With the Seas ~ A Hetalia Fan Fiction

Chapter 20 ~ Heist

Arthur’s plan is simple. At midnight, he will sail the ship just out of range of the enemy and distract them with cannon fire. I will ride a longboat with a small group of men to the enemy ship while they are preoccupied. In the darkness and confusion, no one will notice us making our way toward the warship to destroy the ship’s rudder and prevent proper steering. We have been given fifteen minutes to destroy it. After those fifteen minutes, Arthur and most of the men will sail around to the stern and board the warship. One of our men will drop a rope down to us so that we can join the fray. We’ll raid the ship and move on to Campania and Maré.

It should be easy, shouldn’t it?

***

The earthshattering blasts from the cannons signal us to move. Swiftly and silently, the men and I row toward the Rugido Furioso. Even now, the inky black sky is clouded; there are no stars with only a sliver of moonlight guiding us. We arrive, unseen, at the end of the boat. Half of the rudder is submerged underwater, while the other half is within our reach.

“All right, men. Hand me the bombs.”

Swanson hands me a small bundle of explosives that I jam into a gap between the rudder and the ship. Swanson quickly lights the fuse, and we row as far away from the rudder as possible. There is a small, loud boom. We wait silently for a moment, pistols in hand. No one comes to look down from the ship, so we go near the rudder again. The blast was small, but it was strong enough to permanently damage the rudder.

Perfect.

Right on time, I hear a low whistle, and a rope drops down to us. I am the last one to climb aboard. The scene before me is absolutely chaotic. Everywhere I look, there are swords clashing and guns firing. Nobody is standing still. Nobody has time to catch a breath. Some bodies litter the floor, but a good number of them are crewmen of the Rugido Furioso. Despite being gravely outnumbered, our men are holding up rather well.

Two men come running at me with swords, but I shoot them down in a heartbeat. I pull out my sabre to fend off two more men, and then I go off to find Arthur. Suddenly, I sense a bloodthirsty presence behind me and turn around just in time to block an extremely heavy weapon from slicing through my neck. It’s a battle axe. Struggling to keep the sharp blade away from me, I glance up the length of the weapon to its owner. His tanned skin is clad in black and red. Strands of chestnut brown hair tied back in a short ponytail fall into forest green eyes glinting with pure malice.

”Hola,” he says with a wicked grin.