CHAPTER 2

The expression on Colonel Mustang's face as he stalked down the corridors of Central Headquarters could by the most polite of people been labelled as murderous. Polite or not, it warned all those who he encountered that it would no doubt prolong their lifespans to get out his way FAST.

Storming into his outer office, one glance was all it took to realise that his team had no new leads or information, before he strode into his inner space and slammed the door with a ferocity Fullmetal would have been proud of. The thought of his youngest subordinate set his teeth on edge. Two weeks. Two bloody weeks since the call had come through from an informant that Edward Elric had missed his scheduled check in with their contacts in North City.

At first he had played it off as the annoying brat just being lazy, probably already causing trouble somewhere and would resurface when the cost of damages reached a high enough level that he could be sure of giving his commander a stroke. That was it, and that was all, it was just Fullmetal being a pain in the rear as usual…

Such thoughts had lasted until three days later, when the report of a concerned civilian seeing what appeared to be an unconscious child being thrown into the back of a van had reached them. Apparently the police had been dealing with it until they had found an alchemist's watch in a nearby alley, at which point they had decided to check in with the military to see if they had anyone in the area who might be a witness. They weren't expecting to find out the watch belonged to the victim, who was swiftly identified as Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People… now officially MIA.

The call had come through to Roy's desk shortly after.

The team had mobilised, contacts ferreted out, informants squeezed for any scrap of information. Alphonse had been called in Risembool where he had been visiting the Rockbells, a conversation which had lasted for precisely three minutes before the younger brother was heading for the next train to central.

After the first flurry of activity, the waiting had begun. Waiting for each informant as they one by one came up empty. Waiting as the local police drew a blank. Waiting until the phone on Mustang's desk finally rang with a call from the Fuhrer's office in response to his repeated requests to take his team up there and conduct a search themselves. Two weeks of waiting.

With tightly controlled movements the Colonel replaced the phone on its hook and headed to the outer room. He looked at his subordinates one by one, noting the anger and hope mingled on each of their faces as they waited to hear their orders.

Satisfied with what he saw, he gave a sharp nod. "Get your shit packed up people. We are heading north."