Chapter 14

Miles could easily picture the firm set of the general's lips, and he could practically hear the crackling of her annoyance over the radio. "I suppose it can't be helped," she said finally. "Stay as long as you need to, Miles. Just don't get too attached to the place."

"I'll try, ma'am," Miles replied. "We should be able to work our way out of this setback, as long as there aren't any more."

"Well, all I can say is if Mustang still thinks he can be Fuhrer, he'd better learn to manage finances a little better," General Armstrong remarked irritably. "You can't run a country on idealism alone. How did the Ishvalans react?"

"After some grumbling, most of them are taking it in their stride and are making the best of it." Miles smiled wryly. "Like how they deal with the heat. There's nothing they can do about it, so they work around it."

"And our boy Andakar?" Armstrong gave the name a slightly amused emphasis.

"More or less the same. I think he was almost expecting a snafu like this."

"I suppose he would. He seems to be more of a pragmatist, barring the occasional minor miracle. Any more sign of those?"

"No, ma'am. Right now he's more focused on getting school started and trying to keep his temper and his family under control."

"Oh?"

Miles laughed quietly. "Well, Naisha, mostly. She's the type who likes to go against the established order. You'd like her, ma'am. But no," he went on. "After the business with finding the river, he's been avoiding anything alchemical. It was kind of an accident to begin with."

"Yes, but it just shows how unique his talents are!" Miles could hear a slight tapping noise which was probably the general's fingertip against the table in front of her. "He's letting it go to waste, Miles!"

"He'd argue with you about that, ma'am."

"Let him! I'll give him as good as I get!"

Miles smiled. "I have no doubt of that, ma'am."

"This is extremely kind of you, Mrs. Bradley."

"Oh, not at all, I assure you, Brigadier!" Mrs. Bradley sat back and beamed at her two guests. "I owe you both so much! I'm just glad I could catch you before you left Central."

Riza smiled as she poured out three cups of tea, moving the little strainer along as she did so. She recognized the tea set as the same one Fuhrer Bradley had in his office. She never expected to see it again, and certainly not under these circumstances.

"We certainly would have asked after you, ma'am," Riza said. "How are you doing?"

Mrs. Bradley sighed. "As well as can be expected. I've more or less retired from public life, although I do like to have an occasional guest," she added, given them another smile. She took the teacup Riza handed to her and gave it a stir, her lips pursed. "I have my hands full with little Selim. Not him, so much," she added quickly, "but from some who think I shouldn't be attempting it. General Grumman, for one." She sipped her tea and set the cup down. "I don't care what anyone says about Selim. Neither my husband nor I had any idea what he was, but he was still my son. He still is. And I think there's very little that a truly loving mother can't overcome!"

Roy raised his cup to her. He wasn't about to judge anyone else's crackpot idealism. "That was very well spoken, Mrs. Bradley."

"Thank you, Brigadier. You're very kind. Now!" Mrs. Bradley regarded the two officers with a new little twinkle in her eye. "This was not strictly a social invitation. I asked you both here to talk a little business."

Roy glanced at Riza, then looked back at Mrs. Bradley. "Business?"

"Yes. I understand that there have been some budget shortfalls in your Ishvalan project," Mrs. Bradley said with a shrewd look in her eye.

Roy smiled a little. "You're very well informed, Mrs. Bradley. But it's a nationwide problem, apparently. It's been discovered that certain people who have since been removed from power had their hands pretty deep in the cookie jar." A little vague, but not entirely inaccurate.

"Yes, I understand the economy had taken rather a beating along with everything else," Mrs. Bradley said. "Fortunately, Bradley made some very wise investments while he was still with us, and along with my widow's pension, I've been able to retire in relative comfort."

Roy glanced over at the manor house that towered at the edge of the wide green lawn. "Indeed."

"That being the case," Mrs. Bradley went on, "I have a proposal to make. Considering the great need, and considering my personal debt to you, I would like to create an endowment and call it the Ishval Foundation. What do you think of that?"

Roy's cup paused halfway to his mouth and he slowly set it down. "Mrs. Bradley, are you quite serious? It's not that I don't believe you," he added quickly. "I just want to make sure I heard you right."

"Oh, you heard me just fine, Brigadier," Mrs. Bradley replied with a wink. "And yes, I'm quite serious. I feel that we are bound by honor to make war reparations, and if the government can't pay for it, then it's up to us private citizens."

Roy leaned forward, his excitement growing. "Have you thought about how to present this to the public?"

"Well, through the usual means," Mrs. Bradley replied. "Newspapers, radio, that sort of thing. I contacted those nice people at Capital Radio, and they've consented to give me a spot on one of their weekend news programs."

Like they'd say no. Roy grinned. "You, Mrs. Bradley, are what is called a mover and a shaker."

Mrs. Bradley brought her fingers to her mouth and laughed delicately. "Oh, Brigadier, now you're just flattering me!"

"Not at all, ma'am, I assure you! This is exactly the sort of campaign I wanted to start, and you're way ahead of me." Roy made a bold gesture by reaching out and putting his hand on Mrs. Bradley's. "Can I leave this to you to handle? If there's anything I can do, just tell me."

"You can certainly leave it to me, Brigadier," Mrs. Bradley replied. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. "Well! So much for retirement!"

An impeccably dressed butler stepped quietly up to Mrs. Bradley and bent down to speak near her ear.

"He is?" Mrs. Bradley said. "Yes, thank you, Smithers. I'll be there in a moment." She turned to Roy and Riza. "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me. Selim has just woken up from his nap."

Both officers stood and bowed. "Of course, Mrs. Bradley."

"Feel free to finish your tea," Mrs. Bradley said as she got up and left the table. "Then just ring to have someone show you out."

"Thank you!"

Roy and Riza sat down and watched Mrs. Bradley cross the lawn to the house. "What a remarkable woman," Roy said quietly.

Riza nodded. "I think it was almost worth having to shovel that pack of lies to the public just to spare her."

Roy sat back and grinned with satisfaction. "And to get her on our team." He looked over at Riza. "Is this worthy of another celebratory dinner?"

Riza hesitated for a moment, then said, "We have an early train to catch, sir."

"Yes. Of course. You're right."

Their last evening out had been very pleasant. Riza looked just as lovely in her dress as she did the first time, and they were both riding a wave of elation from the news of the promotion. When they returned to the hotel and he walked her to the door of her room, perhaps it was the way he stood there gazing at her made it seem like he was about to kiss her again, but she slipped into her room and locked the door pretty quickly. He supposed he had already taken one too many liberties.

She was right, of course. She usually was. It didn't matter how exalted his rank was. The parameters their relationship was based on had always been unspoken but always understood. He had strayed briefly from that path, and although he might still be within her threshold of tolerance, losing her was far worse than getting a bullet in his back.