America peered over the boxes, fixing a stare at the doppelgangers that entered the warehouse. His team sat behind him, holding their breaths, watching the back of America's head. If he made a sudden, alarmed, movement, then they'd know they're screwed. If he lowered himself and sighed in relief, then they were safe.
As they waited for America's reaction, America narrowed his eyes at the doppelgangers. They were bringing in scraps of metal and pieces of who knows what. The doppelgangers tossed them in the middle of the warehouse, said a few words to each other, scanned the pile of metal and junk, and left.
Team Two relaxed as America sat back, sighing. "What were they doing just now?" Molossia asked.
"They just threw in a bunch of metal and crap." America said, scratching the back of his head. "Nothing big."
"For all we know, it could be something big." Cameroon said.
America shrugged. "Yeah, it could be." Then he sought out Canada and asked him, "Have you finished drawing the map, bro?"
Canada handed America a piece of paper with forty-nine squares roughly drawn in rows and columns of seven. America took the paper and the pencil Canada offered next and said, "Alright, let's hear it again. This is north, this is east, south, and west..." America draw a small compass rose on the paper. "Now which warehouses have weapons and which don't?"
They spent five minutes hunched over the map, pointing to the squares as America scribbled in a 'W' for 'weapons'. Two of the minutes were spent arguing whether it was warehouse number sixteen or eighteen that had weapons or not, to which America asked if they should go out and check again.
"Fine, I'll go check. If I'm right, you take off twenty percent of the debt I owe you." Mexico said to Cuba.
Cuba gave him a stunned look. "What? Wait, if I have to do that, then he has to lift the embargo." He pointed a furious finger to America.
"What? Hold up." America pointed in between the two. "Okay, if you want twenty percent off your debt to him, and you want me to lift the embargo, then what do I get?"
Cuba cocked his head thoughtfully. "A free high five?"
"Why are you even talking about deals like that?" Cameroon asked irritably as America shot Cuba a 'Seriously?' look. "Forget the deals and bets. Just go."
Mexico, Cuba, and America exchanged glances. "We'll talk later." the three said, and Mexico weaved his way out of the box fort and cautiously down the stairs.
Mexico shot a last glance back up at the box fort, waved at the countries that watched him leave, and stepped out into the sun. Though it was late spring, turning into summer, the heat wasn't too bad. Better than his house, where parts of it was all sun.
"Twenty-three...that one is twenty-two..." he murmured, dashing from one warehouse to the other. He caught himself just in time before he ran out of the shadows and in front of a doppelganger. Backing up behind a forklift, Mexico crouched down and peered around the tires.
As soon as Dark Greenland passed him, Mexico quietly tip toed out from the forklift, glanced to the side where Dark Greenland was walking away, and ran to the next warehouse.
A few more steps... Mexico thought. Made it!
He crouched down again and sneaked a peek back. Pleased that he wasn't spotted or heard by Dark Greenland, he stood back up and dusted the dirt from his pants.
Mexico froze when he noticed a shadow looming over him on the ground. The others didn't follow him, that was for sure. A pang of dread filled him and he had a bad feeling that he'd never find out whether warehouse sixteen or warehouse eighteen had the weapons.
And his vision faded to black.
Seven minutes passed and Team Two was getting antsy. America and Sweden exchanged looks, wondering if Mexico was captured or if he was on his way back. Another three long minutes passed and they assumed the worst.
"I'm going to go find him." Cuba sighed, getting up.
"No, that's not a good idea." Sweden said calmly. "We send one person out there, he gets captured. We send another, he gets captured too."
America nodded. "One by one, they'll take us out. But Sweden, we can't just leave Mexico like that. I mean, sure sometimes I can't get along with the guy but as the leader of the Best Buds Group, I can't leave him. Let's have three people sent out there, like Germany does it. If Germany does it, then we can't really go wrong."
"You do realize Germany lost both world wars, right?" Cameroon asked America.
"Oh yeah...well, that was the past. So, let's see, Cameroon, you, Cuba, and Canada are to go and look for Mexico." America said, grinning at them.
The three stared at him for a while, and then at each other. "If the captain says so, then we should." Canada said quietly, breaking the silence.
"If anything happens to us, I'll blame you." Cuba grunted to America as he shifted the boxes aside. He slipped by the boxes and made his way down the metal stairs, followed closely by Canada and Cameroon.
They too left with a single glance back up at the others, and then they were gone.
"Is it a good idea for them to go and look for Mexico?" Romano asked, crossing his arms. "I mean, sure we need to find the guy, but why them?"
America cocked his head for a while. "I don't know. I picked random people."
"You didn't consider their weaknesses and strengths?" Sweden asked America.
"Uh..."
Romano cursed. "We're going to get fucked up."
Canada's shoulder slumped when he found himself all alone. How he got separated from the others, he wasn't exactly sure. Did they forget he was there again? That was most likely the case. He was trailing behind them and he shot a look behind his shoulders after they stopped behind a forklift.
When he looked back to the others, they were gone. He was alone.
Okay, well...I'll be able to find them eventually. Canada thought nervously, staying put. Maybe if he stayed where he was, they'd realize that he was gone and go looking for him. It would make things more difficult if they were looking for a moving target, so he decided to stay there.
Canada shuddered. He had gotten a sudden chill, as if he knew that something was going to happen.
'As if?' No. Canada took a long deep breath. Something was going to happen.
Cuba and Cameroon watched a pair of doppelgangers conversing quietly with each other in the distance. With those doppelgangers there, they couldn't advance forward; all they could do was to go back the way they came.
"We're wasting time here." Cuba whispered.
Cameroon nodded and glanced behind him. Then he stopped and stared at the emptiness behind them. "Are we missing someone?"
Cuba blinked at him. "What?"
Cameroon frowned. "We're missing someone." he repeated. He thought back to when he and Cuba and that one person left the makeshift box fort. America certainly sent out three people...right? Yes, he was sure of it.
Cameroon stared aimlessly into space as he tried grasp the faded memory of that third person when Cuba suddenly exclaimed, "Canada!"
Cameroon blinked blankly at Cuba. "Huh?"
Cuba shook Cameroon's shoulders anxiously and said, "Canada! We're missing Canada! Aw man, I can't believe I forgot the guy again! We have to go back and find him before he gets into trouble."
"Wait, wait." Cameroon grabbed onto Cuba's sleeve before he could rush out of their hiding spot. "Before we do anything, let's think this through carefully. We can't afford to mess up."
Cuba stared at him for a while, and then he sat back, leaning against the wall of the warehouse they hid behind. Then he heaved a heavy, defeated sigh and stared up at the sky. "Okay, so what do we do?
Silence. Not a word from Cameroon.
Cuba sighed again. "No ideas yet?"
No response. Not even a small grunt of confirmation or contradiction.
Cuba shot a weird sideways glance at Cameroon, only to stare at the empty air beside him. Cameroon was gone and he left a puddling trail of blood behind.
Shit, when did that happen? Cuba thought in bewilderment. And so silently too. I didn't even notice.
He got up to his feet and looked around. Nothing to the left, nothing to the right, and nothing in front. He noticed that the doppelgangers that prevented him and Cameroon from going anywhere were gone. So it was them. Cuba thought.
His back faced the wall, so there was no chance that the doppelgangers could come from behind. Cuba took a few steps out from the shadows, shot another series of looks around, and glanced up towards the rooftops.
"They couldn't have come from above." he murmured to himself. "I was looking up when he disappeared. I would have noticed. Right?" He scratched his head and fixed his eyes on the trail of blood.
Cuba scowled, "I'm not going to follow that. That's just stupid." The he went around the corner on the other side, planning to circle around the warehouse. I'll go around and see if I can track them. They'd probably think I'd follow the trail. Wonder if they expected me to do the opposite.
Then he stopped as soon as a sudden, startling thought popped up. What if they knew I wouldn't follow the trail and go behind?
Cuba couldn't help but gulp anxiously. The doppelgangers were getting to his head; there was no way they could anticipate his exact movements, could they? Maybe he was just getting paranoid. He didn't think that the doppelgangers would take a risk like that.
Would they?
"No, they wouldn't..." Cuba said to himself, and he found himself slowly walking forward, continuing around the warehouse. Then he stopped again. "But these are doppelgangers." he murmured. "Damn. What do I do?"
What were the chances of them assuming that he'd follow the trail? They would most likely know he wouldn't fall for that. They'd probably assume he'd go around, like he was about to. But what were the possibilities of him idling around thinking about it?
Cuba's stomach sank. Damn, they'd probably think I'd stay in one spot thinking and overwhelm me that way.
Unfortunately, he was right, but he didn't get a chance to realize it.
As Cuba collapsed to the ground, Dark Canada and Dark Brazil exchanged looks with each other on the top of the warehouse. "You have good aim." Dark Canada said to Dark Brazil.
Dark Brazil flashed a grin. "Obrigado."
Sweden gave America a long, hard, stare.
America fiddled his fingers nervously. It had been almost half an hour since they last saw Mexico and roughly twenty or so minutes since they last saw Canada, Cuba, and Cameroon.
And now Sweden was probably about to blame America for losing half of their team.
"Okay, okay, so maybe it was a mistake." America coughed.
Sweden's eyebrow rose at the word 'maybe'.
"Okay, it is a mistake. But never fear. We still got more heroes, right?" America stood up and kicked away the boxes that sheltered them. "Okay team. This time, we're all heading out. We have two objectives, and that is to save our teammates that bravely sacrificed themselves for the sake of the team, and to put down the doppelgangers once and for all-hey! Where are you going, Sweden?"
Sweden looked up from the stairs he was about to descend and said calmly, "Heading out. That's what you said."
America scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, but wait until I'm finished with my pep talk." When Sweden waited for the end, America cleared his throat and added sheepishly, "Uh, never mind. I think that was it."
America, Sweden, Molossia, and Romano cleaned up their makeshift box fort, rearranging the boxes so that they looked untouched. The boxes America kicked at were dented so they gathered up all the damaged boxes and scooted them together, covering them up with the other boxes.
After they thought that they did a pretty good job hiding any evidence they were there, they set off. "No more splitting up." America said to them as the four ran down the road, southwards.
"Why are you telling us?" Romano asked from behind. "You were the one who suggested it anyway, you jerk."
Sweden cut them both off with his glare. They silenced themselves, exchanging nervous looks. "Uh, Sweden, you're starting to scare me. Is something wrong?" America asked slowly, accelerating to catch up to him.
"You're too loud." Sweden said simply, and that was it.
They halted when they got to the first row of warehouse, panting softly to avoid being heard by the doppelgangers. After they made sure they weren't being followed, America led them to the first warehouse to deactivate whatever missiles were stored there.
"And if they're just regular light weapons like guns or grenades or crap, we can just steal them and hide it." America grinned.
"Really? That's your plan?" Romano asked, dumbfounded.
"Well yeah, I mean what else can you do?"
Romano didn't have an answer. Honestly, he didn't want to do anything but to go back home, hang out at his favorite cafe, flirt a little bit, and then take a siesta. He would do anything to do that again.
Anything but go up against the doppelgangers. Romano would even prefer to be back at the potato bastard's house, and he had even told America that. America had shrugged and said, "Whatever, but you're stuck here so you're gonna have to deal with it."
The first warehouse was the warehouse with the nuclear weapons deliverer, and their systems were back online to America's dismay. Dark America was leaning over the monitors, watching Dark Greenland work. From the main doors of the warehouse, Dark Canada and Dark Brazil entered with four limp figures being dragged behind them.
Team Two tensed when they saw that it was Mexico, Canada, Cuba, and Cameroon. "I knew it." America whispered.
"Of course you did." Romano whispered back, but America didn't seem to hear him.
"What are you two doing with those four?" Dark America asked from the deliverer.
Dark Brazil harrumphed and said smoothly, "They're not us."
Dark America nodded. "I see. Put them with South Italy."
"South Italy is gone." Dark Brazil said casually.
"What?" Dark America's tone hardened and the atmosphere suddenly became darker and colder.
"There's more of them here, I bet." Dark Greenland murmured.
Dark America glanced down at Dark Greenland, and then back up at Dark Brazil and Dark Canada who lined up Mexico, Canada, Cuba, and Cameroon by the wall. Dark America sighed and shook his head. "How annoying."
Dark Greenland watched Dark America walk to a desk on the other side of the warehouse and pull open the first drawer. "You know, I always thought that our originals were foolish." Dark America picked up a black handgun and inspected it. "They claim that whatever they do is simply because they want to." Dark America opened up another drawer and casually dropped new bullets into the magazine of the handgun. "Lies, of course. They follow their bosses. Mere mortals. Humans, you know? Ha! They deceive the people and tell them they do good...justice."
Dark America snapped the magazine into place. "I wonder when they'll realize that following regular humans who don't have the time or experience countries do is stupid. Every world leader will eventually die and decay, rotting away underground for the years to come. That's why the world need leaders that won't die. Leaders that can rule for centuries and maybe even forever, you know?"
He turned and glanced at Dark Greenland. "Don't you think?"
Dark Greenland said nothing. He only gave Dark America an analyzing look, as if wondering what he was up to, and then returned to his work unfazed.
Dark America didn't mind. He smiled and said softly, "The originals will have to just step aside and...let us take over." Dark America lifted his arm and shot the gun right where America and the others were hiding without looking at them.
America sucked in his breath and started to push everyone else back before the bullet could injure one of them. As he moved, he realized that his movements seemed to sloth-like, too lethargic, and he would never make it.
The bullet's trajectory was spot-on to hitting Sweden; America could tell just by the direction his doppelganger's arm was pointing in. Why Sweden, he had no idea. He only knew that if Sweden didn't get out of the way in time, he was in trouble.
Moving faster than a bullet was pretty much impossible, however. Sweden was caught by surprise for once and before America could yell out in alarm, Sweden fell backwards, his blood flying into the air to stain America, Molossia, and Romano.
"Sweden!" the three hissed as Sweden clutched his right shoulder, grimacing.
America hastily wiped the bright red blood from the lens of his glasses and gritted his teeth. Dark America's voice stopped him however when he said, "Oh, what's this? A new wave of hatred? Feels great. So refreshing, bro."
America stood up slowly and sent a glare towards his doppelganger's grinning face. "You're annoying. Like, seriously. Do you ever shut up?"
"No."
"Didn't think so." America said under his breath. He shot a sideways glance at Sweden, who was getting to his feet. America jumped as another gunshot rang out in the vast, empty air of the warehouse, making the shot much louder than it should.
Sweden gritted his teeth as the sharp pain shot up his other shoulder. Warm blood seeped through his sleeve and dripped down his fingertips. He ignored America, Molossia, and Romano's look of shock; he fixed his glare at Dark America, who was already reloading.
"What was that?" America exclaimed angrily.
Another shot.
This time, Molossia hissed and gripped his left side, cursing freely under his breath so that America wouldn't hear.
"Dude!" America hissed.
Another shot.
Romano yelped as a bullet pierced his right arm. "Shut the hell up or you'll kill us all!" he yelled at America.
America bit down on his lower lip and watched Dark America carefully. Dark America raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Finally. And you say I never shut up?"
America was about to retort but when he saw Dark America's trigger finger flexing by the trigger, he closed it shut.
Dark America glanced at Dark Greenland and murmured something to him. Dark Greenland nodded at him and left the deliverer. America and Sweden followed Dark Greenland with their eyes until Dark Greenland left through the main doors while beckoning Dark Canada and Dark Brazil.
"Where are they going?" Sweden asked Dark America, seeing that America wouldn't dare talk if it would make his doppelganger shoot.
Dark America was quiet for a moment, as if considering if he should shoot one of them because Sweden spoke. He decided not too and said, "Does it really matter?"
"Yes."
Dark America scoffed. "Why?"
"Why else?"
Dark America smiled at Sweden. "Touche. But I'm still not gonna tell. That's no fun, right? Now that you four are pretty much trapped, why don't you quietly go to the corner with your other friends and sit there like good boys, okay? You'll be safe here while we destroy your homes."
Forgetting that if he talked, someone would get shot, America asked, "How can you destroy me, Canada, and Mexico in a day? That kind of mission will take years and you don't have the firepower to do that."
Dark America pulled the trigger and America flinched as the bullet skid past his skin on his cheek. He heard Molossia behind him hiss in pain and turned around to watch Molossia clamp a hand over the side of his neck.
"Aw, you moved." Dark America said monotonously. "Oh well. Two birds with a rock. That's what England used to say, right?"
"It was a freaking stone." America snapped.
Dark America grinned. America wanted to jump off a cliff and the others secretly wished he would. Another bullet sped through the air and it pierced Romano in the chest.
"Someone duct-tape his fucking mouth shut already, damn it." Romano croaked, kneeling down as he clutched his chest.
Sweden reached out and clamped a bloody hand over America despite America grimacing at Sweden's blood entering his mouth. America's grimacing stopped when Sweden gave him a glare and he stilled himself.
"You want to know how we're going to do it?" Dark America asked quietly. He lowered the handgun and twirled it with his fingers, not at all worried if he might accidentally pull the trigger. "The big guns are for the bigger cities. Kinda obvious, you know? We have to wreck the big places. I know what you're thinking. Why destroy the big cities if there's no one there?
"Well, let me tell you. We're starting off fresh, and how can we do that if there are already things you guys built? We're gonna destroy starting with the big cities and over the years, we'll destroy everything else. You know how we can bring out the hate in your people, right? Well, we'll have your own people act as our henchmen. Our own pawns. After we get the dirty work done, we'll make them kill each other. Except for a few, you know? Gotta stay alive by keeping the government and some people."
Dark America cocked his head. "You know, I wasn't supposed to tell you guys anything. Every other hatred said to not do that, even if I have the greatest advantage. Germany's hatred said that the higher you go, the worse the fall will be."
Dark America scoffed in distaste. "Screw him. Who said I was gonna fall? The others worry too much. But I tell them that they're too careful. No risks at all, and dude, we're America. It's all about risk. The Revolution. We went against the lobster who was supposed to be the most powerful empire and crap.
"Civil War. Remember that? You split into two and fought against yourself. The risk? Losing the war and half of yourself. Sure you had a huge advantage but hey, they got some Indians. Man, I remember that war. So much blood. Remember Antietam? Shiloh? Ooh!" Dark America's eyes gleamed. "Remember Gettysburg?"
America balled up his fist and scowled through Sweden's hand. Sweden used his freehand to grab onto America's collar in case if America lunged at Dark America.
Dark America inhaled deeply and let out a long, relaxed sigh. "Man, that is some good hate inside of you. I can feel it from here."
"Don't get angry at him." Sweden ordered quietly to America. "Stay calm."
"I'm trying." America muttered under his hand, keeping quiet so Dark America wouldn't take aim at them.
"Try harder."
Dark America burst out laughing. "Oh, I can feel some reluctance in that hate right now. Good luck. It takes a lot to keep me down." He stopped, giving them a wide, broad smirk. "You know what? Yeah, screw the others. I'll do what I want. I think I'll start the attack right now. It's a day early for me but if Japan's hatred is gonna start soon, then why can't I?"
"If you go against orders, what will they do to you?" Sweden asked Dark America coldly.
Dark America shrugged. "Dunno. But what can they do? I'm a superpower. They can't kill me off."
America ripped Sweden's hand from his mouth and spat, "What do you mean 'me'? I'm the real one!"
Instead of a gunshot, Dark America mused, "Yeah, but what's 'real' anymore? Two months ago, if you tell the other countries that an emotion will take over the world, would they believe you? Hell no. But look what happened."
Dark America made his way to the deliverer and started to activate the weapons. When America and Sweden started to run to him, Dark America raised a free hand into the air. America and Sweden stopped at the sound of several gun hammers clicking back and they looked up along the second platform running along the side of the warehouse.
Doppelgangers aimed at the severely wounded Romano and Molossia, the unconscious Mexico, Canada, Cuba, and Cameroon, and at America and an already injured Sweden. Dark America laughed and clapped his hands. "Man, I've always wanted to do that. Give a signal and have people aim at enemies. Dude, that's cool."
America winced as one of the guns shot and lodged a bullet inside his side. "Dude, the heck?" he spat, looking down to see a growing bloodstain on his shirt.
"Not my fault some are trigger-happy. Blame Switzerland's hatred. He was here a couple days ago to check our light arms." Dark America said coolly. "You're pretty much stuck. Whatcha gonna do now?"
America bowed his head. He stayed like that for a few silent seconds. Then he looked at Sweden. As always, his face was stoic, but something in his eyes showed defeat. America glanced back at Romano and Molossia, who were puddling with dark red blood. A dangerous amount of blood loss too; he swore they were practically bathing in it.
There was no other choice.
Earlier, back at Germany's house, America had worried that something bad will happen. It alwa\ys do, and he planned a back-up plan that only he knew. He didn't even tell Sweden. He knew that Sweden would go against it so he kept it to himself.
Only, he told his military, and they did express some doubt but America ignored it. "Now or never boys," he had said to them. "I know it's crazy, but it's now or never."
It's not like we can die. Just very, very, very, very, very, wounded. America thought.
He slowly reached into his pocket and fished for his walkie-talkie. Dark America and the other doppelgangers watched him carefully.
"Are there some regular people around here? Like, in the city?" America asked.
Dark America frowned for once. "No. Why?" he asked slowly.
America breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I'd never forgive myself if this happened and I killed innocent people."
Dark America tensed and so did the others. "What?"
America ignored him and pressed the button on the walkie-talkie to contact his military. "Execute Plan X." he said.
A voice sounded alarmed. "But sir, that's too risky."
America smiled weakly to himself. "Risky...yeah."
"Sir?"
"Do it."
"Do what?" Dark America asked dangerously, his voice rising.
America was shot several times in the back and he fell to his knees, dropping the walkie-talkie as he collapsed. Coughing up blood, America croaked, "This place is gonna be bombed, bro. I'm bombing us."
"America..." Sweden hissed but he couldn't say anything else.
"I'm sorry dude." America coughed feebly. His muscles didn't seem to be able to hold him up any longer. He let himself fall to the ground in the puddle of his blood. "It'll hurt a lot but we won't die. As long as we have our people and our government, we won't die."
Dark America hissed sharply and shouted, "What do you mean we're going to be bombed? Don't you know that if you bomb bombs, it'll-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." America grinned at his doppelganger through his blood mask. "Just shut up and deal with it you coward."
Above them, they could hear jets zooming above them. America closed his eyes and listened to the doppelgangers yelling at each other. He felt Sweden collapse next to him and he opened one eye. Sweden was facing him with a knowing look in his eyes. There was no defeat in them; just knowing.
"Bombing the bombs." Sweden murmured. "Do you usually do that?"
America closed his eyes once more and gave Sweden a genuine smile.
"No. But I wish."
The bombs were dropped. America's men in the fighter jets felt a small pang of regret deep down inside of them despite knowing fully well that their country wouldn't die. They still felt guilty, putting their country through that much pain, but it was their job to follow orders and they followed them through.
A loud explosion followed them out of the city; the shock waves threatened to send them out of control but they held together and escaped without a single scratch.
A few of them couldn't help but glance behind them to watch the city burn in embers. The clouds around them seemed to be pushed away from the city; the air below them because dusty and thick with flaming debris.
The Los Angeles Hideout was gone, and part of the world was safe from destruction.
One down, six more to go.