Chapter 1: Checkmate

Central City, Amestris, 1922

General Roy Mustang marched down the Central Command Headquarters' corridors toward the Führer's office. To his left and a step behind, his adjutant Riza Hawkeye accompanied him upon his request. It wasn't completely certain, but they both knew what he had been called for. They walked in silence but a million things were running through their minds. There was a glint in his eyes, the hope of a dream about to come true.

"Do you think this is it?" he interrupted her stream of thoughts.

She smiled. "I would bet on it, sir."

"We have come a long way, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Yes."

They reached the wooden door. She stood with her back against the wall, hands folded and perfect soldier posture, but a soft expression on her face.

"If it is what we think, General, I'd like to invite you to a little celebration dinner."

He looked pleasantly surprised; she rarely suggested a reunion outside the workplace. But he knew what this was about. They deserved a moment of their own to contemplate what they had done so far. Years of hard work and sacrifice had finally gained their reward; or so it seemed.

"Sounds like a plan. Should I bring Snow?"

"Oh, Hayate would be thrilled."

He looked at her knowingly. "Then let's hope for the best."

Riza didn't care having to wait outside. Whether it was good news or bad news, she would be the first to know. Roy knocked firmly and a private opened the door. Three huge drachman matryoshka dolls in a corner of the room depicted the eccentricity of the old man sitting at the desk under the window. The General saluted him.

"Mustang! Come on in!" Grumman waved his hand in invitation before grabbing a folder from one of his assistants. "The documents have arrived."

"What documents, sir?" Roy asked as he approached him.

Grumman smirked. "Everyone else, get out," he ordered to the three people working around him. When they were left alone, Roy sat down and Grumman continued. "Why don't we play a game of chess as we talk?" He set the board on the desk before Roy had the time to answer.

"Our favorite game. Of course." Roy's pieces were black making his opponent the first to make a move.

"In six months from now, I'll retire."

Roy moved a pawn. "I'm aware of that, sir."

Grumman sighed. "It's not been easy at all to repair the mess that Bradley and his people left us with." A piece went forward.

"You have done an outstanding job, however. After Central City was restored and the trials for those involved in the plan of the immortal army ended, people felt safer because they saw your accomplishments. Many have changed their view on the military."

"There's still so much to be done, though. But I'm afraid I won't have the time."

"One man can't do it all. No matter our efforts there will always be issues of some kind. That's what rulers are for. Doing the best they can during the time of their leadership."

"Ah… at least the wars are over."

"The biggest improvement in over a hundred years. There will be whole chapters written about you in history and politics books."

"Anyone with the rank of Führer gets that, anyway."

There was a pause as they continued their game in concentration. Minutes passed before Grumman talked again. "I will decide today on my successor."

Roy smirked. "I trust you will make the best decision, then. How many candidates have you been considering?"

"After a few long meetings with the Parliament they have left upon me the final decision among three people. There's General Armstrong, for starters. I have never seen such commanding presence; she intimidates me like no one else, quite frankly," he confessed accommodating his glasses. "So imposing, devoted to duty and intelligent, I wonder what would become of Amestris with her at the top."

"It may become an expansion of Fort Briggs. Even with peace treatments we're still vulnerable to attack if for any reason a foreign country wanted to bring a war against us. General Armstrong would make sure nobody crossed the borderline and we'd be always safe from unexpected assaults."

"Very true, very true. She does deserve more recognition for her capabilities. However, I don't believe our people are ready to accept being ruled by that 'survival of the fittest' philosophy. They will need someone more charismatic and inspiring in whom they can fully trust."

Roy nodded. "Probably, sir."

The pieces kept moving along the board. "The other candidate is Lieutenant General Henry Douglas, the Commanding Officer in West City. Not a full General yet but I wasn't one either when I got this position. He has proved to be extremely hard working and pragmatic. Persevering, too."

"Sincerely, I do not have a liking for that man. He's severe and I don't doubt his intentions are for the good of the people, but after a number of rumors and complaints about his persona, I consider him to be quite… despicable."

Grumman raised an eyebrow in curious attention. "Explain yourself."

"I've heard he tends to pull rank, even on officers that are not under his command."

"I see."

"Also, my Lieutenant Colonel, specifically…" Grumman raised his eyes from the game to set them on Roy. "…commented on having received lascivious remarks from him."

Grumman lowered his head and his lenses shadowed. "Why is it the first time I hear of this?" Roy could almost hear Douglas' name being crossed off Grumman's mental candidate list.

"She refuses to take matters into her own hands or even collaborate with me about it. She considers it a waste of time."

Grumman shook his head in disapproval. "That attitude doesn't mean he can't be a good Führer, but it definitely won't take him far either." He took one of Roy's pieces out of the board. "I believe though only the best strategist should be worthy of this post."

Roy moved a rook. "What about your third candidate, sir?"

Grumman chuckled. "You know you're my favorite, Mustang. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." A white piece was moved. "Check."

The General freed his king. "But I did learn much of what I know from you. You earned this position yourself."

The Führer smiled. "This is not about favoritism, of course. But I would feel very inclined to choose you as my successor if you promised to take my granddaughter's hand in marriage."

Roy laughed. "Well, I can't promise you that, Grumman. It's not entirely up to me, she should have a say in this."

"Oh, but she's a smart woman; she wouldn't reject you."

"Checkmate."

"What?!" Grumman looked at the board. Indeed, Roy had just won the game. "Aaaah…" he scratched his head. "Well played, boy." Roy put the pieces back in the storage box as the older man took his notepad. "Your record is now 147 losses, 2 wins and 21 draws."

"It was a good game."

"Alright. I guess we'll both be very busy with paperwork the next few months."

"Aren't we always?"

"Oh, but this is different." Grumman took the folder of documents he had previously mentioned and passed it to Roy. "Would you help me by starting to sign these papers?"

Roy took a look at the first pages. He froze; his eyes opened wider and if there had been enough silence he could have heard his heart skipping a beat. He turned his attention back to Grumman. "…Sir?"

"Don't give me that look, Mustang. You were expecting this."

"But- but you said you hadn't decided yet. This is already settled," he refuted confused.

"I did say I would choose the best strategist, didn't I?" Roy didn't know how to respond anymore. He was completely transfixed. Grumman's face turned serious and his tone became that of no-nonsense. "Do you consider yourself both worthy and capable of leading this country?"

Roy straightened up. Indeed, this was the real deal. "I do."

"Then, there's nothing more to say." He opened a desk drawer and took out a gold fountain pen. "My granddaughter gave me this for my birthday; I use it for special occasions only. I believe your signature here would be a quite proper use of it," he said as he handed it to Roy. "In six months' time, Mustang, you will be promoted to the rank of Führer. Congratulations."

Riza waited patiently when she heard footsteps approaching her. A tall, blonde man with glasses walked to her and she saluted him.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye, tell me what's going on in there."

"It's a private meeting between Führer Grumman and General Mustang, sir."

"Oh, is it? Go back to work, then. Make yourself useful."

Riza glared at him but quickly concealed it. "I was ordered by General Mustang to wait here until he comes out, Lieutenant General." Roy hadn't really ordered her, but asked her, to wait for him. But she would not take idiotic orders from someone ranked lower than him.

"What are you, his dog?" he looked at the door for a moment to see if he could listen to what was going on inside, but nothing was heard except muffled sounds. "The Führer has asked me to come from Western Headquarters for important reasons. I'm telling you to leave; I'll take it from here. And if what you want is a chance of a faster promotion, you know where my desk is."

Her face darkened. She couldn't believe this man had the nerve to actually talk to her like that. "Excuse my forwardness, sir, but I find what you're suggesting absolutely offensive and-"

"And what exactly do you think I'm suggesting, Hawkeye?"

"Lieutenant Colonel?" Both heads turned to the one calling her. Roy had just come out of the office and heard the last part of their conversation. Henry Douglas saluted Roy; Roy didn't even mind to address him, talking to his adjutant instead. "Is everything alright?"

She knew he could see right through her, but she wasn't about to create a commotion in the middle of the hallway; by the Führer's office door, none the less. "Yes, sir."

"Then, we can go." Roy turned his back to them and Riza quickly followed him. "Lieutenant General Douglas," he said slightly turning to him. "I believe the Führer is expecting you."

"Yes, thank you," the blonde said.

As Roy and Riza walked away from him, the tension fell. He looked sideways at her and she was looking curiously back at him.

"What happened there?" he asked her.

"Nothing of importance."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. However… I believe you have some news to share, don't you, General?"

"Oh, I do have something to tell you…" he smiled. "That's some fine pen you gave to the Führer."

Riza stared at him confused; then it suddenly dawned on her. Roy hadn't seen her smile like that in a very long time.