone to move, someone to react, and then… laughter.

America was laughing at the boy, though it wasn't his normal laughter. It was dark and foreboding, tinged with the lives of the dead. Tinged with the agony and pain of war.

"War? Heh, with me? Now why do you want to do that, terrorist crap?"

Al Qaeda suddenly looked very unsure, his finger lowering slightly. He'd expected an arrogant, carefree idiot who ate too much and had no brain. Someone who couldn't do anything himself, and used his power to make the people under him submit. He thought that his cause was right; that America needed to be punished.

"Um… because Papa told me to!"

America took a long slurp on his soda and swallowed, his cold blue eyes glaring down at the boy—who was going in way over his head.

"Listen, kid. You think you can take me? Fine, go for it. Burn me to the ground, beat me to submission, do whatever you think will work—but just remember when you attack, remember when you decide to kill one of my men, remember when you go to sleep at night and the shadows that dance around you play a slideshow of the dead—remember just what you are trying to do." America got up and slowly advanced on the shaking child; he would not be merciful, not to this one. "You are trying to beat down a mountain, trying to stop an avalanche, trying to quell the forces of nature. You are trying to put out a fire that has never stopped burning." America leaned into Al Qaeda's face, enjoying the fear radiating off the boy. "You are trying to pour water on the flames of Liberty, and the flames of Justice. Iam America! I defy the impossible! And you—you don't even have a land to call your own. You are a rat-tag team of mad terrorists who think they can kill my people and get away with it. I…" America whispered menacingly. "I am the one who defied all odds, who defeated those who thought they could stand against me. And you," America grinned nastily. "Are just another one of my enemies now."

With that, America left the quivering mass on the floor and started for the door.

"W-Where are you g-going, Al… America?" England gasped, trying to shake off the petrifying fear he'd felt when America had spoken.

"I am going…" America grinned. "To prepare for a war!"

"A-America, this is stupid! Let your perfectly capable soldiers take care of this!"

America frowned deeply into the phone, obviously displeased with England's reaction to what he was planning to do that day. Maybe responding with a casual, "Oh, we're going to go kill Osama Bin Laden today!" wasn't such a good idea.

"Ah, come on, Iggy! It's all right, I wanted to get rid of the bas—oh crap, there goes one of the helicopters…"

"America!"

"No, see? It missed us and everyone's getting out alright, so it's all okay!"

"America, this doesn't change the fact that it's very dangerous! You could be killed!"

"Iggy, I'm tired. I've been after this bastard for ten years!"

"Alfred, even if you take out the head-that doesn't mean it'll all go away!"

"England…" The man on the other end of the phone paused, momentarily stunned by the tone of America's voice. "England, this is my closure. I need this. He attacked me, England, and I can still hear the victims' screams as some of them jumped out of the burning buildings. I…I can't simply let that go. Someone…needs…to…pay…" There was almost a wobble in that last sentence.

England was silent, so silent that America almost believed he'd hung up. "A-All right… America. If you need to do this… I guess I can't stop you. But be careful!"

America grinned into the phone, suddenly elated (and slightly confused) by England's change of heart. "Don't you worry about a thing, England! We'll be in and out!"

As England hung up the phone, he could not disguise his fear at the sound of America's voice. I do hope this turns out okay.

Al Qaeda gasped loudly, startling the other men in the room. They turned to the personified terrorist group, trying to ask what was wrong as the boy stared at the ground in mute horror.

He felt it.

He felt it.

Osama Bin Laden… was dead.

Al Qaeda could see his last moments, too.

Two ice cold blue eyes, staring at him—both of them—from the darkness, light shining dully from the grinning face. And the last word: "Remember."

This is kind of a tribute to America, I guess. Not quite sure, though. Just popped into my head.

Anyway, you might be wondering why America even takes Al Qaeda seriously (So my sister pointed out as she edited America's epic speech). It's because he actually believes him to be a threat. Al Qaeda's already caused loads of problems before he declared war on America, and America takes him seriously, because… he sees himself in Al Qaeda. He sees a little "colony" rebelling against the home country, who isn't supposed to win. America knows that he wasn't supposed to win, but look what happened. America is now one of the most powerful countries in the world (however messed up we are).

So… enjoy!

IceEckos12