Undercover
This is my first time, so don't be too hard on me, folks. I'm sorry, but this is kind of short, and it seems a bit rushed. I'll try to make the others longer, but there are no guarantees. Flames are accepted as long as it's constructive criticism, and not just telling me how I sucked. I got the idea for this story from the extra at the back of the manga volume 3. Enjoy…I hope.
Madwriterontheloose
Insert Standard Disclaimer Here: a.k.a. I don't own anything, 'cause if I did, do you think I'd waste my time writing this?
Chapter One: The Mission
"General Hakuro, you asked for us?" Roy Mustang inquired, his right hand up in a salute. He was flanked by his subordinates, Hawkeye, Breda, Fuery, Falman, and Havoc, each of them saluting as well. At General Hakuro's signal, they put their hands down.
"That is correct, Colonel Mustang," General Hakuro replied, seated comfortably behind his desk. "You may not have heard, but currently Amestris is suffering from a series of robberies and killings caused by various gangs. The Fuhrer has put me in charge of detaining them."
"Excuse me, sir, but why haven't you brought anyone in for questioning?" Hawkeye asked confused, "Surely you must have at least one suspect."
"That's true First Lieutenant Hawkeye," Hakuro responded, swiveling in his chair to face her, "However, the gangs have recently relocated, and are more difficult to find. Also, whenever we do capture someone, they somehow die before we're able to question them."
"That must be difficult, Sir," Havoc said sympathetically, his ever-present cigarette dangling in his mouth, "But what does this have to do with us?"
Hakuro smirked, and Roy reflected that he had probably been waiting for someone to ask that this whole time. "I've decided to send a team undercover to infiltrate the gangs and learn who their leader is. After all, they've never caused us this much trouble before, so someone moderately intelligent must be calling the shots. I have chosen to send you, Colonel Mustang, as well as First Lieutenant Hawkeye and Major Alex Louis Armstrong."
"Why only those three?" Breda asked, one red eyebrow raised.
"Major Armstrong has already been informed. As for why only those three," here Hakuro gazed at them questioningly, "isn't it obvious? Hawkeye is one of the best sharpshooters in the military. Armstrong possesses exceptional strength. And, of course, Colonel Mustang is a war hero! They're a perfect team. So, will you do it?"
Roy somehow felt they couldn't refuse. But he hesitated, unsure. Hakuro noticed the pause, and his gaze hardened.
Or, instead of asking you nicely, I can order you as your superior officer. It's your choice."
"Yes," Roy decided, "We'll do it." He didn't bother asking Hawkeye, because he knew that wherever he went, she would follow.
"Good," Hakuro seemed pleased, and he leaned back in his chair. "Dismissed."
Roy had to bit his lip to keep from yelling obscenities as Hakuro focused his attention to the neat stack of paperwork on his desk. Roy opened his mouth to say something-but then swiveled around and stalked out of the room. He walked quickly down the hall, his subordinates following.
"Anything wrong, Sir?" Hawkeye asked, eyes staring straight ahead.
"No," Roy sighed, slowing down, "He's sending us on this mission to help himself. If we fail, he'll say he expected a 'war hero' to be able to solve this, and he'll need someone better. That will look great on my record when they chose who's going to be promoted. If we succeed, he'll take the credit and boost his reputation, since he's the one who choose us."
"But Sir," Fuery put in, fiddling with his glasses nervously, "Why didn't he chose a different war hero? I'm sure there are plenty. So why you?"
"I worry him," Roy said simply. "He thinks that I'll take his position. What he doesn't know is that I'm aiming much higher than just 'general.' I'm going to be the Fuhrer."
"Who knows," Havoc shrugged as Fuery unlocked the door, and they stepped into their office, "Maybe someday you will be."
"Right!" Breda said eagerly, "And then-the miniskirts!"
"Ah, Colonel," a loud voice boomed, "Just the man I wanted to see!"
"Hello, Major Armstrong," Hawkeye said calmly, Roy and the others had stopped, shocked.
"How did you get in here?!" Breda sputtered, "I know we locked up before we left!" Falman forlornly pointed to a shattered window. "Hey, we have to pay for that!" As Armstrong and Breda got into a heated argument, with Fuery, Havoc, and Falman placing bets on the winner, Hawkeye turned to the Colonel.
"Sir, since you'll be leaving, I think it would be wise to finish your paperwork. You've been falling behind." Although on the surface it sounded like she was merely giving helpful advice, Roy knew that if he didn't finish he'd have to face the consequences. And he felt that it was relatively easier to do his horrid paperwork at his own luxury, instead of scribbling furiously at gunpoint. Darn that Hakuro, He thought, letting out a huge sigh, I was sure I'd be able to put it off for another month! Now I won't be able to go on one last date before the mission! And it was with Ms. Josephine, too! Despondently, he turned to Armstrong, only to catch sight of a triumphant Falman as Havoc and Fuery forked over their money, and an upset Breda.
"He quit as soon as he saw the Major about to rip his shirt off," Havoc sniggered. Breda growled at him.
"So, what brings you here, Major?" Roy asked. Armstrong beamed, pink sparklies shining around his head. I never did figure out how he did that, Roy realized absently, Where do those pink sparkles come from? Is it some kind of alchemical trick?
"I just thought you might have some pre-mission jitters," Armstrong explained happily, "And I have come to instill confidence!" Armstrong instantly ripped his shirt off and flexed his muscles, "Doesn't this just make you swell with confidence!? Doesn't it make you feel safe?! Look at these wonderful muscles! LOOK!"
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Breda groaned, running for the bathroom. Roy secretly wished he could do the same.
"Err… Thank you, Armstrong," Roy stuttered, creeped out, "That was very…kind of you." Kind, Havoc thought, amused, that's not the word I would use.
"I know!" Armstrong grabbed Roy in a huge bear hug, tears streaming down his face. "I only wish to repay you for all the kindness you have shown others!"
"Gahhh…." Roy felt his back crack in three different places. He desperately looked around for help.
"Major Armstrong," Hawkeye said softly, "I would suggest you put the colonel down, lest you mortally wound him."
"Sorry Sir," Armstrong hastily put him down, "Sometimes I don't know my own strength!" He laughed. "Oh, right, Sir, I was wondering; do you have any idea what you're going to wear for the mission?" Roy blinked.
"We have to…dress up…"
"Sir, isn't that obvious?" Hawkeye asked, "It's not like they'll let uniformed officers into their midst."
"Umm… Do they have to act like gang members too?" Fuery asked as Havoc, Falman, and a miraculously healed Breda tried to stifle sniggers. Roy made a face.
"Of course!" Armstrong boomed, "But no worries! The skill of the theater has been passed down for generations in the Armstrong family!" Hawkeye looked horrified.
"Act…"
"Great," Roy groaned, slumping into his chair. This was going to be one heck of a mission, that's for sure.
And so, for better or worse, their adventure had begun.
Chapter One-End
So, so, how was that?! Did I do good, did I, did I? Please Tell Me! TELL ME NOW! Oh, yeah, remember, Read and Review! If you don't, you'll have one mad writer on the loose! And I don't mean mad like crazy, I mean mad like MAD. Although I called myself mad like crazy, which is why I'm called madwriterontheloose… I dunno, but my brain is starting to hurt. TT CURE ME BY REVIEWING!!!!
Next Chapter
Roy, Hawkeye, and Armstrong have to pick out outfits! But, what does a gangster wear, anyway? And how are they supposed to find out where the gangs are hiding, when not even General Hakuro knows? It's kind of hard to work undercover when you don't even know where the enemy is! What is our favorite team to do? Find out in the next chapter, Picking and Choosing!