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Chapter 2: Prisoner of War

March 15th, 2088

[Classified Location]

United States of America

Supreme Commander Edward Elric simply stared at the prisoner across from him.

"Drachma? Ok, what kind of drugs have you been smoking, Ruskie?" Edward asked.

"Ruskie?"

"Nickname for Russians."

"I'm not from Russia. I just told you-"

"Yes, yes, you told me, you're from Imperial Army of Drachma, or something like that." Edward snarked as he pulled out a flask. Downing the vodka, he capped it and put it back in his jacket, unceremoniously burping.

"Alright, let's say you really are from Drachma, Russian. Just for my humor. Why attack Alaska? Why attack the United States?" Edward said with an odd smile on his face.

"What would you prefer? A lie? Or the truth?"

Hmm, okay, this guy might not be as dumb as I thought. Edward thought as he took another drag from his cigarette.

"I want the truth." He said sternly. The Drachman sighed heavily.

"Okay. The man in charge of our expedition, Andre Vorkstock, came up with the idea. You see, our nation, Drachma, we've been embroiled in a war against our southern neighbor, Amestris, for several years. We've never been able to break through their northern post, Ft. Briggs. That damn general they have in charge, General Olivia Armstrong, always repulses our forces. Rumor has it that he lost a brother during one such assault, and he wanted revenge. So..." the man paused to drink some water. "So, he recruited a couple of alchemists in our country, assembled together an invasion force of ships and troops, and they, well..."

"What'd they do?" Edward asked, scratching his Mohawk.

"They committed the taboo. I think. All I know is they opened up some portal that led us here. We found that large town of yours, Alaska, I think is what you called it. We found that, and used our ships guns-"

"I have a general good idea of how you attacked Anchorage. What I want to know is why." Edward's gold, cybernetically enhanced eyes glared angrily, making the Drachman feel very small.

I've never seen such ferocity in human eyes before. I'll bet he could give General Armstrong a run for her money.

"Why? We wanted new weapons to break the stalemate. We haven't been able to break past Briggs, and the higher-ups aren't willing to use any newer weapons they've developed for fear of losing them."

"Losing them to Ft. Briggs? To General Armstrong?" Edward asked.

"Yes."

"You said that you had alchemists perform the taboo. Care to elaborate on that?"

"I don't know if I can, alchemy has never been my strong suit. Hell, Drachma has never had strong alchemical power. I don't believe any country could ever match the power Amestris can field with alchemy, especially their damned State Alchemists."

Just what the hell is this guy playing at? Sighing heavily, Edward snubbed out his cigarette, and then leaned forward on the table.

"Alright, Ruskie, let me break it down to you in case the drugs completely fucked your brain up: there are no nations that go by the name of Amestris and Drachma. There is no such thing as alchemy, it's just a myth. Doesn't exist. What I want to know, is what port you sailed from, where you got the ships I destroyed, and how you got the approval of the Russian government to launch such an attack against a supposed ally. If you did not get such approval, then explain to me how you managed to do it underneath the FSB's nose."

"Wha-, sir, I told you everything I know, everything I believe to be the truth." Anton said, growing panicked. This man doesn't believe me. He has to believe me!

"The truth. Ok. Here's the truth: If you don't start coughing up what I want to know, I will make you disappear. Whatever friends and family you have back in Russia, they'll never see you again. If you got a wife and kids, or if you float for the other team, a husband and kids, do them a favor. Tell me the truth."

"I am telling you the truth, I swear!"

"Right. This was all planned out by the Drachman military, right? To get new weapons to break through Ft. Briggs?"

"Yes, exactly!"

Edward simply sighed and stood up. He began walking to the door, shaking his head. Once he opened it, he turned around.

"I should let you know, we've already contacted the Russian President. I'll get to the bottom of this, and then you'll wish you died on that beachhead." Before he left,

"Soldier, remind me, did you say your name was Edward Elric?"

"Yeah. Why do you wanna know?" Edward asked, pulling out his Desert Eagle handgun. Staring at the massive pistol, the Drachman nervously swallowed.

"No-no reason." And with that, the American commander walked out of the room, slamming the steel door shut. In the hallway...

"Do you think he believed it?" Fleet Admiral King Bradley asked.

"Believed what? That we contacted President Sokolov? That was just a bluff." Edward sighed as he holstered his pistol.

"So you do believe him." Bradley said, scratching his chin.

"What, you think I believe some Ruskie who's taken one too many drugs? Come on, King, use your brain, the man's obviously on something. The question is, what is it, and where can I get some?" Edward sighed, pinching his nose bridge. Bradley started laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that you remind me a lot of Rick Sanchez. You know, from that old TV show, Rick & Morty?"

"Come on, I'm nothing like thAUGHat guy." Edward burped as he pulled out his flask.

"Yes, you are." Bradley sighed heavily. "Wasn't expecting another attack like this. And no-one knows where the ships come from. We'll find out though, I ordered several deep-sea cranes out to Anchorage to dig up the wreckages."

Edward glanced at his executive officer. That was one of the things he liked about Bradley. Aside from being a good friend and a damn good officer, Bradley wasn't afraid to do things without asking for Edward's permission. While most officers would never get away with such a thing, Edward usually let it slide with King Bradley because the vast majority of the time, Bradley was right.

That, and he always had Edward's back. The two had been through some of the worst that World War III had offered, and they were still here.

"Good to know. I'll leave you in charge of the operation. I got an appointment with the President to explain this fucking mess. You find anything new, you let me know."

"Yes, sir."

Hmm. Drachma, Amestris, Ft. Briggs, General Olivia Armstrong, State Alchemists. I've kept a bit of a low profile since I've come here, despite my high rank. I've never posted anything on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, nothing like that on social media. I've never really told anyone except EXTREMELY close friends, and even then it took a while for me to trust them.

It's possible he's a rogue Russian, but where did he name the aforementioned nations and officers? That's only shit I would know of. And speaking of myself, how did he know my name?

Well, with such a large bounty on my head, my name's been plastered everywhere via the Chinese government wanting my assassination.

Is it possible he's telling the truth? If so, how did he get here? And more importantly, will we be seeing more attacks like this? If so, how the hell can I stop them?

March 15th, 2088

Washington D.C.

United States of America

The twinkling of the stars in the black, night sky mingled with the lights of search lights of AA guns and missile batteries. Even though the war was over, the protection of the nation's capital was still paramount, as evidenced by all the troops, tanks and armored vehicles patrolling the streets.

"Hmm. Interesting report, Supreme Commander. Are you sure you didn't inject him with truth serum before the interrogation?" President Mike Zacharias Lenthal asked, putting his iPad down on the oak table.

"The jug of water was filled with it. But I believe that he must've taken some pretty strong drugs to be spouting off what you just read. In my opinion, sir, I believe he's just a rogue Russian who attacked us. Why, I don't know at the moment, nor do I know where he got the ships or the troops."

"I understand most of the defenses were removed from Anchorage during the war. But what about the Intercontinental Ballistic Railguns at the Denali Mtn. Range? Couldn't we have used those?"

"No, sir. I had the guns taken offline to replace the firing mechanisms."

The President rubbed his chin for a moment, then reached into his drawer and pulled out a small cylindrical device. He put it on the desk and pressed down the small, green button on top. A bright green light suddenly filled the room, then quickly disappeared.

Edward knew what it was all too well.

"Okay. Now that any and all cameras and microphones are down, you can tell me your thoughts freely. What do you think, Admiral?"

"My honest opinion? I really don't know what to think of it all, sir. I wanna bring out the wreckages from Anchorage to see what I'm working with."

"Okay. In your honest opinion, what are you gonna do if it really was the Russians?"

"If it was, I'll find out who authorized the attack and send the information to Sokolov. I'll let him deal with it, but I'll keep our forces on alert."

"Hmm. What if this man was telling the truth? That he really did come from an alternate world?"

Edward simply stared at the Leader of the Free World.

"You can't be serious, Mr. President. You really think that's possible?" Edward asked. Of course it's possible, you're living proof, fuck-face! The little voice in the back of the Admiral's mind irritated him.

"Let's say he really is telling the truth. What would be our next best option? Fortifying Anchorage? An invasion force?"

"I'd prefer to have all the facts in my hand before I make any serious decisions, such as an invasion, Mr. President."

"Say you don't have the facts. What do you do, hypothetically speaking?"

"I would muster a strike force and invade wherever he came from, send a message that we're not gonna back down."

Drinking a glass of water, the President sighed, lacing his hands as he leaned on his desk.

"Supreme Commander, if you had to, would you lead such a strike force into this other nation, this Drachma? Find the ones who hit us?"

"Yes, sir." Edward's answer came without any hesitation.

"Alright. Let's see if what he said really was true or not."

True? I already think it is true. What I want to know is how he managed to do it, especially with a fleet of ships like what he had. Could I do something similar with my ships, despite the fact mine are much larger than the ones I destroyed?

"President Lenthal, I would strongly advise against an invasion force. Do we have the ships? Yes. Do we have the manpower? Yes. Do we have the money? Yes. My concern is South America. You know as well as I do China invested heavily in them, turning them into a Communist regime. Now that they're uniting, they're gonna see us as a threat. And they're building up their forces as well. What happened at Anchorage, they'll see it as a sign that we're weak. And they'll use that to push back up north to retake Panama, or at least try to."

Say no, please say no to an invasion. Please say no to-

"I understand your concerns, Supreme Commander Elric. Which is why I've gone ahead with Project: ODIN." Lenthal said very coolly. Motherfucker, I was hoping he wouldn't go there. Edward sighed internally.

Project: ODIN was the codename for a series of orbital weapon satellites; massive kinetically-launched solid-tungsten rods that would rain down on any enemy target the United States deemed to be destroyed. One prototype was already in orbit, and it was showing great promise.

"Project: ODIN, sir? Are we sure it'll even work?" Edward asked skeptically.

"I'm sure. Besides, if it didn't, we still have our nukes. I don't want to go that route, but if we had to, then I would give the order to launch on our southern neighbor."

Edward knew the United States still contained a very impressive nuclear arsenal. Not even using less than a quarter of all combined US nuclear weapons would be more than enough to turn all of South America into glass several times over. Edward didn't want to use them, but if it came down to it, he would press the button without any hesitation.

Well, if he's gonna go forward with ODIN, than that means we're invading. Son of a bitch.

Edward decided to try one last time.

"Mr. President, you should know something. If, and that's a big if, we were to commit to an invasion, you need to know that the vast majority of those going overseas would be war veterans. And I mean the shell-shocked, kill-the-first-thing-I-see-moves, thousand-yard stare type. Mentally, sir, we're not ready for another war."

"I understand. But it's like you said; if we don't fight back, our enemies will only see us a weak nation. We can't afford to show that. Not now, not ever."

Edward sighed. He then stood up, saluted the President, and left the Oval Office-

"Mr. Elric."

The Supreme Commander stopped in his tracks.

"Are you alright?"

"Sir, I'm pleading with you right now: If the prisoner was telling the truth, do not, I beg of you, do NOT send an invasion force. And if you have to, please don't send me to lead the charge."

"Why not? Admiral Bradley is more than capable, but he doesn't have that spark, for lack of a better word, that you do. That spark when it comes to leading men on the battlefield. And I've heard all the rumors of what you did in North Korea, China, and Europe. I personally don't care about them."

"I know. But here's something you should know: All the rumors you've heard about me? They're not false, they've been watered down, EXTREMELY watered down. Consider that when making your decision."

"In case you forgot, you and I both took an oath to protect the United States. Just trying to do my job, Marine, trying to protect the American Dream."

As Edward Elric walked the hallways of the White House and out into the streets of D.C., his thoughts wandered.

Col. Anton, is he really telling the truth? Did he really come from Drachma? Hell, what am I so worried about? I'm in command of THE most powerful military in the history of the world. If he's lying, then he's just a rogue Russian and I'll let President Sokolov take care of it. But if he isn't, if he's actually telling the truth...

If he's really telling the truth... Am I afraid of leading an invasion because I would forsake my oath just so see if my little brother is alright? For all I know, the Truth is keeping him locked away in his Gate and keeping me here for his own sick amusement.

But if he's alive... Well, if I do invade, I guess I'll find out one way or another. But maybe I'll have another chat with ol' Ivan, just to make sure he really is telling the truth.

And with that, Edward pulled out his iPhone, grabbed his earbuds and put them in his ears.

Should I ever get my ears augmented for the wireless app? Nah, these will do just fine. Besides, can't risk going deaf in my line of work. And with that, Edward cranked up the volume and put it to shuffle.

Papa Roach, Crooked Teeth: American Dreams

"Something's wrong here, or so it seems,
'Cause I'm not sleeping in,
American Dreams!
American Lies!
We're trying to see through the smoke in our eyes!
So give me the truth, don't tell me your lies!
'Cause it's harder to breathe, when your buried alive,
By American Dreams!"

As the Supreme Commander walked the streets of the heavily guarded city, he heard klaxon horns suddenly blare. Sighing, Edward knew what was coming next. A pre-war message that was still sent out across the entire US, although Edward still had no idea why.

"Citizens of the United States of America, attention. Citizens of the United States of America, attention. Martial Law is now in effect. Repeat, Martial Law is now in effect. A curfew is now in effect. All Military, Police and Pro-America Militia units are to report to their designated dispatch offices to receive instruction for their assigned district. All those caught outside during curfew will be arrested. Dissenters will be seen as enemy combatants and treated as such. Stay in your homes. Stay safe, stay smart, stay armed. All those fitting the profile of Class 1A and Class 1B are to be shot on site."

March 20th, 2088

Anchorage, Alaska

United States of America

Commander Maes Hughes simply puffed on his cigar as he watched the massive A11-D 'Sky-Hook' VTOL cargo craft lift the destroyed remains of the Drachman battlecruiser out of the icy water. Due to the fog that was still in the area, it had an almost creepy look to it, like a ghost ship rising up to haunt its next victim.

It's only been six days since the attack, and already Ed's got this place locked down like a prison. Can't say I blame him, though. This shit raises so many questions, like what was the reason? Where did they come from? And are they gonna try again? And just when I was gonna retire too.

Hughes sighed as he tossed his cigar in the water as two US Marine's walked up to him.

"Sir, we got the ship outta the water. The anti-ship missile that hit it definitely did some severe damage to it, but there's something on the bow that we think you'll be interested in. Might explain how they came here, or where they came from."

"Right, lead the way."

As the Americans walked along the deck of the dead warship, Hughes couldn't help but wonder what could be of great importance on such a hopelessly obsolete vessel. Once he got to the bow of the ship,

"Looks like something out of a trashy, low-budget sci-fi movie. Definitely doesn't look like a standard military piece of hardware. And it's definitely not Russian."

"If this isn't Russian, then where'd it come from?"

"Admiral thinks they came from Russia. But no one knows where these old ships came from. And where the soldiers came as well, not to mention all those old weapons. Mosin-Nagant bolt-action rifles, PPsh-41 submachine guns, TT-30 semi-auto handguns, F1 anti-personal frag grenades, PM M1910 heavy machine-guns, DP-27 light machine-guns, Molotov Cocktails, and those old RM-38 50mm mortars. No one uses that stuff anymore." Hughes sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Okay, they're not Russian. Who are they, then?"

"That's the question, isn't it? Can we get rid of this fog? Making it hard to breathe."

"Sure. Radon, get the blowers working, get rid of this fog."

The sounds of industrial machinery began to reverberate throughout the harbor, the grey-white cloud slowly dissipating away.

"So how's the wife and kid doing?"

"Not too bad. Still scared, especially with what happened up here. Afraid I'll go fight another war. Military life, huh?"

The two remained quiet as the blowers cleared out the thick fog.

"Sir, what do you think's gonna happen?"

"I don't know. Way I see it, we have two choices: we either fortify Anchorage to stop any further invasion attempts, or we go in hard."

"Go in? What, like these guys are from another world or something?"

"I don't know."

The young trooper noticed something over Hughes' shoulder, his eyes growing wide.

"Sir, what the fuck is that thing out in the water?!"

March 20th, 2088

[Classified Location]

United States of America

I guess no matter where you end up, prisons are always the same. At least this place doesn't have any gulags. Anton Sorchyav thought to himself as he-

"You asked about my name." Edward interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm sorry?"

"You asked about my name. Remember? You asked about my name. When I told you, I saw something in your eyes, something changed. Why is my name important?"

Sorchyav sighed, scratching his head.

"Do you know anyone who goes by the name of Alphonse Elric?"

Edward didn't show any outwards signs of emotion, but inside, his heart was starting to hammer.

"I'm familiar with that guy, but only vaguely. Why do you ask?"

"It's the name, Elric, which sounds familiar to me. You said you were familiar with him. May I ask how?"

"How about you describe him for me." Edward lit up a cigarette.

"Okay. He's, uh, he's a little shorter than you, by about a few inches. Blonde hair, short, parted on the side. Um, gold eyes, like you. Um... muscular physique, broad shoulders, but still on the leaner side, but nowhere near as big and muscular as you. Not quite a deep voice like you, but he's definitely not a kid. When I saw him, he was probably 18 years old."

Edward simply stared at the prisoner.

"What, you told me to describe him. Is he important to you?"

"When did you see him? Where?"

"Is... Is anyone gonna find out about this?"

"Trust me, no-one's gonna find out about this. It's just you and me." Edward offered one of his cigarettes, which the Drachman prisoner somewhat reluctantly accepted.

"Ok. It was around five years ago, I was just a Major at the time. The leadership of Amestris, Fuhrer Grumman, had called up the Drachman king, Tsar Nicolas Alexeev III. He wanted to bring an end to the hostilities between our two nations." Anton inhaled deeply, the unfamiliar feeling of American tobacco and nicotine filling his lungs. "He was willing to use Central City to host the Drachman leaders, but they were paranoid about Amestrian soldiers either assassinating them or taking them hostage to be used as bargaining chips. And the Amestrian generals weren't too willing to allow their country's leader to walk straight into Drachma. So it was settled to have Xing host. It was a neutral nation, so it would be the perfect site. Or so we thought."

"What happened?"

"I don't know what happened. I was in charge of security, but something got past me. From what we could tell, it was an attempted assassination attempt on the Tsar by extremists who didn't want peace. Anyway, it all fell apart and we got the hell outta there. We've continued the war ever since."

"Ok. I'm gonna tell you why the name of Alphonse Elric sounds familiar to me: he's my younger brother."

"What? Are you messing with me?"

"No, I'm not. Have you heard of the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"Yes, I've heard of him. Supposedly, he went missing years ago in Central City during a failed coup against Fuhrer Bradley."

"Well, that's true. Somewhat."

"How would you know if..." Edward simply raised an eyebrow as he exhaled smoke from his nostrils. Now the Drachman understood.

"Oh my god. You're him, aren't you? Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"That was a long time ago. Now? I'm just a super-soldier in command of the most powerful military on earth."

If this man goes to the other side with his troops, there's no telling what he'll do to my Homeland. And if he really is the Fullmetal Alchemist, he can gain the Amestrians help as well. Drachma is truly fucked. Anton thought to himself.

"What are you gonna do?" the prisoner asked, his lips suddenly dry.

"I'm gonna find out everything you know about Drachma. The terrain, the politics, military strength, whatever you can think of."

"What makes you think-"

"Either you can tell me now or else I'll cut into your brain and look for it in there."

Whether the former alchemist was bluffing or not, Anton was now too scared to wonder about that.

"Ok, here's what I know..."

March 20th, 2088

Washington D.C.

United States of America

President Lenthal sat in the Oval Office, sighing as he leaned back in the chair. Being the leader of a whole nation wasn't an easy task, especially when said country was still under martial law and you were nothing more than a puppet-head figure to a hot-headed Marine who was quicker on the trigger then he was with his words. As his eyes began to drift shut, his iPhone suddenly vibrated, jolting him awake.

Grumbling, he quickly answered it.

"Yes?"

"Mr. President, its Supreme Commander Elric. Tomorrow, meet me at Denali Mt. in Alaska, where the big Intercontinental railguns are located. Bring only yourself, it's important."

"What's this about?"

"I'm assembling an invasion force to invade Drachma, sir."