Hey everyone! Happy New Years Day! Artemis and I really wanted to get these next two chapters out by Christmas, but unfortunately we couldn't. So you can think of this as a late Christmas present or an early one for El Dia de Los Reyes (Three Kings Day which is on Jan 6). Anyways, Happy Holidays and enjoy ^_^


XII

Alex looked down at the body on the ground in shock before he heard his sister snap the men to attention.

"Alright you maggots, you heard the Colonel! I want this hospital fully functional before the end of the day." Olivier turned to the medical staff and scrutinized each of them individually. "I want all medical personnel in this courtyard in the next five minutes who are not already occupied with another patient. You will follow this order or find yourself like your colleague in the dirt. Go find the rest of your team and bring them back here immediately. Dismissed!"

The doctors and nurses took off in tears. Some stoneface and determined, rather than leave, took up ranks to help assist Amy and Cassi with the final few Ishvalan-Amestrian men and getting them taken into the building. As the courtyard cleared, Olivier turned to her brother and saw him slowly approaching the body of the nurse and lifting her up with more care then she felt the woman deserved.

"Was it…"

"Alex?"

"...Was it necessary?" Alex asked coolly, staring at the body in his arms.

"That is not for you to question Alex," Olivier said.

"That is a load of malarky, Olivier! This woman had no reason to die today!" Alex yelled, holding the body close to him as tears flowed down his face. His blue eyes glared at his sister and his face flushed as he lost himself to righteous anger.

"Major, remember your rank. What others find unnecessary is what is needed to maintain order. Man up Major, Armstrongs do not get emotional. You would do well to remember to lay your emotions aside," Olivier said coolly, passing her brother by.

"You would do well to find yours, lest you remain a heartless wretch and lose out on loved ones," Alex bit out at his sister's passing form. Olivier paused, her head slightly tilted towards her younger brother before she stood straighter and walked swiftly towards the building to wait for her doctors and nurses.

-BTG-

Olivier stared down the line of doctors and nurses and looked each up and down.

"You are all now under my orders, no matter which building you are in. You all answer to me. You do not eat, breathe, sleep, or shit without my say so. You have all grown complacent in your positions and that stops now," Olivier said, as she marched down the line before pivoting to march back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the Black Twins going over a list away from the rest of the staff. The two looked from the list to the doctors, then from the list to the injured bodies. Olivier glared at the medical personnel before stepping away to monitor the progress the Twins had made.

"Blacks."

"Lt. Col. Armstrong."

"Report."

"We gathered a list on the injuries and the amount of men we need to perform some form of surgery or invasive procedure," Amy said, looking down at the list.

"Unfortunately, from the looks of this list, we are going to need every one of those doctors and nurses to stay here for the next foreseeable future which is just not possible," Cassi said, as she looked to the staff calculatingly.

"What do you girls recommend? We will go with your recommendation." Olivier turned, looking to the waiting group.

"Tell two doctors and nurses to return to the other building." Amy handed her list to Olivier.

"The rest have to scrub up," Cassi finished, as she watched her twin make her retreat towards the men whom needed attending.

"Good work." Olivier advanced on the medical personnel, it was going to be a long night.

-BTG-

Olivier growled as she punched one of the walls. They had lost six men during surgery, not for a lack of effort or misconduct either. Time had just run out for those men. She bore witness to infection and pisspoor slap job work from other doctors that needed to be reopened and fixed. The men were dirty and some had lay in their own waste for days before the remodeling of the medbay. She watched nurses lose lunch as wounds were reopened to be cleaned and the sour sweet smell of rotting flesh filled the air during amputations.

Olivier's heart chilled her as she watched men give up before her eyes. They did not scream as their arms or legs were separated from them or their bodies were opened without anesthetic. They did not cry as their wounds were reopened to release the pus, insects, or disease from their flesh. The did not wince, tear, cry, or even bellow as someone else's hand maneuvered around inside them to clean away the rotting meat and infection. No these soldiers watched with a fire in their eyes and heart to the last second. Then, as they lost the battle within, as the fire died to embers, the quirk of their lips took a quarter turn as their bodies went slack.

Olivier winced as she looked down at her hand, she had scraped her knuckles. She watched her flesh pucker before releasing a few drops of blood which she covered with her other hand.

"I'm sure the wall didn't do anything to you," a raspy voice stated from behind her.

Olivier turned in shock to find an Ishvalan-Amestrian leaning back in chair with a half turned smirk on his face.

"If anyone asks 'bout the scrape, tell them you punched a doc in the face. It will be sure to be an amusing story; considering one of the doc's slipped in Fullson's puke and went face first into a wall; bastard's got a lovely shiner." The man grinned.

"Intriguing. I will be sure to make a note of that…"

"Sergeant Major Miles. I'd salute but..." The man said, giving a half raise of his arm. "Forearm fracture. Nothing too serious but a right bitch when the incompetent hacks here don't provide proper treatment." The man leaned back.

"What happened?"

"My team was on the front and we got ambushed. We were under fire when one of those young bastards you like to give us decided to make a run; he got separated from us and the rest of the team. We went for a retreat and I went after the idiot. Some young kid, I'd say 16, just a private trying to prove he could handle himself. I was pulling him away through the random explosions. One second we were turning left and the next we got blown sky high. Kid lost both his legs but he's still breathing. He's getting an award for returning to battle to save a comrade."

"They are awarding him for your bravery," Olivier said, in shock.

"Oh yeah. It's a thankless job being a red-eye in the Amestrian Military. Plenty of the men you saw today have done the exact same thing. We are the ones who run back in for the white men when others turn tail and run. Someone needs to bring something back for the families." Miles got up and looked out the window. In the distant night, flashes of light and smoke were rising. "We are far enough away not to hear it but I can still hear the screaming of orders and the sound of gunfire."

Olivier stepped up to the window and saw the rise of smoke miles away.

"The men here, we mostly are sent on the suicide missions. We are not expected to return. We joined this war to protect our country. Not for Ishval, though we look plenty like our red-eyed counterparts. We are here for Amestris, for most of us, it is the only home we've ever known. I'm a second generation Ishvalan-Amestrian. Only a quarter of me is Ishvalan, that's from my father's side. My Grandfather's blood runs strong in me, hence," he signalled to his eyes.

"Why stay then? You have been injured, you could return home." Olivier turned to look at the man.

"I will not run home with my tail between my legs because I am getting treated unfairly. I am a man of honor Lt. Colonel Armstrong. I will just push twice, if not three times, as hard to prove myself. I signed up for this war willingly. I'm sure you have faced similar challenges being a female in the military," Miles said, as he rubbed his chin feeling his stubble. "I'm sorry if you will excuse me ma'am, I need to find myself the John and a razor." He stepped away from the window.

"Srgt. Major." Olivier nodded to the man.

" Lt. Colonel."

-BTG-

"What's on your mind Oli?"

"Nothing Patrick and don't call me Oli."

Olivier rested her chin on the slightly fuzzy chest of Colonel Patrick Ryan. Her fingers ghosted across his chest as she sighed. Patrick's hand ran up and down her arm as a light sheet barely covered the waist of the two.

"Olivier, what is going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" he asked, as he tilted his head to look at the woman curled into his side. Normally, she was stern and cool but in the privacy of this little shack she was relaxed. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his shoulder and leaned in to give him a lingering kiss. She stared into his eyes.

"You know what is on my mind."

"Oli...Olivier, we've talked about this. I'll leave her as soon as this fuckshow of a war is over."

"And how long do you think that is going to be? I've been waiting three years Patrick. Three years and we are still no closer to winning this war than when we arrived!" She sat up and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. Colonel Ryan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He brushed his fingers on her arm and trailed up to her shoulders. His fingers massaged the tensed muscles of her neck. A slight moan escaped her lips.

"Olivier, my tigress," he leaned in and kissed her shoulder blade. "For now, can't we just live in the moment? We never know when it will be one of us under the tarp."

She remained silent, so Patrick continued his barrage of feather light kisses from her back, to her neck, to the sensitive area below her ear. A cold fear crept up his neck. She couldn't be pregnant. Could she? He thought back to when they began their affair. They had used a variety of contraceptives over the years: withdrawal, condoms, and even the spermicidal jelly he bought from shady a merchant back in Central. Normally, he wouldn't make deals with those types, he was a Colonel after all, but apparently several military men were using it; came highly recommended too. It was said it was more effective that the regular spermicides, plus the sponges had really killed the mood, so Patrick took whichever alternatives he could. Yet, looking back, black market products weren't always the most reliable and it wasn't like he could sue the guy for an ineffective product to use on a woman that was not his wife.

He hugged her tightly. They had taken all precautions but her silence scared him. What would he do if she were pregnant? They risked being court-martialed if their relationship ever came to light. The Armstrong family name would be tarnished, her having not only a child out of wedlock but from an adulterous relationship as well. He couldn't leave Marsha and the girls, not until he was sure he would keep custody of his children. He knew she was tiring from his excuses but there was nothing he could do while stuck out here in the boondocks.

He rested his chin on her shoulder and gently asked, "Now, tell me what's really bothering you?"

She snorted at how well he knew her. "It's Alex…" she leaned back against Patrick's strong chest. He would never have the glorious physique that has been passed down the Armstrong line for generations, but for her he was enough.

"Oh?" he tried to mask the surprise in his voice.

"He was upset at the nurse's passing, asked if it was necessary."

"And you share his disapproval of my methods?"

"No, sir."

He frowned, he hated it when she fell back into her subordinate role. He thought after threes years of their relationship (if he could call it that) would have conditioned her otherwise. She noticed the slip and glanced away.

"Do I...push you away?"

"Pardon?"

A hand reached up to play with her tell-tale Armstrong curl. "It's nothing." And her defenses were up again. Patrick shifted so they could see eye to eye. He lifted Olivier's chin when she turned away from him.

"No."

Her eyes widened by a fraction.

He repeated the word more forcefully. "Never ever in a million eons could you push me away, Olivier Mira Armstrong. Sure you could be difficult, or somewhat reserved, but you are you and that's what I love about you." Patrick smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Come, let's get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be hell."