They're goin' in.

Warning: Angst, weapons, OCs.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I have fun manipulating their characters, though

Under the Underground

They sneaked to the mouth of the tunnel in pairs, eyes peeled for any scouts that might be on watch nearby. Eventually, they all made it to the tunnel without trouble, and they promptly overturned their canteens to wash away the evidence of the guards' deaths left on the floor. It wasn't a perfect job, but it would give them some time.

The guards were right—the tunnel was so black they barely had to travel down it for a minute before they could no longer see their own hands in front of their faces. They had stolen the night-vision glasses from the guards before sinking them and Red had the pair they had given her before they had been killed, but they could locate no more. It was decided that Red, being their guide, would keep hers and that two others most capable of defense would take the other two. Ludwig tried to volunteer, but he was excluded on part of his grief. Ivan had done enough for that day as it was. Alfred and Yao received the glasses, and they were placed at intervals among a line of blind companions headed by Red, one hand on the person in front of them, the other on their weapons. They resembled one huge, bumbling millipede.

But they didn't nearly move as gracefully as one. Despite three of them having night-vision and two more or less guiding those in front of them, there was plenty of tripping, stumbling, hitting walls, and treading of other's heels. At one point Matthew was so on edge from every drip or echo in the tunnel that he stepped on Arthur's shoe and took it clean off. He was muttering a frantic string of 'sorry's while the whole chain was forced to stop and wait for the Briton to get his shoe back on (which was no easy feat with his burned hands) when the sound of heels clicking off the floor a little further away made them all stiffen and go flat against the curved wall.

"Replacements," Red hissed and the message went down the line. "Kill them. No guns. Don't let them get away."

With that, their hands went to their knives (or in Kiku's case his katana) or just balled into fists at the ready. As the people got closer, they began to hear voices. There were only two. It wouldn't be hard to subdue them.

The pair came into view (well, to those who had night-vision) and stopped suddenly. Everyone tensed, legs poised to lunge. Then a whisper was carried down the tunnel to reach their ears. "What bird flies?"

"The eagle and its brood," Red whispered back.

At this, the two figures regarded them for a few more tense moments before they turned and walked back down the tunnel.

"What was that all about?" Alfred asked.

When the message reached Red, the girl replied, "Code. Those two are part of my squad. They'll deter anyone coming up the tunnel until we get to our destination."

"Where's that?"

"You'll see."

They picked up their pace and, having grown used to the dark and the movements of those in front of them, made considerably quicker progress than before. So far, no one had managed to slip off the raised platform they were traveling on, one of two to either side of a channel whose former job was to guide waste through the tunnel, but Francis came close. Even pressed against the dank walls of concrete that curved around them which had been devoid of sewage for nigh on a year wasn't without certain foul smells. The Frenchman would relive that moment of 'almost' in his nightmares, he was sure.

They'd been walking for fifteen minutes in pure blackness before they saw any kind of light. If Arthur was any normal person who'd decided on a whim (or under orders) to search the tunnel, he would definitely have given up far before fifteen minutes. Having any kind of lighting near the beginning of the tunnel would have been a big tip-off to what activities might be going on down below the district. So, this Organization wasn't completely unintelligent.

Lights began to appear along the wall, powered by a wire that continued like a gray snake twisting down the tunnel. It took them all a minute to figure out they no longer needed to hold onto each other and for Alfred and Yao to take their night-vision glasses off. Alfred's own were folded on the collar of his jacket, the frames bent and lenses scratched severely.

"Um… what now?" he asked. They were at a crossroads. The tunnel continued straight down, connected by a bridge over the channel below, and there were two smaller ones leading off to the left and right. They could hear voices, though faint, but it was hard to tell where they were coming from with all the echoes mingling at the joining of the tunnels.

It didn't take Red long. "This way." And she took off to the left, the others following.

They ran for another five minutes, the voices growing louder the more they ran. Feliciano started to get nervous, if he wasn't already. He chewed his lip for a while before saying, "Ve… um, when are we…?"

"Stop," Red said, cutting the Italian off, throwing out her arm. The movement was so sudden that Alfred nearly ran into the outstretched limb. Red pointed to the wall, and grabbed the handle to a door they all hadn't noticed was there in their angst. She turned it and quietly pulled it open, motioning for them all to go inside while keeping watch for unwanted eyes.

It was a maintenance room, and a cramped one at that. They all just barely stuffed themselves inside before Red stepped in (more like wriggled in) and shut the door.

"Ugh… uh, there should be a… erg, a-a table somewhere."

"Um, ja…"

"Reach under it and feel for a button in the top right corner."

Ludwig did so, though he had to stretch himself far (and he was pretty certain he'd given Matthew an unintentional view of his ass). "Does it… um, feel like a piece of gum?" Please don't say no… Like he needed anymore on his plate at this point.

"Yup, that would be the one."

He pushed it and there was a sudden clicking sound from a few feet away.

"Whoa, what the hell was that?" Arthur was looking down at his feet and wondering whether he should move or not. "Something moved under the floor…"

"That would be the lock," Red confirmed before shoving her way to Arthur and saying, "Now, none of you move." She tapped the floor with the toe of her shoe and the Briton raised his eyebrows at the familiar rhythm.

"'The Farmer in the Dell'?"

Red shrugged. "Kinda sapped of creativity, if you can imagine." Finishing up, she nudged him a bit. "You might wanna step back."

There wasn't room to step much of anywhere in any direction, but Arthur managed to wedge himself between Kiku and Francis (the latter not minding very much at all). Not a second later, and the sound of a latch turning just below them met their ears. They began to see distinctive lines trace themselves into the concrete floor, growing longer until they perceived a door opening at their feet. Francis leaned in to examine further, nearly knocking Arthur off his feet and down into the opening. The Briton was forced to grab onto Francis's shirt, steadying himself with a relieved huff only to see Francis leering like his typical froggy self. Arthur gave a derisive snort despite his face having broken out into a bloom of red.

"All right, jump in," Red told them, and they all peered down into the dark hole with apprehension. Ivan hadn't liked being in the regular sewer tunnel, but going into a smaller tunnel…

"You first amour~" Francis muttered before shoving Arthur in.

The Briton scrabbled and very nearly twisted himself in a way that had his limbs seriously compromised as he fell. But he managed to somehow land on his feet, albeit a bit ungracefully. He cleared his throat and brushed off his jacket, even though it was already stained and mutilated beyond all measure. He glared up at Francis from his place about three feet down. "How courteous of you, frog. Now get your arse down here so I can kick it over your head."

Francis laughed but when he caught the unwavering expression on Arthur's face he smiled meekly and said, "Uh, maybe someone else, oui?" And he offered up Kiku.

Everyone made it through the door more or less without difficulty, though Ivan's wince wasn't altogether inconspicuous and neither was the hand that immediately flew to his injured side shortly after landing.

Once everyone was gathered (and Arthur had tugged Francis's ear a few good times), Red turned and addressed the empty tunnel. "Okay, guys, it's just me and a few friends."

A switch must have been flipped, because the whole tunnel lit up. It was narrow and riddled with doors in the straight-edged walls, overall completely different from what they had seen running through the unused sewers. But that wasn't what concerned them most. It was the multiple figures lighting up under the fluorescent glow, spaced evenly all the way down the hall. The closest to them, a rather tall black man with cornrows, lowered his muscled arms to disarm his pistol with a click.

"Goddamn," he huffed, shaking his head. "Thought them Organization loons finally figured us out." He gave a smile then, his teeth remarkably white. "I hate that fucking door, man."

"Couldn't afford to circle around to get to the other one," Red replied, walking down the hall with obvious relief. "Any word from above, Evans?"

"Try below," Evans said, eyes studying every inch of the newcomers that had hesitated to follow Red further into the hall. "As in who the fuck are these guys?"

"The brood."

Evans wrinkled his nose, not once taking his eyes off the strangers. "Brood?"

"Yeah, Mission Gather the Flock. It's done. I got 'em."

Evans squinted in confusion for a few moments before his eyes widened, as if he now only just recognized them. "The mission… oh. Well, shit, it's been so long I damn near forgot." He 'hmm'ed as he continued to study the nine nations standing before him. "So… you got everyone?"

"Yup," came Red's muffled reply from around a corner, lips popping on the 'p.'

"Where's your dad, then?"

"Right in front of you."

"Huh?" Evans' face scrunched up. "What? I don't see no old man in here, c'mon."

"He isn't old," Red told him. "What, did you think I was lying about the whole state-and-nation personification thing? He's barely four-hundred years old. That's young compared to most nations. Go for one of the younger ones."

"Hmm… you mean the dumb-looking jock with the glasses?"

"That would be him."

"Hey, fuck you, man!" Alfred glared and appeared as if he'd like to drive his fist into Evan's jaw. He quite honestly had lost all semblance of patience by now.

"Oh, yeah," Evans laughed. "He's it, all right. And who would all the rest of you be?"

"Evans," Red scolded. "It's rude to question guests at the doorstep. Bring them in and then we can talk."

"Sure thing, Red."

They were led by Evans down the hall, uneasy at all the staring eyes they walked past. They filed into the room at the back and stood there awkwardly. It was a small, cramped room, much like the room they'd been in above. There was a wobbly table and two worn chairs, one of which was already occupied by an unmasked Red. Somehow the rest of her squad had managed to squeeze themselves into the tight space while the state lit up.

Evans shook his head and fanned at the smoke that was billowing toward him. "Ever consider the fact that we might all suffocate one time when you smoke in here?"

Red rolled her eyes and exhaled another stream deliberately in Evan's direction. "Can it. I've had a long day. You don't know how difficult it is to move these guys without making enough noise to outdo a herd of wildebeest."

"Well, that's your problem…" Evans grumbled before another man, this one black-haired with a wiry build, said, "So, that was the cause of all those mines blowing up. For a second I thought we were being invaded."

Red snorted and smoke curled out of her nostrils. "Yeah, right. Like the Overlord wouldn't know about that."

"So he doesn't know about this?" the man continued to press.

Red tapped her ashes into the tray on the table. "I didn't say that. I'm certain the Overlord knows about whatever happens within the borders of the district. Getting these guys in is no exception. Our best bet is to continue on like before and hope the Overlord doesn't find out about this bunker or their identities."

"And who would 'these guys' be?" Evans snarked.

Red took another drag and fiddled with the strap of her gas mask. "Go on, then. Introduce yourselves. I trained my squad not to bite."

"Well," Alfred began. "Guess everyone already knows who I am, but… yeah, we're the real deal, no joke."

"Oh, really?" A man with messy brown hair and a wisp of a mustache (it appeared as if he had been trying to grow one for some time) shouldered his way to Alfred, arms crossed, and continued, "All right, how about this? In 1804 Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton participated in an illegal duel. They both shot at each other, who won? (1)"

Alfred gave him an exasperated look. "Um… you got a better question?"

The man reddened but persisted, "Just answer it."

"It's a trick question."

"No, it's not. You just have to say—"

"For one thing, it wasn't illegal," Alfred cut him off, patience wearing. "The whole reason they trekked all the way to Jersey was because duels were not yet outlawed there, but they were in New York, which is where they originally came from. And they both didn't shoot at each other, only Burr shot at Hamilton. Hamilton thought they shared the same mindset that they'd both proven themselves honorable enough to arrive at the site and so didn't have to go through with the duel. So he deliberately missed and shot over Burr's head. A mistake on Hamilton's part, seeing how Burr shot him anyway, but what can ya do?"

The man's face fell a little, but the arrogance was still there. "You didn't answer the question."

"Uh, I can't," Alfred stressed as if he was talking to a child, which seemed completely comical to Arthur. "It wasn't a proper duel. One opponent didn't commit himself to it, so, technically speaking, nobody won."

The man blinked at him for a few moments, not knowing what to make of him. Then he broke out in a smile. "All right, all right, I'm convinced. I mean, you look fresh out of HS, and everyone in my uni honors class failed that one on the first shot."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Moving on, I'm—"

"England," Evans finished.

Arthur frowned. "Er—"

"Red rants about you a lot," Evan's answered. "And you sound kinda snooty."

Arthur looked scandalized. "I beg your pard—"

"Oh, don't mind him. He is such a tightass sometimes," Francis interrupted, throwing Arthur an 'I would know' smirk that the Briton scoffed at. "I am France."

"We know," everyone said at once.

Before Francis could ask, Evans said, "Rants about you a lot, too."

Ivan opened his mouth, but he barely got a word out before he was identified as well. It was the same with Yao and practically everyone until they reached Matthew.

"Um…" Evans trailed off. "Don't think I've ever heard talk of you before, man."

Matthew frowned and gave them all a hopeless look. "I'm Canada." When they all continued to stand and stare in confusion, he elaborated, "Above America? Second biggest country in the world?"

"Ah—oh yeah!" Evans nodded in recognition, and Matthew perked up. "Got a cousin up there. Went for the pot. Says it's a nice place whenever he can get to a phone."

Matthew sighed and facepalmed. "Why do I even try…?"

"Um." Alfred buffeted the smoke away with his hand, eyes watering and hacking excessively (perhaps melodramatically). "Ya wanna put that thing out… sweetie?"

Red fixed him with a displeased glare and stubbed out her smoke. "All right, that took longer than I thought it would—"

Arthur's brows came together. "Er, I'm not entirely sure that's a logical state—"

"—so," Red continued, glaring. "I'm just gonna skim over names here. You already know who I am, and if I hear one comment on virginity I'll make sure the rest of your life is devoted to it." She stared pointedly at Francis, who quickly gave a meek smile while inconspicuously trailing a hand down to shield his crotch from eyes that meant to vaporize it. "Aside from myself, you got Andre Evans, Shawn Blalock"—the young college grad raised a hand in an amiable wave, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes a bit—"and Bernard Cruz," the black-haired man nodded to them respectably. "Danny Moss and Todd Karkas would be here, but it seems they've gone out drinking." She looked pointedly at Evans.

The man scratched the back of his neck apologetically. "Yeah, well, they never listen to me anyway."

Red rolled her eyes and huffed. "Twenty-four hour lockout sufficient enough, you think?"

"You could cut holes in their uniforms."

"Hm, good idea." Then she added with a smile, "Learn from experience?"

Evans gave a scoff like it didn't bother him, but he still muttered, "Not like I deserved it anyway. Just a few beers…"

"So!" Red exclaimed, standing and swinging her gas mask by the tips of her fingers. "I could tell you our plans for the coup now, but I don't think you would appreciate it after all the hell you've been through. Or so I've heard. And we couldn't have old Moss and Karkas missing out on a briefing that is no doubt well-needed on their parts…" She shook her head and silently brooded for a moment before shrugging and saying, "Welp, get settled in, then. There's enough room for all of you, though I can't say the same for the beds. Got about two rooms you can all share, plus a shower and bath if you need one."

"Bath?" Yao said aloud without realizing it. He reddened a bit as several pairs of eyes fell on him.

Red cocked her head to one side, shoulders going up again. "For stress," she answered simply before heading down the hall. The sound of a door shutting further down announced her official departure.

No translations

References:

1. Wow, it's been a long time since I did one of these. So, the story is pretty straightforward and mostly explained in the reading, but I'll just include some extra stuff for good measure. Alexander Hamilton is a pretty prominent figure in American history, and since back then him and a handful of other important politicians held multiple positions in the government, I would suggest looking him up because he has too many titles for me to write about (though he is commonly referred to as the founder of the long-dead Federalist Party). Anyway, Aaron Burr (third vp of the U.S. at the time) and Hamilton didn't like each other very much for various political and social reasons, and shit reached a head when Hamilton insulted Burr during his electoral campaign. After the duel, Hamilton was rowed back to NY where he had just enough time to say goodbye to his wife before he died. Burr was charged with murder in both NY and NJ. He fled to SC and all charges were eventually dropped against him, still retaining his position as vp. Ah, men. Their methods in problem solving have never changed.

A Word From the Writer: Whoop, whoop, more OCs! All right, I'll list their appearances with their names for reference:

Andre Evans: Red's 'lieutenant.' Black, cornrows, well built, responsible, level-headed, experienced.

Shawn Blalock: Messy brown hair (he coined the term 'rat's nest'), wispy mustache (like a smudge of dirt on his upper lip, really), lean, typical college kid, easy going, easy to talk to, follows orders well (has learned to, at least).

Bernard Cruz: Latino, with short black hair and wiry build, agile, secretive, withdrawn, overly serious at times.

Todd Karkas and Danny Moss will be described later, but they're kind of like the insufferable troublemakers whose skills are needed too much to get rid of.

Lol, I suck at pulling names out of my ass. Normally coming up with new OCs consists of me breaking out my yearbooks and flipping through them until I combine a first and last name from two different people that sounds good. My methods are mundane, but the results aren't bad. I just don't feel like thinking all that much when I can just pick some at random from a book above my desk. Have I mentioned that I'm lazy?

Anyone get the irony in Karkas's name? Anyone? ... I'm a horrible person. XD

Btw, just in case no one got Red's reference to virginity, it's an allusion to her state name.

Onward!