This is the first chapter of TO STOP A KILLER. I worked very hard on it, so I hope you enjoy it.
Author: Epicocity
Rating: T for violence and language
Pairings: Edwin, Royai, HavBec, Ross/Brosh and maybe more
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to Fullmetal Alchemist. Hiromu Arakawa does.
TO STOP A KILLER
Final Book of The Vengeance Series
Chapter 1
"Commissioner Mustang, the senator will see you now."
"Thank you, Gloria," the charcoal haired commissioner answered. Fifty-year old Roy Mustang bent down to grab his briefcase, the object acting more as a prop than containing any important information. He then stood and followed the senator's secretary. Sixteen years had been kind to Roy. His hair was still a rich black (though he'd begun to notice some flecks of gray) and he was still very much in shape. The only thing about him that showed his age was, perhaps, the bags under his eyes from the long nights of doing paperwork. In particular, most of the paperwork he'd had to deal with lately had to do with the passing of the STONE bill, which was the reason he was visiting the senator who'd spearheaded it.
"Senator Ather, he's here," Roy heard the senator's secretary, Gloria, say quietly. Mustang instantly arranged his face into one that was all business as the secretary stepped aside to let him enter.
"Commissioner Mustang," spoke the senator with an authoritative voice, "I was wondering when you'd find the time to come and speak with me."
"Then I'd assume you know why I'm here," he replied, seating himself in the chair opposite Ather, getting a good look at him.
Senator Frederick Ather was, for all intents and purposes, like a very political version of him. At only thirty-two, the man had been elected as senator for the East City region of Amestris, around the same time that Roy himself had become chief of police at the Central City PD. He quickly became well-known as an ambitious politician who, by his fourth year in office was elected to be the chair of the Committee for the Defense of Amestris. Just two years ago, he'd been re-elected and had since caused Mustang no end of grief.
"You're here about the Safety and Tactical Operations for New Enforcement bill," Ather replied, running a hand through his blond hair. Mustang scowled at both the man's insight and his looks; both of them reminded him of someone he didn't care to think about.
"In a way," Mustang responded in kind. "I'm really just here about a particular part of your baby bill."
"I think I can guess which."
"Then it saves us some time," Mustang replied coldly. Ather looked unfazed and simply continued to watch the commissioner over the tips of his interlocked fingers. "In the bill, you slashed the funds to my department."
"With good reason," Ather answered calmly.
"There's always a good reason with you politicians; but me and my department can't do our jobs if you continue to cut our funding," Mustang argued. Ather said nothing, so he continued on. "Look, Ather, this is the third bill you've passed in the last two years that has taken the funds from the police and diverted it to something else. I understand that you politicians here in Central could hardly care about the lives you trample over, but I can't help my people do their jobs of keeping the streets safe if we don't have the money to operate in a certain capacity."
"Are you going to appeal to my emotional side next, commissioner?" Mustang grew indignant at the question, patronizing tone and all, but his few years of being commissioner had more than taught him to lock those feelings down.
"Somehow, I very much doubt that you have much of an emotional side to appeal to," Roy stated crossly. "I could bore you with some sob story about parents and their children, but the simple fact is that me and my people keep you safe, and if we don't, you may very well be the next one to bite a bullet. Tell me where your STONE bill saves you there?"
Ather stood from his chair at the question and turned his back to Mustang in seeming contemplation. Roy very much doubted that he had to contemplate anything. The commissioner's eyes surveyed the room, noting how devoid of any personality it was. His eyes flicked back to the senator just in time. "You strike me as an intelligent man, commissioner. One who has had to make difficult choices, yes?"
"A few, I guess," he told the senator.
"Then you'll understand my choices," he said sternly, turning around to face Mustang with a deeply creased frown. "This country, our country, is surrounded by nations with vast military strength. I view them as threats, especially in recent years with an increase in arms. STONE is not an attempt to make us weaker at home, but rather to strengthen our intelligence assets abroad. Congress understands this threat in a way that you do not."
"All things considered, that sounds like shit," Mustang replied. "It's empty rhetoric from someone who's never had to-" Roy's planned tirade was suddenly cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. He briefly scowled but held up a finger. Ather remained patient while he answered it. "I hope this is important."
"Would I call if it wasn't, sir?" spoke the cool voice of Hawkeye over the phone. Mustang stood and retreated to a corner of the room while he waited for Hawkeye to fill him in on why she was calling him. "There's been a robbery at the Bank of Amestria, Central Branch. A teller was killed and there are at least twenty people being held hostage, including Senator Lowe."
"Well, shit," Mustang breathed. This kind of situation warranted media presence, and also meant that he'd have to get down there before it all exploded in his face. "All right, hold the fort until I can get there."
"Very well, sir," she responded crisply before hanging up the phone. Mustang sighed and turned back to the senator he had been attempting to deal with.
"I'm afraid I have to cut this meeting short," he said with a fake smile plastered on at the end. "There's some urgent business I need to attend to, but I'd hope we can resolve this matter soon."
"Of course," Ather stated. Neither man offered a hand to the other, just their smiles. Mustang nodded and turned to depart from the room. "Tell you what, Mustang, instead of having a one-on-one, why don't you speak before the senate. After all, they're the ones you need to convince, aren't they?"
"I'll think on it," he answered before he opened the door from the office.
"I'll tell them to pencil you in!" Mustang snapped the door shut to cut him off.
Prick…he thought to himself as he swept from the Capitol building. He never liked working with politicians, even in his position. In particular, he didn't trust any of them. It was more like he couldn't trust any of them; not after what happened sixteen years ago. Not after the lie he'd so quietly covered up all those years ago. Roy shook his head to get rid of the oppressive thoughts and instead focused on where he was going.
Sixteen years had changed the landscape of the country's power structure. New presidents had come and gone, Congress had changed, and the police department had finally managed to clean out all the filth in its ranks. A large part of that had to do with Mustang and his team's efforts, but former commissioner Grumman had also been essential until age and a shifting public opinion put Mustang into the role. Since then, he'd rubbed elbows with some of the most powerful members of the government, including Senator Logue Lowe, the former mayor of Ishval who was now a close friend. At least, he was as a close to a "friend" as someone like himself could have. Even with all that, Roy still couldn't stand Frederick Ather.
Right now wasn't the time to give that man any focus, though. Not with the bank approaching swiftly with the numerous police cars and tactical trucks outside. He parked his car as surreptitiously as he could and slipped out to join the team before any of the media had arrived. It wasn't hard to catch the stoic bearing of Central PDs Chief Riza Hawkeye. She caught sight of him as well and easily waved him over. Mustang noticed that she was surrounded by the others from what used to be called Team Mustang. Her head turned briefly to the side, obviously catching a glimpse of him since she waved him over.
"What do we have?" he asked, his tone shifting to business in a matter of seconds.
"Feury's managed to hack into the cameras inside the bank, but we're obviously dealing with professionals. We can't even really confirm the hostage count or the number of robbers. I just gave a rough estimate earlier," Hawkeye responded promptly. He looked to her in disgruntlement, yet couldn't help notice that she wasn't wearing her earrings today like she usually did. This case was obviously serious.
Riza Hawkeye had changed relatively little over the sixteen years, other than growing older like the rest of them. Since he had become commissioner, and because Hawkeye insisted on having his back, he had promoted her to the station of chief at Central. It was really a no-brainer. The woman was a warrior in her own right and she easily garnered respect in her command amongst everyone. Mustang wasn't sure if cutting her hair shorter helped, but at the very least it made her look like she was in a position of greater authority; just like the woman she seemed to be talking about.
"Captain Ross is currently meeting with the tactical team," she told him, folding her arms across her chest. Mustang nodded as he looked up at the imposing bank building. He hated hostage situations.
"How are we sure that Senator Lowe is in the building?" he asked.
"Called his office, chief," said the voice of Jean Havoc, who was leaning against a truck with a cigarette. Mustang frowned at him and he immediately removed it from his mouth with a growl. The man's vice had gotten worse since his divorce. "Witnesses said he was seen entering the bank about five minutes before the commotion started inside. Then we managed to talk to his driver and confirmed it with his office."
"So, we have no line of connection to the inside," Mustang said, his eyes briefly flitting over to the senator's driver. The man was fidgeting back and forth in front of his car, so the commissioner ignored him. Havoc let out a puff of smoke as a response before finally putting his cigarette out. It was obvious he had only really done so because of the captain approaching.
"Commissioner, I wasn't expecting you here," Captain Maria Ross said with a minor salute. Mustang gave her a swift nod to remove the edge from their conversation. Ross relaxed a little and ran a hand through her black hair while Mustang's continual stare urged his Captain of Robbery to go on with whatever news she had. She cleared her throat immediately. "Right, we have a vague number of hostages inside, estimated at about twenty or so since we were able to confirm with upper management that about seven people are on staff and we can estimate customers by the number of cars."
"Has a call inside been successful?" Mustang asked. His gaze flicked over to the bank building, its stone walls a practical fortress with no obvious lines of sight inside.
"We've put in a couple calls, but they haven't picked them up," Ross answered, her lips a thin line that accented her mole slightly. "Whoever these guys are, they're professionals and they have no plans to negotiate."
"Well, that gives us a window, at least," called a voice. Mustang turned to see Heymans Breda, bedecked in tactical gear, walking over. "If they were just some random bank robbers, they could randomly kill a hostage out of desperation. Seeing as they're professional, though, we may have a small window in which to act."
"Doesn't matter," Mustang dismissed casually. "If you have a plan and the tactical team is ready, I suggest you move in as quickly as possible. Let's not lose a single hostage and I want those robbers taken alive. If they are professional, they might be working for someone. I'd want to know who."
"Even if they're not," Hawkeye continued the train of thought, "it'd behoove us to know why they'd want to break into a highly secured bank like the Bank of Amestria in broad daylight, especially with a senator in the building."
"Those are good questions," Havoc commented. Mustang answered with a dirty glare.
"Go help out Feury," Mustang snapped at the blond. Havoc didn't argue.
"Is the team ready, Detective Breda?" Ross asked of the burly man. Breda nodded curtly.
"Just waiting for your command, sir. I'm personally leading the team in myself," he responded with a straight posture that belied his confident manner. Mustang slapped him on the back.
"No one better," he told him. That sort of acknowledgement seemed to be the signal for both Breda and Ross to move off and start preparing the team. This left Mustang alone with Hawkeye.
"I hate hostage situations. Sets my teeth on edge," the commissioner admitted.
"I know you do, sir," Hawkeye chortled out in amusement. "We all do. Speaking of unpleasant situations, I hear there will be some familiar faces at the wedding this weekend."
"Don't remind me," Roy said with a scowl, his lower lip twitching slightly. "I've got enough on my plate to deal with before I can even begin to think about this weekend. And you're not even going anyway!"
"That's-" Before Riza could get the words out, both of them once more caught sight of Havoc running towards them, looking more than flustered. Mustang's eyes narrowed; something had gone wrong. "Detective Havoc, what's going on?"
"Activity on the camera," Havoc answered. "Something's going on inside, but hell if we know what it is." Mustang was on the move before Havoc had finished his sentence, quickly approaching the black van with its back doors open. The commissioner leapt upward into the van and in seconds was leaning over the shoulder of his ever-reliable tech specialist Kain Feury.
"I'm trying to bring the feed back up, sir," Feury announced. Mustang scrutinized the cameras himself. They seemed to be glitching in and out. He had never been as tech-savvy as Feury, but he knew enough to say the cameras were definitely malfunctioning. In between the bursts of static, there seemed to be a thick haze in the building. "You're seeing some sort of tear gas, but it's not from our guys. That hit the room and I sent Detective Havoc to tell you. Then the cameras started glitching. I don't think anyone's countering my hack so there must be something manually interf-"
"Captain Ross, move in now!" barked Hawkeye, effectively silencing her subordinate. As soon as she delivered her order, she grabbed her gun from its holster. Mustang almost rolled his eyes, but followed her own example by grabbing his weapon. "Kain, keep an eye on those cameras and let me know if anything changes."
"Yes, sir." Mustang patted Feury on the shoulder like he had Breda and followed his other subordinates out of the van. Immediately, he noticed the smoke pouring from the front door of the bank as officers from the tactical team streamed in. The breach had begun. Mustang trailed right after Hawkeye and took position next to her and Havoc just outside the front door, all three of them raising their guns just in case.
"What is going on in there?" Havoc breathed, his hand twitching slightly on his gun. Mustang said nothing and continued to watch the entrance. Moments later, members of the tactical team came pouring out of the smoke, each one of them bringing a hostage out. The commissioner noticed Senator Lowe among the lot that were being pulled over to the ambulances. The rescue had obviously been a success, but they were still at a loss to explain what had gone down in the bank.
The commissioner decided that the easiest way to get answers was to speak with someone who was there. He moved to speak to Senator Lowe just as both Hawkeye and Havoc put their hands to their ears, obviously listening to something on the other side of the radio. Hawkeye was the first to speak. "Sir, it would appear that Breda needs us to see something inside."
Mustang's scowl deepened; that was never a good thing. Still, he knew he'd have to see what Breda wanted him to see, so he stepped forward towards the bank, his ever faithful subordinates behind him as they cleared the threshold of the building. Inside, the gas and smoke seemed to be clearing, which made it easy to navigate the entranceway and into the main lobby. Some of the tactical team were still in the area, huddled around two figures on the ground. None of them were Breda, though, so Mustang pushed further into the bank until he reached the safety deposit box room where Breda was. He wasn't alone.
"Four guys, all dead," Breda announced solemnly. "One of them's in the lobby, but this guy was practically shot in the face. It's not a pretty sight."
"They were after the safety deposit boxes? What for?" Hawkeye questioned. She was squatting, having stowed her gun away, and was peering over the tossed contents of the safety deposit boxes.
"No idea yet," Breda admitted. "There's about twenty or thirty boxes that were broken into, so it'll take a while to get through everything. They also hit the vault, but were killed before they could haul any of the cash off. That's not the reason I called you in here, though."
Breda's statement commanded the commissioner's attention and he turned he head to the beefier man. Said man held out a card, one side of it bloodied, no doubt thanks to the unrecognizable face. Mustang's lips tightened. He didn't even need a closer look to confirm what it was. Havoc didn't need it either because he was swearing loudly. Still, Mustang took the card and stared at the symbol on the front: an eye placed within a diagram of the country. It's meaning was hardly subtle.
"Truth…Damn bastard," Mustang expressed with distaste.
"He really likes showing off, doesn't he?" Havoc asked, his own face twisted into a scowl. "Who does he think he is?" Mustang sighed in response. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the forensic techs moving in and he held the card out to one of them, who bagged it. The card wouldn't get them anywhere, but it was at least worth the attempt.
"What he likes doing is getting in our way," Mustang answered his subordinate. "Normally, I'd consider a vigilante a small problem, even if the department looks bad, but now he's killing people. This is something I won't stand for, no matter what he is to the public eye."
"Well," Hawkeye commented as she stood, her eyes still on the safety deposit boxes, "at least we have come new leads, slight though it may be. Dead bodies can sometimes leave more trails than live ones."
"How true," Mustang responded, turning away from the others. "I want this guy caught. No more taking this vigilante crap lightly. I want to know everything about Truth: who he is, how he knows things, where he gets his toys, his friends, his family. Most of all, though, I want his head on a fucking platter."
"This guy's got you fired up, huh, chief?" Havoc scoffed out, his tone betraying that he was actually a little frightened of the commissioner. "I haven't seen you this pissed at a guy since the terrorist who shot you."
"I thought we agreed not to talk about that case, Havoc," Mustang said warningly. Havoc laughed sheepishly. "That said, I'm not about to let the department be ridiculed like it has the last couple months. This is the final nail in Truth's coffin. It ends now."
"Leave it to us, sir," Hawkeye stated. "Breda, was the team able to gather any more intel?"
"Look, I'm great at observing things, but I'm not a miracle worker, chief," Breda answered. "I've been in here almost the whole time."
"I was just asking, Heymans," Hawkeye told him affectionately. "Sir, I'm thinking I'll call Armstrong in on this one. It has turned into a homicide, after all, and he is captain."
"No problem. Keep me apprised," Mustang told her as he moved to leave the room. Havoc jerked in his direction at the movement.
"Whoa, whoa, boss. You're not sticking around? This kind of case can always use extra hands," Havoc said, almost pleading with his boss. Mustang briefly turned to him and eyed Havoc with amusement.
"You realize that I have actual work that needs doing?" he asked.
"Never stopped you from working on cases instead of paperwork before."
"Yes, but in this case, 'work' means I have to go to meetings," Mustang explained. "What's going on Havoc? You never cared so much before."
"Sorry, it's just…Becca wants me to take the kids the rest of the week, and I need to pick them up today, so…"
Mustang sighed. Sometimes he hated being reminded of the fact that other people had families while he had chosen a different route. "Pick up your kids, Jean, but I still want you on deck for this case. I don't care if you have to hire a nanny to do it. I need you here."
"You got it, chief," Mustang flashed a brief smile and left the room. If there was one thing he'd been known for as commissioner, it was the lengths he went to in order to care of his subordinates. Some had even taken to calling him by the nicknames "The Compassionate Commissioner" or "Merciful Mustang". They sounded cheesy, but if it meant he was a better commissioner than King Bradley had been, he was all for it.
"Commissioner! Sir!" yelled a young voice and Mustang turned to see an energetic and young forensic specialist approaching. If anything, he looked to be in his late twenties and seemed to have just gotten his training wheels off. The young brunet looked impressionable and amiable; two things that the previous specialist he knew hadn't been. Mustang watched the young man as he finished approaching, and waited for the information the man was sure to give. "We found the perpetrator's entry point."
"By perpetrator, I'd assume you mean Truth?"
"Yes, sir," the specialist answered swiftly, like he couldn't get it out fast enough. "There are old tunnels underneath the bank. They don't lead inside, but it was how he slipped past your perimeter and got to the back door that they use for cash deliveries. After that, he broke in and-"
Mustang held up a sudden hand to stop the young man from speaking. "This is all well and good, but shouldn't you be giving this information to Chief Hawkeye?"
"Oh…o-of course, s-sir." Mustang nodded, adding a smile to assure the young man that he'd done no harm before taking his leave of him. The bank continued to bustle with police activity as pictures were taken and certain areas were roped off. The commissioner frowned until he stepped outside. The coroner's assistant moved past him and Mustang looked to see Senator Logue Lowe against his car, visibly shaken but holding strong. He also saw Mustang.
"Roy!" he shouted over the activity. The commissioner made his way over.
"How are you holding up, senator?" Mustang asked from a place of true concern. Senator Lowe was one of the few politicians that didn't act as a greedy charlatan. It probably had to do with being mayor of Ishval for years.
"Too much excitement for me," Lowe joked. "So, I heard you had a meeting with Ather this morning. How'd that go?"
"As well as you'd expect. The man's like an emotionless stone. I'd have gotten further with his physical office itself. Then this mess happened and I had to cut the meeting short."
"Sorry," Lowe apologized sheepishly, though it was nowhere near his fault. "Well, I wouldn't feel too bad about Ather. You're not the only one opposing that ridiculous STONE bill. Honestly, defenses abroad won't stop crime in places like Ishval, but your department's really cleaned up the streets lately. I'm grateful for that."
"And I'm grateful to you for all your support, sir," Roy added respectfully. "More importantly, though, what the hell happened in there?"
Lowe gave a short laugh before answering with, "I wish I could tell you. One minute we're being held hostage, then tear gas fills the room and everyone begins panicking, doubly so when we heard the gunshot. I tried holding it all together, but I couldn't see a thing through the gas."
"So, you've no idea what our favorite vigilante looks like, then?" Mustang asked, though it came out more as a groan of frustration. Lowe shook his head while frowning.
"If I did, I'd tell you, especially since his presence seems to bolster the need for STONE," Lowe lamented. "I may have seen…something through the gas, if it helps. We were all panicking and the robber keeping guard was telling us to shut up when I guess he was hit. All I saw was a vague shape standing over the guy. He looked lithe, and a little short. Judging from his height and build…no more than mid-twenties."
"That's…something…" Lowe smiled awkwardly in apology, but Mustang couldn't fault him. It wasn't like they'd managed to do any better. There was a sudden tap on his shoulder and Mustang noticed Captain Ross behind him.
"Sir, the press is arriving," she informed him quietly. Both he and the senator took that as the cue to part. They briefly shook hands and Roy followed Ross as she cut a path to his vehicle. "I hear you scheduled a meeting with Denny today."
"That's my next stop," Mustang admitted. Ross said nothing, though the commissioner noticed how tight her body's movements were. "Don't worry, Maria, your husband's not in any trouble. If anything, you may have cause to celebrate tonight. But I'll let him tell you that after we meet."
"Sir, sometimes you know the exact thing to say," Ross joked when they finally reached his car. He couldn't help but laugh at that one. He opened the car door.
"Commissioner Mustang, a word on today's bank robbery for Central T.V.?" asked a balding man with glasses. He hated it when the press pounced like a shark on blood.
"Go," Ross stated. Mustang decided to heed the woman's advice and he got into his car. "The commissioner and police department have no comment at this time." Mustang began to shut his door but still heard the reporter's next question.
"Is it true that Truth has managed to successfully wrap this case once again where the police could not?"
That made Mustang wear a sour look on his face. Truth…that bastard. For the last few months, the bespoken vigilante had been nothing but a thorn in his side almost to the extent that Ather's STONE bill had been. He'd no idea why the skilled and tech-savvy vigilante had chosen his moniker, but Mustang had a couple of ideas, each as revolting as the next. Maybe he was trying to expose some non-existent truth within the department by interfering with them on a weekly basis. It was also possible that he viewed himself as the epitome of truth and justice or something just as asinine. Whatever the case was, Truth the Vigilante had interrupted any number of busts, usually right before they were about to make them.
It was a pain in the ass. The media had taken to calling them Department Dumbasses and he was Commissioner Clueless because they couldn't stop crime. Truth, though, he was practically the news outlets' baby and hero. Mustang wasn't sure what the rest of the people thought, but it pissed him off that a citizen was taking the law into his own hands through increasingly violent measures, but was lauded as some sort of savior. It was like hard work meant nothing. Today was simply the final straw. Mustang drew the line at murder, even if it was of scumbags.
With these unpleasant thoughts in his head, the commissioner took off for Central station. Naturally, it took him no time at all and he was quickly walking up its steps, numerous officers greeting him on the way in. Central's station had hardly changed at all over the last many years. If anything, there weren't as many people working there, but that was about it. Of course, that was just the surface. Underneath, Mustang had worked for years to radicalize the department's structure by working with the president and Congress. After a couple years, he finally made headway by removing the long-standing image that Central was the be all and end all of police advancement.
Sure, he'd brought most of his team over, and he was in Central to deal with politics. Now, however, the East branch, along with every other one, was considered just as important. Roy liked to think it was a positive change. He wanted a more open and caring department; not the one Bradley had cultivated, where you didn't know if you'd be stabbed in the back by a "friend". That was the reason he placed his office on the same floor as the rest of the people who worked for the department: he wanted them to feel he wouldn't abandon them. The office was still secluded, but that was just for security.
"Oh, Commissioner, you're back," called his secretary. Ironically, it was the very same woman he'd met on a case almost seventeen years ago: Rose Thomas. "Detective Brosh is waiting just inside."
"Thanks, Rose," Roy said with his usual smile. "How're the kids?"
"Cain's going to be coming home from the Academy this weekend," Rose answered with a smile.
"Glad to hear. You're taking a vacation soon, right?" She didn't even need to nod for the answer to be confirmed. He started towards his office doors. "Well, enjoy yourself. Oh, and if Chief Hawkeye or the rest of the team call, let me know as soon as possible."
"You got it." He really appreciated the informal nature she approached him with. With a wave, he pushed his doors open and strode into the sparsely decorated room. The detective there stood in an instant, snapping to attention. His blond hair bounced as his body remained rigid. It was almost amusing to the commissioner, but he instead chose to get down to business.
"Relax, Brosh, and sit down," he chortled as he walked around his desk and took a seat on the opposite side. "Sorry for making you wait, but I'm sure you heard about the hostage situation."
"N-no problem, sir," Brosh stammered out. He was obviously fearful when there was no need to be.
"You're not in trouble, Denny," he assured him. Brosh finally relaxed, but still remained at attention. Roy looked the younger detective over. At first glance, Denny Brosh wouldn't seem like proper detective material. He was slightly spotty and had definitely played second fiddle to Ross when she had been his partner during their officer days. It was a wonder the two had married and went on to have a happy family. However, that was over a decade ago and Brosh had since matured into a great detective that commanded respect from his subordinates and his huge family alike. He had a sharp mind and sharper instincts. Roy liked him for that. Mustang must have been staring a while because Brosh was speaking up.
"Then, uh, what am I here for, sir?" he was asking. Mustang leaned back in his chair.
"Performance reviews came out recently, as you know," he began to answer. "I found myself reviewing your file on recommendation from your wife, Captain Armstrong and Chief Hawkeye. You have an excellent arrest record during your time in Narcotics, which can't have been easy, given the vigilante activity of late."
"I try my best," Brosh stated modestly. "Family to feed, after all."
"Your best is really damn good, Brosh," Mustang remarked. "There's no substitute for hard work and loyalty to the department, and that makes you one hell of a cop. Honestly, I never thought moving you here to Central would have been a good move, but you proved me wrong."
"Thanks for the compliments, sir, but…what exactly are you trying to say?"
Mustang stood again and walked back around his desk to stand right before the befuddled detective. "I'm transferring you to homicide. I think you'll make the department proud there."
"H-homicide?" Brosh looked absolutely taken aback. "You're…promoting me?"
"Effective immediately. Captain Armstrong is looking forward to working with you." Brosh stood at this once again and eagerly shook the commissioner's hand. "Now there's a sensitive case going on at the moment, but Armstrong informs me that he'll have you put on other cases to get your feet wet."
"I'm honored, sir," Brosh said. He finally let go of Mustang's hand.
"Enough with the 'sir'. You have twenty-four hours to move your desk out to Homicide," Mustang told him. "Go on, celebrate with your family. You deserve it." That was all Brosh needed to fire off another string of thank-yous before leaving the office entirely. Roy couldn't stop himself from smiling as he leaned back against his desk. His peace was short-lived, interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Chief Hawkeye's here," Rose informed him. She didn't bother to wait for his answer, knowing exactly what it would be.
"That was quick. What'd you find at the scene?" Mustang asked as soon as Hawkeye's head was in the door. She didn't bother to answer until she'd sat down.
"Robbers were drugged with a compound that knocked them out. Breda's with Forensics now to figure out where it came from," Hawkeye told him wearily. "Truth was well-prepared. I called Armstrong as well. He and Feury will run down the drug lead once we have it. Ballistics can't get a match, though. Apparently, the bullet is too fragmented. Havoc's also running down on the way Truth got into the building."
"Anything on the robbers?"
"Just some petty crooks who used to operate in the east. No idea about the leader, though, considering his face has been shot off. This was their first big job, so I'm thinking they may have been hired by someone. I'll be searching over a list of potential suspects once those leads come through. Also, uniforms are compiling a list of contents for those safety deposit boxes."
"We're moving forward, then. That's a miracle," Mustang commented bitterly. "Truth has never left us so much before. It's like Christmas."
"Hmm…" Riza hummed out. "Sir…Roy, about the wedding. I've reconsidered your offer."
"What offer?" he asked, before recalling a vague memory from a few days ago. "Oh…that. I forgot about it with everything going on."
"Well, I think we both need a chance to unwind, so…maybe it'd be best if we both went to the wedding. Just as colleagues, of course."
"Tempting," he joked in response. "What? Did you think I'd say no? It'll be nice to go together. I haven't gotten out of the office ever since this Truth debacle started up."
"Myself, as well-" Hawkeye's statement was cut off by the ringing of her phone. She held up a finger to Roy before answering it. The commissioner zoned out, staring at the still bare walls of his office. It was just a little lame. "Sir, I have a report from both Breda and Havoc."
"Did the leads pan out?" Mustang asked in anticipation.
"They did. In fact, both lead to the same place," Hawkeye said with just a hint of triumph in her voice. "The drug used was an anesthetic developed recently, combined with a poison that slowly spread through the body. Likewise, our friend Truth used a code breaker to get through the secured back door. Both of these things were developed by Mugear and Company."
Roy paled at the name, just slightly. "You're sure it's Mugear and Company?"
"One and the same."
"Shit." Roy almost fell to the floor. He hated that news, and it was for one reason only. "Now we get to deal with a loudmouthed brat."
"You realize he's hardly a brat anymore? He has three children," Riza reminded him amusingly.
"That's where you're wrong, Hawkeye," Roy scoffed loudly. "Edward Elric will always be a brat, and now he's our best lead to capturing that bastard, Truth.
Author's Note: Welcome back! Or welcome, if that's the case! This was the first chapter of the final installment of the Vengeance Series that started with TO CATCH A KILLER and continued in TO FIND A KILLER. Obviously, this is set much farther in the future and I think I've developed a fitting finale to the story. I hope very much than you'll get a kick out of the blend of both the first anime and Brotherhood combined into one. Anyway, I have four chapters written but my update schedule will be monthly like last time. After that, no promises as I'll work on three stories at once. At that, if you like Fairy Tail, be sure to try my other stories I've posted today. Enjoy and Review. Also, Dare to Be Silly.