Chapter Two:

Three weeks after the Voltron adventure…

It had taken Mustang three weeks to finally catch up on all of the paperwork that had accumulated while he and Edward had been in space assisting with the overthrow of the Galra Empire. He had been staying at the office late into the evening – sometimes not leaving until nearly ten p.m. as well as coming in an hour early each morning in order to catch up – since in addition to the paperwork that had piled up during his absence, there was still the additional paperwork that crossed his desk every single day. While most of it just had to be read and signed off on so that the reports could officially be filed, there were other parts that required specific actions to be taken in response: requisitions to fill, formal responses to be composed and sent back, mission briefings to create…there were some days where it seemed to be never ending. On top of the paperwork, of course, he regularly had meetings scheduled with other members of Führer Grumman's high command, State Alchemists to meet with and assign missions to, meetings with the officers and citizens aiding him with his self-appointed mission of assisting the Ishvalans with the restoration efforts of their holy land…

He'd set a routine for himself. He would work on the accumulated paperwork from the time he came into the office in the morning until lunchtime, except during the times when he had to be in one of the various meetings he was responsible for attending now. He was relying on Hawkeye to prioritise the reports for him to make sure that the most critical ones got reviewed and dealt with first. Then he'd have a brief lunch break before tackling the paperwork that had been sent to him that day, not leaving the office until it was done, no matter how late into the evening he was required to stay, even after everyone else on his team, including Hawkeye, had left for the day. He was always careful to leave it neatly stacked and organised on Captain Hawkeye's desk before he left for the night, knowing just how close she had been to shooting him when he and Edward had gotten back. He wasn't willing to risk pushing her past the edge of her patience and causing her to put a bullet hole in him by complaining or missing even one piece of paper, so he kept his head down and worked his fingers to the bone.

When the final morning of playing catch up had finally arrived, he nearly cheered as he signed his name to the last form with a flourish before taking the pile to Hawkeye for her to send it to whomever it needed to go to before treating himself to an early lunch for a change. He left the office and headed to one of his favourite restaurants, which was only two blocks from Central Command. It was a small café that he and Maes had enjoyed frequenting together on the semi-rare occasions when his work had brought him to Central during the time he'd been assigned to East City.

After paying for his meal, he headed back into the office and, due to a lack of meetings for the remainder of the morning, even managed to get in a quick nap while the rest of his team members were taking their lunch breaks. Hawkeye's entrance into his inner office with a stack of fresh paperwork for the day woke him and he took it without complaint. When she didn't leave immediately, he stopped in the middle of the act of reaching for his pen and looked up at her with curiosity. "Is something wrong, Captain?"

"I thought you would want to know, sir. Captain Chase Bryce was found dead in an alleyway near The Amestrian on Port Street. The unofficial reports say that the coroner is tentatively ruling it an accidental death since the man had reportedly been inebriated the previous night and there's evidence of a head wound. It appears he stepped out for a cigarette, knocked himself out by falling over, and the lit cigarette either ignited his clothing or a spilled puddle of alcohol nearby," Hawkeye stated.

Mustang was silent for a moment as he considered the report. "That's a bit of a strange coincidence," he said finally. Hawkeye raised a brow in curiosity, so he elaborated. "I've known Bryce since our academy days, but we've never gotten along. But last night while I was on my way home, I decided to stop at The Amestrian for a drink. I saw Bryce while I was there. He was harassing one of the barmaids, so I intervened and told him to knock it off. He recognised me and tried to start a fight, but I ignored him. The bouncer finally had to come and throw him out because he got too rowdy. I left about a half hour after that, but I never saw or smelled anything."

Hawkeye hummed thoughtfully. "That is an unusual coincidence. Do you want me to reach out to the investigator in charge to let them know you had an altercation with Bryce the night he died, sir?"

Mustang shook his head. "No. The investigator should be the one to reach out, and if he or she is doing their job properly, they will."

Hawkeye gave a sharp nod. "Very well, sir." She indicated the stack of paperwork she had just handed him. "Those are the most recent requisition forms and reports coming back from Major Miles and the rest of the restoration team in Ishval. They need to be finished by tonight."

Mustang nodded to dismiss her and she snapped off a crisp salute before turning on her heel and heading out of his private office towards her desk in the outer office, pulling the door closed in her wake. Mustang sighed and pulled the new pile closer towards him. One more afternoon of aching fingers and he'd be able to go back to his routine from before he and Edward had gone to aid the Paladins of Voltron, including being able to continue his alchemic research.

He was deep into the most recent report from Major Miles when a knock on the door brought him back to the present a few hours later. He blinked a few times before he refocused his attention. "Enter."

Hawkeye pushed the door open and saluted, moving into parade rest when he waved a hand at her. "My apologies for disturbing you sir, but Lieutenant Colonel Charlie Brookes from Investigations is requesting a few minutes of your time. His request is related to the death of Captain Bryce."

Mustang placed Miles' report back on his desk and nodded. "Admit him, Captain." She nodded sharply and left the door open as she turned back to the outer office and gestured for someone to approach. Mustang rose to his feet and rounded his desk to meet the lieutenant colonel in the center of the room.

Brookes was a little shorter than average height with brown hair cut close to his head and brown eyes. He wasn't the type one normally thought of when one pictured a soldier, but his overall demeanor and way of carrying himself did suit his role as an investigator, and Mustang had heard enough through the military grapevine to know that he was extremely competent where his job was concerned.

He had met Charlie Brookes just after Mustang and his team had been assigned to Central Command following the death of Maes Hughes. Brookes was only a couple of years younger than Mustang himself, but he had a more nervous demeanor than Hughes ever had. Brookes had just been promoted to lieutenant colonel and had immediately sought Mustang out to offer his condolences about Maes and to inform them that he had been ordered to take over Maes' position in the Investigations department. When Mustang had asked why he was bothering to tell him news that would undoubtedly reach him in a matter of days, Brookes had simply stated that if he had been the one in Mustang's place, he would want the person who would be his taking over his best friend's job to be the one to tell him himself. That level of courtesy and integrity had impressed Mustang.

"Lieutenant Colonel Brookes," Mustang greeted as the officer saluted him. "It's good to see you again."

He nodded at Hawkeye, who left the office, pulling the door closed as she went. He offered a hand to Brookes, which was accepted and shaken by the younger officer, before indicating the couches in the center of the room. "What can I do for you?"

Brookes moved over to one of the couches, leaving Mustang to take the other one so that they were facing each other across the coffee table. "I'm leading up the investigation into the death of Captain Chase Bryce. I'm sure you've been informed of the discovery of his body by now?" Mustang nodded. "While we're still waiting for the coroner's official autopsy report to be released, the working theory is that the man was very inebriated, went into the alley behind The Amestrian, tripped over something when he lit a cigarette, knocked himself out and the lit cigarette ignited some spilled alcohol on his clothing. Since he was unconscious and no one was out there with him, he burned to death."

He noted the flash of pity and something else in Mustang's eyes. Something dark, or possibly horror? It was gone faster than he could decipher what he had just seen.

"While that is an unfortunate way to go, I'm not entirely sure what you're here for," Mustang replied. "Bryce wasn't a State Alchemist, nor was he a part of the team whose efforts to assist the Ishvalans I am overseeing. He wasn't within my circle of acquaintances or a member of my chain of command."

Brookes nodded. "I'm aware of that, General. Until the coroner makes his ruling definite, we have to assume this was a suspicious death and investigate accordingly, as I'm sure you're already aware." Mustang dipped his chin in acknowledgement. He was well aware of how Investigations proceeded on every case that came to them, thanks to his long friendship with Hughes. "We interviewed several people who were in The Amestrian last night, and most of them indicated that you and Bryce had had an altercation. Would you tell me about that?"

Mustang felt a small surge of pride at being proven right. "Of course, Lieutenant Colonel. Four weeks ago I was forced to take sick leave when I was affected by a virus that both I and my subordinate Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist caught. When I returned from my leave, I was quite far behind on my paperwork, so I've been working late every night to get caught up, including last night. I'd finished last night at ten-fifteen and was the last one to leave the office, and I decided to grab a nightcap or two from The Amestrian since it was on my way home. I believe I entered the establishment at some point between ten-thirty and ten-forty-five p.m. I had my first drink and had just ordered a second when I noticed Bryce."

Brookes noted how the general's eyes glazed over slightly as he recalled the order of the events. He pulled out his notepad and began making notes about the general's statement.

"He was trying to pick up one of the barmaids, but she was very clearly not interested in him. He was refusing to accept her rejection and was harassing her. She moved past him to return to the bar once she had delivered her tray of drinks when he grabbed her arm and started to yell at her. I believe I heard him call her a 'dirty whore', which was when I intervened."

"What happened next?" Brookes asked, eyes flicking up to meet Mustang's before focusing back on his notepad. So far, everything that the general had said had been confirmed by their other eyewitnesses.

"Well, he didn't take my interference very well, especially once he recognised me. We attended the military academy together, you see. We never got along there either. I believe that he was of the opinion that I thought I was better than the other soldiers in our class because I am an alchemist. I wasn't the only alchemist in our group, but I was the most powerful, and I think he believed that I was getting special treatment because of it. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but I paid no mind to the rumors since I didn't think much of him personally. Trust me when I say that the way he treated the barmaid last night was not uncommon behaviour for him," Mustang replied. "I told him to knock his behaviour off since the lady wasn't interested in him or I would have to put him on report for conduct unbecoming of an officer. His response was to tell me to fuck off, or at least that's what I think he was saying. He wasn't very coherent at that point. He slurred some more insults at me, and then took a swing at me when I didn't react to his words. He missed by a mile, but it was enough for the bouncer to get involved and throw him out. I believe that was around eleven-fifteen or so. I had my second drink and left a few minutes later after settling my tab and checking on the waitress. I was back at home by eleven-forty."

Brookes nodded as he jotted the information down. "And you didn't see, hear, or smell anything unusual when you left the tavern?"

Mustang shook his head. "No. I'll admit that I had expected Bryce to be outside when I left, but he wasn't, so I assumed that he'd either stumbled off home or found his way to another pub. Even though I would have been well within my rights to put him on report as I'd told him I would, I decided not to since no one was actually hurt in the altercation. I didn't see any flames or hear anything out of the ordinary, nor did I smell anything. I'm far more familiar with the smell of a burning body than anyone should be, after all."

Brookes winced slightly at the subtle mention of the Ishvalan Civil War. He hadn't been involved in that particular conflict since he'd joined the military the year it ended, but that didn't mean that he was unaware of what had happened or General Mustang's involvement. He wondered if that could explain the other expression he'd seen in Mustang's eye when he'd described Bryce's death. Bad memories, Brookes decided. It just has to be bad memories.

After the Promised Day, the new Führer, the former Lieutenant General Grumman, had declassified thousands of documents related to the Ishvalan Civil War in order for the surviving members of Bradley's high command to be properly prosecuted. It didn't take long for the truth about what had really happened in Ishval to spread among the military, and if it wasn't for an agreement between the Ishvalans and the new Führer, there most likely would have been hundreds of court-martials to process relating to war crimes committed during the Civil War. Instead, with the acceptance and agreement of the Ishvalans, all of the still-living State Alchemists and many of the other soldiers who had been involved in the War had received full pardons – which included Brigadier General Mustang.

"Alright. I think that's all I need to know." Brookes stood up as he spoke, tucking his notepad away in his jacket pocket. "Thank you for your time, General Mustang." Brookes stretched out his hand and Mustang grasped it tightly.

"You're welcome, Lieutenant Colonel. Please let me know if you need to ask any more questions or need me to sign a formal statement. Best of luck in your investigation."

Brookes saluted before leaving the inner office, and Mustang moved back to his desk. He didn't return to Miles' report, however, instead leaning back in his leather chair thoughtfully. He heard Brookes bid farewell to the rest of his team and the outer door into the corridor open and then shut again. With a sigh he shifted back into an upright position and was just reaching for his pen when Hawkeye entered his office once more, although this time he knew why.

He waited for her to approach his desk before looking up at her and raising a silent brow. She gave him a flat look and he sighed before leaning back in his chair and twirling his pen in between his fingers. "Brookes just needed my statement about what happened between myself and Captain Bryce last night. The coroner hasn't made his ruling yet, though he's suggesting that it could be an accident. Some of the other patrons in the bar last night told Brookes about our altercation and he needed to follow up."

"Very well. Don't forget that the paperwork still needs to be done today, sir." Hawkeye said before coming to attention with a salute and taking her leave. Mustang sighed forcefully through his nose, but returned his attention to the pile of paperwork in front of him.


Just over two weeks later, a report reached Mustang's office that a major named Colin Pardi had been found murdered and his corpse burned. Mustang received word mainly because Pardi had been a State Alchemist and thus fell indirectly under Mustang's command. Since being promoted to brigadier general, he had been serving as the second-in-command of the State Alchemist program under Major General Bernard Andrews.

Hawkeye had brought the report to him at the same time she had entered his office to let him know that Edward was in the office to report in on one of the many smaller missions that Mustang had been assigning him around Central – mainly assisting the MPs with some of their ongoing cases. Normally the State Alchemists and the MPs were two completely separate branches, but Edward's skills in combat and alchemy made him a valuable asset when it came to helping to apprehend large groups or violent offenders that normally wouldn't fall under the purview of the field alchemists. If Mustang didn't have a mission for him outside of Central, Edward tended to just keep himself available to assist the MPs, and spent the rest of his time doing alchemic research with Alphonse or helping Gracia Hughes care for Elysia.

Edward entered Mustang's office as Mustang was reading over the report on Pardi's death. "You've got another mission for me, bastard?"

Mustang just rolled his eyes. "No, this isn't related to you. It's a report on the death of another State Alchemist last night – he was found burned in an alley behind a bar he tended to frequent. His name was Major Colin Pardi, the Fortifying Alchemist."

Edward frowned. "I don't think I've met him, but that name sounds familiar."

"His specialty was in creating and strengthening structures made of earth and stone," Mustang observed. "He was likely selected by Bradley to assist with building fortifications for our military if another war had broken out with Aerugo, Creta, or Drachma. From the records, it looks like he was the last State Alchemist that Bradley appointed before the Promised Day, but Führer Grumman sent him out to Ishval right after the Promised Day as a sign of good faith that we were willing to help with the rebuilding. He thought that Pardi would be better suited to helping create homes for all the displaced Ishvalans."

"Huh." Edward crossed his arms over his chest and allowed his chin to drop as he thought. His golden bangs fell forward to cover his eyes for several seconds as Mustang finished reading the report and set it aside, before his head suddenly snapped up. "Wait, I know where I've heard that name before. Scar wrote to me about him!" He dug into the pocket of his red coat and pulled out the battered journal where he kept his research notes. He flipped the book open to a page in the middle and pulled out a folded letter from where it had been sandwiched between the pages. He unfolded it and began skimming through it, apparently searching for something.

Mustang still wasn't used to the fact that Edward was willingly corresponding with the redeemed serial killer who had once been dead-set on killing him. Even stranger was the fact that the alchemist and the Ishvalan seemed to be on the path to actually becoming friends and not just tentative allies fighting together for a mutual benefit.

Edward made a victorious sound and brought the letter over and pointed to a particular spot on the second page. "Here; Scar wanted me to pass along the gratitude of the Ishvalan elders and himself to Pardi, Andrews, and Grumman for sending Pardi out to aid in the rebuilding."

Mustang took the letter and read the paragraph that Edward had indicated.

"In addition, Edward, please pass on my thanks to Führer Grumman for sending Major Pardi out to aid us. Due to his efforts, the vast majority of my people have been resettled in safe, comfortable homes again and we can devote our attention to rebuilding our markets, temples, and other public buildings. Despite my personal feelings about the man, we cannot deny his talent or the fact that without his aid it would likely have taken a least a decade just to get our people resettled."

"What does he mean by, 'despite my personal feelings about the man'?" Mustang asked as he passed the letter back to his subordinate without reading any further, despite his desire to know what else Edward wrote to the redeemed serial killer about.

"Based on the last few letters he sent me before we fought the Galra, it seems like Pardi was alright to start with, but as he learned more and more about what had actually happened in Ishval and witnessed the destruction himself, he became more and more aggravated about the events. Scar said it was like he was personally offended by what had happened. At first, he thought Pardi was just upset that someone had managed to orchestrate events to manipulate two races to wipe each other out, but then he told me that Pardi was especially upset when he learned that the Ishvalans had agreed to the pardons." Ed said, taking the letter, folding it up and putting it back in his journal.

"Why would Pardi care? He wasn't even a State Alchemist when the war was going on." Mustang asked.

Edward leaned his hip against the edge of Mustang's desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "I got the impression that it was like he refused to believe that the Ishvalans would forgive Amestris after everything that happened, even though we were manipulated and the Ishvalans now have a treaty with Amestris that is heavily in their favour. In the end, Scar and a few of the elders had to ask Pardi to stop ranting about how the Ishvalans should be trying to get justice, that the pardons were nothing but an insult, and they should demand an equal blood payment. Scar said that's why he was sent back to Central. The Ishvalan elders were worried that his rhetoric might inflame their people again and either cause them to attack him or stir up the old animosities."

That was when Mustang recalled where he knew the man's name from. During the time when he and Edward had been assisting the Paladins of Voltron, Pardi had returned to Amestris and had been causing a major problem with his protests about Ishval. He had demanded that Mustang and the others who had fought alongside him in Ishval be imprisoned for war crimes. He'd been disciplined by Andrews for the stir he was causing, but the disciplinary action had only caused him to yell louder and become more fervent in his rhetoric every time he was reminded that the pardons had been issued with the Ishvalans' consent since the whole war had been a set-up, orchestrated by the same group that had been behind the Promised Day. Due to the disciplinary action against him, he was off active duty as a State Alchemist for the time being, so Mustang had never interacted with him.

Edward had picked up the report on Pardi's death. "It's weird though," he muttered as his golden eyes raked over the report hungrily.

"What is?" Mustang asked and the blond alchemist gave him an incredulous look in response.

"Two fire related deaths in less than three weeks? Both of them military and found in an alley behind a bar? That's weird."

Mustang was momentarily confused before he remembered Bryce. "I won't argue that it's odd, but if the deaths were connected, Lieutenant Colonel Brookes would've put the two together by now. Besides, Captain Bryce's death was ruled an accidental death caused by an unfortunate string of events."

"It's still weird," Ed huffed as Mustang reclaimed the report on Pardi's death and made a note to have the man removed from the list of active State Alchemists and to have someone clean out his personal belongings and ensure that his death benefits were paid to any surviving family members. "So, anyway, why am I actually here?" Ed asked as he straightened up.

"New mission for you. Read the report and tell me what you need," Mustang told him, handing him the appropriate file and pointing towards the couch.

In typical fashion, Ed harrumphed at him, his eyes glazing over suddenly – a sign Mustang knew meant he was talking to the Lions, a fact he still couldn't believe Ed could do, especially because of the dimensional barrier – before grinning humorously and slouching down in his favourite position on the couch and delving into the contents of the file as Mustang used the quiet to get a few more papers read and signed.

Mustang would be the first to admit that he hadn't really believed Ed when he'd first announced that he was still connected to the five Lions when they'd arrived back in Amestris, but he knew it was true. Ed wouldn't have the patience to keep up with a joke for as long as this and there were signs, like his eyes glazing over whenever he spoke to the Lions, or when he passed along a message from one of the Lions or the Paladins to Mustang that verified the younger alchemist's claims.

Personally, Mustang was glad that Edward had the Lions' support, especially after the way that Edward had killed Haggar with his automail blade. The younger alchemist had been even more distraught in the wake of the witch's death than he had been after assisting in the death of Harding back in America, so the fact that the Lions were there to comfort, tease, and support him was reassuring. He just hoped that Edward would accept their help where he might not accept the help of Alphonse, Gracia, or his commanding officer. Overall, he'd been seeing increasing signs of maturity from Edward since their return from assisting the Lions and their Paladins, and that was something that he welcomed whole-heartedly.


Lieutenant Colonel Charlie Brookes sighed as he walked into the alley to investigate another burned body. This one was the third found, only twelve days after the second one, and he felt like his gut instinct that these three cases were connected and that the death of Bryce had been incorrectly ruled as an accident and was, in fact, this killer's first victim had just been proven correct. He directed his team to collect and photograph evidence, talk to potential witnesses and the owners and workers in the businesses surrounding the area to see if they'd heard anything. The burnt remains of the blue military uniform told him that he was looking at another soldier and he couldn't help but wonder if the killer was simply taking out military men.

He shook his head as the coroner arrived and after a few moments accepted the wallet and identification handed to him. "Colonel James Summers," Brookes read aloud. "Forty-seven years old, male."

"I'll get him back to the morgue and let you know my findings when I make them," the coroner told him and Brookes nodded, allowing the man's assistant through so the two could wrap the body and load it into the coroner's vehicle. Brookes sighed as he watched the car pull away and continued helping his men process where the body had been lying.


Once he was back at his little office, he immediately pulled up Colonel Summers' personnel file and poured over it. Summers had been assigned to Central Command since his first year in the military, except for a few years when he'd been in Ishval near the end of the Civil War. He had joined when he'd been seventeen and had been steadily working his way up the ranks ever since, having received his last promotion two years before the Promised Day. Summers' mother was still alive, although his father had passed away six months ago after a brief, but intense battle with lung cancer. Brookes sighed, knowing that he'd have to go and break the news about her son's murder to the elderly woman and he allowed himself to feel a pang of sympathy for the worst news that she would probably ever receive.

An hour later found Brookes at the front door of the small, sturdy, but tidy home and he raised his fist to knock. He could hear the quick-paced shuffling and small huffs of breath before the door opened and he came face-to-face with Mrs. Summers' smiling face. The smile dimmed a little when she didn't recognise him immediately, but she didn't look concerned. After all, military officers were a common sight in Amestris, but especially so in Central City.

"May I help you, officer?" she asked.

"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Charlie Brookes, ma'am. I'm here about your son, Colonel James Summers. May I come in?" Brookes asked and she nodded, opening the door wider to permit him entrance as her eyes took in the rank insignia on his uniform and he saw a brief flash of fear before she steeled herself.

She didn't say a word and Brookes could see her eyes begin to water as she followed his suggestion to sit down. He took a deep breath and broke the bad news, feeling his heart clench as he said the formal words. "I'm very sorry to have to be the one to tell you, ma'am, but we found your son dead this morning. We believe he was murdered."

There was a moment of stunned silence before the woman broke into heart-wrenching, wailing sobs. Brookes sat quietly; waiting for the woman to get some control over herself so she could ask the question he knew would be coming.

"W-who? Who would m-murder my s-son?" she asked, her sobs slowing enough for her to form a coherent sentence.

Brookes shook his head. "We don't know yet, ma'am. It's too early in our investigation to have any definite answers. I was hoping that you would be able to tell me if your son had any significant enemies or conflicts that we should know about. Was there anyone whom he didn't get along with or was there someone he had recently had a major argument with?"

Mrs. Summers rubbed at her eyes as she thought over his questions. The tears never stopped rolling down her cheeks. "I don't know much about his life in the military. His father and I were never very supportive of his career choice. We didn't oppose him joining, but we didn't encourage him either, so he never told us much. We were worried about him when he was posted out in Ishval during the Civil War, but other than writing us a few letters that let us know he was still alive and would be home soon, he didn't really say much about what he was doing for the military." Her tone was apologetic, even through her tears. "I know that he had been complaining a couple of months ago about a young colonel being promoted to brigadier general. James felt the fact that the colonel was already being made a general when he was barely thirty was a sign of favouritism on the part of Führer Grumman."

"Did he say anything about why he believed this was a sign of favouritism?" Brookes asked with his notepad and pen at the ready.

"James enlisted when he was seventeen and he's been working his way through the ranks towards a leadership position. He didn't feel that it was fair for someone so young and inexperienced to have that level of authority and that the only reason he received the promotion was because the colonel is a State Alchemist and has another famous State Alchemist as his subordinate. James also believed that Führer Grumman has been playing favourites since his granddaughter is also a subordinate under the new general's command." She sniffed again and reached for a box of tissues. Brookes was quick to pass the box over to her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Summers. That information will help us. Is there anyone you'd like me to call for you?" Brookes asked, but the elderly lady shook her head. "I'll leave my name and number for you to call if you remember anything else or need anything else. Please, don't hesitate to call, day or night." Brookes stood and moved over to the phone, where he left one of his cards. He put his hat back on and moved towards the door, a little startled when she rose to her feet and walked him over to the door. "Someone from the military will be in touch soon to help with making funeral arrangements. Based on what I saw in his file, your son will be buried with full honours and receive a proper send off. I am very sorry for your loss, ma'am," he added as he stepped over the threshold. He heard the door click softly behind him and the slow shuffle of her feet as the woman made her way across her worn, wooden floors back to her couch.

Brookes heaved a sigh as he made his way back to his waiting car. He got into the vehicle, started the engine, and pulled away from the Summers' home. This was the third victim found killed in the same way in just under a month. Brookes was now convinced that Bryce was a victim and not a random accident. The coincidences were too great to ignore. All three were found dead in an alleyway, all three were burned with no obvious signs of an accelerant or ignition point, and the coroner had yet to get his test results back on the charred material of their clothing. All three were mid-to-high ranking officers in the military, and all three were men. But the biggest clincher was the fact that all three had some kind of issue or problem with Brigadier General Mustang.

Brookes shook his head. There was no way that Mustang was the person behind these attacks, as the actual killer or the orchestrator. The man was a decorated war hero twice over, and from everything that Brookes had heard about him, well-liked and respected. While it was true that he had a bit of a reputation for being a womanizer, Brookes hadn't seen anything in his record to make him believe that Mustang had ever abused his position or used his rank to take advantage of a woman. All of the victims to this point were below him in rank, so unless they had had concrete evidence of some nefarious action by Mustang, their grumbling and complaining wouldn't have been any threat to him and would simply have been taken as jealousy or an attempt to foster dissent in the ranks.

After all, why would Mustang risk his career, reputation, and freedom killing three men who had what amounted to personality conflicts with him, all factors considered? Brookes shook his head to clear it once more. No, this had nothing to do with Mustang. It was far more likely that the victims had all been chosen simply because they were military men.


As he pulled his car into his parking space, Brookes turned the things he had learned about James Summers over in his head. He made his way to his office, nodding to the soldiers that he passed along the way, but not stopping to acknowledge them any further. Each detail or fact of the three murders was trying to swarm to the front of his mind's eye, making connections between random bits of information for him to consider or dismiss. The one thing that kept coming back to the forefront of his mind was the connection to Mustang each of the victims had, however.

He made it to his office and entered, nodding to his team as he walked through to his desk. He paused near Sheska's desk. After his promotion to fill Brigadier General Hughes' spot, he'd met with her and offered her the opportunity to remain in her position as his secretary despite the fact that she wasn't military, and she'd accepted the offer gratefully, afraid that Hughes' death meant she might not get to keep her job and would be forced to move her mother out of the hospital she was in. Sheska passed him all the messages he had accumulated during his absence and he thanked her before entering his office and sitting at his desk with a sigh.

Most of the messages were ones he'd been expecting. A call from the coroner's office to say that he'd arrived back at the morgue with Summers' body and was scheduling an autopsy. Several messages from soldiers who were out following up leads for him and his team had called back to say that none of the leads had panned out or had resulted in similar answers to what their investigation into Pardi's death had come up with. Rubbing his temples, Brookes leaned into his hands, resting his elbows on his desk and just breathing for a few moments before organising his thoughts.

The first thing he did once he'd gotten his thoughts in order was call the coroner back and ask him to double check his findings on Bryce's death to make certain it wasn't connected to Pardi or Summers. Once the man had agreed to do so – even if he sounded slightly offended that his ruling was being questioned – Brookes had moved on to writing a new report for the generals who were part of the new high command structure. He needed their permission to pursue this as a serial killer rather than as three unconnected deaths.

He made mention of everything he had dug up so far that connected the victims, which was admittedly not that much. They were all military, all men, and all of them had a problem with Brigadier General Mustang in some way. He didn't want to put Mustang's name in the report at all, but he knew how much backlash the investigation – or lack thereof – into Second Lieutenant Maria Ross had garnered and he didn't want his investigation to suffer because he refused to put Mustang's name in the report based solely on the fact that he personally didn't believe the brigadier general had anything to do with the deaths.

After he'd submitted the report, he decided to take his own initiative and proceed as though the generals had given him permission and thought about what his next step should be. Reluctantly, he came to the conclusion that for now he needed to pursue the most obvious link that connected all three victims – Brigadier General Mustang. Sighing, he picked up his phone and dialed Mustang's office.

The line rang twice before being picked up. "Brigadier General Mustang's office, this is Captain Hawkeye speaking. How may I assist you?"

"Captain Hawkeye, this is Lieutenant Colonel Brookes with Investigations. If possible, I would like to schedule a meeting with the brigadier general to follow up with him on my investigation into the deaths of Captain Chase Bryce, Major Colin Pardi, and Colonel James Summers. Would he be available today? I don't believe I'll need more than an hour of his time."

"One moment please while I check the general's schedule and request a meeting. Please hold."

"Of course." He heard her set the receiver down on the desk and then there was silence for about two minutes.

"Lieutenant Colonel Brookes, the brigadier general has informed me that he will be free in about an hour and he would be happy to meet with you before he goes to lunch. Would that be acceptable?"

"That would be ideal, Captain. Please let the general know that I'll see him in one hour and give him my thanks."

The captain acknowledged his request and the call disconnected. Hanging up the phone, Brookes set to work. He prioritised the list of questions that he knew he would need to ask the brigadier general, sent Sheska down to the personnel archives to pull the files on all three victims and their complaints against the brigadier general to make sure he had all the facts straight, and set his team to work compiling all the information they'd been able to acquire. For the next half hour he ran down any leads he could from his office and checked in on his team's progress.

Once he'd passed the time he needed to, he left his office and headed for the upper levels of Central Command and the brigadier general's office. The walk was quiet and peaceful, just what he needed before meeting with Mustang. He wasn't ashamed to admit that the slightly older man made him nervous, mainly because he respected him and his abilities and he knew how his questions would likely be taken.

He knocked on the outer door before pushing it open. It seemed as if Mustang's entire staff was there and they all looked up as he entered. While they were all friendly and greeted him warmly, there was an undercurrent of tension in the room. He approached Captain Hawkeye's desk and she rose to her feet and offered him a respectful salute before she moved to the door to the general's private office. Rapping sharply on the door, she waited until he called for her to enter.

Moments later, she returned and indicated that he could enter. Brookes steeled his nerves and entered through the door. The general was sitting at his desk, reading a document. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel Brookes. Please, take a seat. I'll be with you in a moment," he directed without lifting his eyes from the paper in front of him.

Brookes took a seat on the same couch where he had the last time he'd been in this office, and a minute later Mustang was signing the paper with a flourish. "Captain Hawkeye?" he called.

She was at the door so promptly that Brookes almost wondered if she had been waiting for her name. "Yes, sir?"

"You may take these and see to it that they're distributed to the appropriate departments," Mustang told her, handing her the stack of papers he'd just been working on. "If Major General Andrews calls and asks where the requisition forms he was waiting on are, let him know that he'll have them within two hours."

"Yes sir." Hawkeye took the offered papers and left the office, closing the door as she exited.

Mustang stood and rounded his desk to take a seat on the opposite couch. "What do you need to know, Lieutenant Colonel?"

Brookes removed his notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped to a blank page. "I'm sure you've been notified about the deaths of Major Pardi and Colonel Summers by now?" Mustang nodded with a grim expression on his face. "My team has been digging for anything that could connect the two of them, but unfortunately the only things connecting their deaths are three simple facts: they were military officers, they were men, and they weren't fans of yours and were vocal about their dislike."

Mustang looked contemplatively at him for a moment. "I was aware that they weren't supporters of mine. As you said, they were vocal about it. However, it would be unrealistic to believe that I wouldn't have detractors, considering my age and my rank."

"I believe their deaths are connected, and I believe that Captain Bryce wasn't a victim of unfortunate circumstances, but rather the first victim," Brookes told him. Mustang didn't look shocked by this revelation and Brookes figured that the man had already deduced that for himself. "As you are one of the few things that link them – and not in a good way, I might add – I'd like to ask you a few questions about your whereabouts the nights they died. This is just a matter of me making sure that every lead has been run down and I'd like it so that when this case goes to trial the defense can't question why I never looked at you as a suspect."

The general looked slightly surprised at that. "You make it sound as though you believe that I'm not capable of these crimes," Mustang observed keenly.

Brookes hesitated for a moment, before he nodded. "While I believe that you may be capable of committing these acts, considering what little I know about your alchemic specialty, I don't think that you actually did commit them. I have no doubt, considering your service record, that if necessary you have the capability and willingness to kill to defend this country, but these crimes weren't done for the safety or security of the country, and I don't believe that you're the type of man who would do this."

Mustang looked at him for a long moment before sighing. "Thank you for your honesty, Brookes. Unfortunately, I don't have a good alibi for either of the nights in question. The night Pardi was killed I was home by myself working on some of my personal alchemic research. Last night I was also home by myself, but I couldn't sleep and went for a walk around the neighbourhood for an hour or so to clear my head. I'm not sure if anyone saw me, as it was late – maybe one or two in the morning."

Brookes made more notes in his notepad. "Do you know of anyone else who would have a reason to kill them?"

Mustang sighed again, although not in impatience. "No. I don't doubt that Bryce made a few enemies along the way with his attitude. We were posted to different areas after we graduated and I didn't see him again for several years. I do know that he wasn't well regarded among our academy class, but upon graduating I went straight into the State Alchemist program and was dispatched to Ishval a few months later. As for Pardi, I barely knew him. Technically he was within my chain of command, but I don't believe I've ever spoken to him. Führer Grumman and Major General Andrews were the ones who sent him out to Ishval, since I was recovering from the injuries that I had sustained on the Promised Day at the time, and he only recently returned from Ishval and I hadn't had a new mission for him yet. He could have made some enemies when he was posted out to Ishval to help with the rebuilding efforts, but from what I've heard they're more grateful for his help rebuilding their homes than they were annoyed or angered by his attitude."

"And Summers?" Brookes asked, still making notes.

Mustang shrugged. "Again, he wasn't within my circle of friends or acquaintances, and he wasn't in my direct chain of command. I don't think I ever met him, but from what I know of his complaints, it seemed that he was more annoyed by my age and my rank than any personal grievance that he could have held against me. I can't think of anything that I personally did to him that would have caused him to resent me. It's possible that with an attitude like that he likely had some people somewhere who would've wanted to see him dead – in our line of work and with his rank, why wouldn't he? – but I can't think of anyone other than myself who had a problem with all three men, and the conflict wasn't on my end. Bryce is the only one I personally disliked, and that was mostly because of his attitude and the way he treated women."

Brookes allowed a small look of disappointment to cross his face, before he sighed. "Alright. I'll check with your neighbours and some of those who live in your area. Maybe I'll be able to find someone who was up late last night when Summers died and saw you out walking." He closed his notebook as he stood, Mustang rising with him. "Thank you for your time, Brigadier General. Hopefully your connection to the victims turns out to be an unfortunate coincidence like I believe it to be." He offered his hand, which Mustang took.

"Thank you for your honesty and coming to speak to me in person, Lieutenant Colonel Brookes. I will ask one thing of you, however," Mustang said as he released Brookes' hand. "Follow this investigation where it leads you. I know I'm not the killer, and I'm glad you're in my corner, but if the evidence keeps leading you to me, don't fight it. That's what went wrong with the Hughes' investigation after Lieutenant Ross was accused. Everyone had made up their minds that she was guilty and they never allowed themselves to consider that there could've been someone else out there who was. The fact that you're investigating me along with other leads tells me that you're doing your job properly. I'm sure plenty of other people would have tried to go after me when my name first came up. Keep in mind that fighting a case when it leads to someone you don't consider a suspect is just as bad as forcing it to fit that person, despite the evidence."

For a moment when the general had begun speaking, Brookes had felt a touch of annoyance at being told how to do his job, but by the time the man had finished speaking, he felt the annoyance melt away under the intensely concerned gaze Mustang had him under. He could see why there were as many good rumors about the general's leadership abilities and reputation in caring for the soldiers under his command as there were bad ones about him being a womanizer and a sly politician who was only looking to climb the military ladder. He couldn't help but wonder if, despite what Mustang said about not being the killer was really true – could he be speaking like this in an effort to throw off the investigation? After a moment of consideration, he dismissed the thought.

"I will. You have my word, General."

"Thank you, Brookes. If there's nothing else that you need from me, you're dismissed."

Brookes saluted and nodded a goodbye before taking his leave from the office. He expressed a goodbye to Captain Hawkeye, but didn't fail to notice her slipping into the inner office before the outer office door had shut behind him.

As he walked back to his office, he couldn't help but hope that his words about this being an unfortunate coincidence were true. Mustang was right that the fact that his name kept coming up in connection with all three victims would be pounced on by anyone who had a personal or professional reason to get Mustang out of the way. After the Promised Day and the complete upheaval of the entire high command structure, Mustang didn't exactly have a shortage of people out for his blood.

He groaned as he continued down the corridor. This case was going to get complicated before too long, and he suspected that by the end of it he wouldn't be the only one with an ulcer.

A/N- Here's the second chapter for everyone! I want to thank those who have already reviewed the story so far, including my guest reviewer who I can't pm to tell them how much I appreciate it. Just a heads up to everyone, this is going to be a long story. I haven't finished writing the future chapters but there's over 24 chapters so far. Please let me know what you think to the second chapter because I would absolutely love to hear from everyone!