Roy-Fan-33 - I am glad you are enjoying the story and thank you so much for your kind replies.


Human Artillery

The Past

Medes was just as Havoc had imagined it: dry, desolate and destroyed. The army had done its job well several years earlier when it swept through and eradicated the village north of Ishbal. The few structures that still stood near the town square were crumbling ruins. At best, the buildings might have provided a bit of shelter from the wind and sun, but little else.

It was beyond him how anyone could still be living there. Hell, he lived in the midst of a major military camp, all the basics provided and he thought that was barely adequate.

From his perch on the back of the troop truck, he had a clear view of most of the heart of the city. His hopes were that intelligence reports were wrong, that there was no one there. There could not be. It looked abandoned. His instincts, on the other hand, told him differently.

Hot, dusty air blew through the rubble-strewn streets. There was no moisture in it and all it made him want to do was cough. Gods how he missed rain.

Well, this Dr. Rhodes was not going to just turn herself in, he thought. Callused fingers pressed to the hot metal frame as he pushed himself up. The unforgiving sun beat down as he shaded his eyes, briefly scanning the area.

Half a block ahead, ducked in the shadows he spied Major Soham and his squadron. Just the thought of that arrogant officer made him want to kick something. The whole damned ride to this forsaken place that jerk bellowed and carried on about the glory of capturing a doctor who went crazy and joined the Ishbalans.

Didn't the military have bigger priorities than wondering where one healer went?

Taking up his rifle, he stepped off the back of the truck, landing on a soft, sandy floor. He silently bet that in a few years the desert would reclaim this place and all their struggles would be forgotten.

A quick glance around allowed him to briefly study the faces of the men who made up the second squad. He had seen most of the men about the base camp, but knew little about them in combat. They were like him. Handpicked by the higher ups for this mission. He still did not get the importance placed on a simple apprehension.

Luckily, whoever picked the shooters knew what they were doing. A smile tugged at his chapped lips when he spied Walberton and Hawkeye in the shade of one of the crumbing buildings.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Havoc fished a cigarette out of his pocket and worked his way over the uneven ground to where they sat. "We're hardly going to surprise them. I mean, hell, they'd have to be blind not to see the dust cloud we stirred up on the way here." Stepping into the shaded pool, he looked at his comrades. Both were alert, searching the stone-faced structures rising over the debris that filled the street. "You two are making me nervous," he said softly.

Some of the young men in the squad were rather green and he figured the less to make them jumpy or worse trigger happy, the better so he kept his voice low.

"We are being watched," Hawkeye replied.

"Woman's intuition?" Walberton teased.

"That's good enough for me." Havoc quickly readied his rifle. He strained slightly to see over a section of collapsed wall to where Soham's men waited. "That idiot has his men out in the open." If he tried, he could almost hear Soham barking orders. The man had no clue how to lead or deal with combat. These Ishbal were not just going to throw their hands up in surrender at the sight of blue uniformed soldiers. These people hated the State, believed them to be invaders who defy God's law and would do what was necessary to protect themselves and their beliefs from being washed away by the Amestris military machine marching over them. Hell, to add insult to injury, they were even being destroyed by the kind of people they hated and feared the most, the alchemists.

Speaking of alchemists, he wondered where their illustrious leader, the Flame Alchemist, was. From what he had seen so far that day, he was not sure what to make of him. He hardly fit the character from the night before or half the stories told about him. During the journey to Medes, Soham had barked power mad oaths to his men, determined that this apprehension mission would rocket him up through the ranks, Major Mustang sat there, arms folded across his chest, staring blankly off in the distance.

"What are we going to do," Walberton growled, "just sit here and let Soham's men take all the glory for the capture?"

"Suits me just fine," Havoc said as dug out his lighter and lit up his cigarette. He was always at his best with a smoke. "Heroes are always the first to get shot."

Aye, came the round of affirmatives from those who had already seen their fair share of action. They moved about, taking up safe stations as they searched their surroundings for any sign of trouble.

A flash caught Havoc's eye.

"Eleven o'clock, Hawkeye."

"Got it."

The blond haired woman shifted to a kneeling position and took aim while Havoc searched the tops of the buildings for signs of more snipers. A single shot rang out and then there was silence.

"Maybe you should have waited," Walberton said. "I think he was going to shoot Soham."

Hawkeye said nothing as she prepared for another shot.

"Oh, now you tell us," Havoc teased.

Silence drifted over the men, over everything, as the echo of that single shot still seemed to reverberate. Nothing happened.

"Don't forget," one of the men toward the back warned. "These people are Hareti. They're not like regular Ishbalan. They'll break all their religious laws to take us out."

"Great," Havoc said. Bringing up his rifle, he looked through the scope, searching the rooftops, window openings and holes in the building façades for any sign of trouble.

He tightened the trigger, sliding his view along several busted out windows.

At the first hint of movement, he squeezed.

A single shot shattered the silence.

"Time to move," Walberton said. "Hawkeye go left. Havoc right."

"Sure thing, boss." Havoc answered with a smile. "Where's our Major at?" he asked as he got ready to move.

"Over there."

Havoc followed Walberton's line of sight and found the blue uniformed officer deep in the shadows, leaning against a wall. He seemed to be completely focused on Soham.

Crouching low, he raced across the street, dodging large chunks of stone that blocked the path. Ducking into the shadows where the Major stood, he readied his rifle and took a quick survey of the opposite buildings.

"Standing there like that you might as well be in front of a firing squad," he said through clenched teeth. Raising his rifle and peering through the scope again, he searched for hostiles. "I don't know about you, but I want to live. If you get shot, then the higher ups will put us someplace guaranteed to get us shot. So do us a favor and make our job easy. Don't stick your neck out unless you absolutely have to."

He squeezed the trigger and saw a figure jerk back from their perch inside one of the second level windows.

Discharging the spent shell, he quickly reloaded but was aware that the Major said nothing. "You're not paying me a bit of attention," Havoc growled. "Yeah, whatever." He started to bring his rifle up but paused when movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention.

"What the hell?" Havoc whispered.

Out in the open, in the middle of the broken street was a small child. The girl's long hair blew in the wind that flowed between the buildings. She could not be more than five or six years old from her height and cherubic features. A dark red blanket was wrapped around her like a cape, the edges clutched together under her chin with a small hand. She stumbled slightly, struggling over the broken surface as she continued toward where the bulk of the squad waited.

"She's going to get herself killed wandering into the middle of a fight." Instinctively, Havoc started to get up. He could not just stand idly by and watch as something terrible happened to her.

Mustang moved, his hand reaching out and pushing Havoc back. "Take cover," was the simple order.

"What? Wait!"

Just as the little girl started running toward them, Mustang drew a gloved hand up.

Havoc tried to stop him, grabbing his arm. "You crazy son of a bitch!"

snap

There was a small flash, then a much larger one. The heat and force of a massive explosion blew Havoc off his feet.