Mar 1st, 1984

It had been a long, sleepless night. Trisha was grateful she'd left the kids with their grandparents, because there was no way she would have gotten home at a decent hour, not given the investigation in which they were currently engaged, but because they would be far safer there. When she'd left, Riza had also been over, and both sets of personal security had remained on the house given the importance of the people inside it.

After that it had been a long night patrolling the streets of Central, searching warehouses, and trying to track down leads based on vague information like "I saw some men running that way five minutes after the explosions."

The sneaking around, at least, was something Trisha's particular alchemical skills were excellent for. Instead of busting in doors, her team could trust her alchemy for listening in and determining if anyone was in a building and, in most cases, exactly who they were, or what. Busting in on rats or couples kissing in the dark would have been highly embarrassing.

Trisha decided she didn't want to know what couple thought making out in a warehouse the night after a major attack was a good idea. She had the team bust in on them just for the amusement factor. It helped alleviate a little of the tension, and it convinced the two teenagers in question they should really go home before they did something stupid.

Roy would have enjoyed that, she couldn't help thinking as they made their way towards the last warehouse on the end of Devin Street.

"If there's nothing here, do we get to go home?" Second Lieutenant Trev Mullins asked, stifling a yawn.

"If there's nothing here we report back and find out where else we can look," Trisha replied, refusing to yawn herself. Instead she crouched behind the wall of the next building over, sketched out a transmutation circle, and placed her hands to it, reaching out with alchemical energy into the next building, like she had the past several, searching for noises and the presence of anyone there. Even the slightest whispers.

"Anything?"

"Shhh."

There they were… voices, speaking thickly accented Amestrian and Aerugean. She could only catch snatches of conversation, but she recognized words: escape, cars, and regroup. "I think that's them." She pulled her hands away from the wall and stood. "They sound like they're getting ready to move out, we'll need to work quickly. They don't have a guard near the doors."

"Assume they're armed," Officer Kennison, the military police officer in charge of the team, said softly.

"You think?" one of the junior officers quipped.

Trisha smacked him on the arm.

After that, everyone locked into professional mode, slipping into formation and closing in around the building. They would approach through two doors. It split fire if they walked in to a hot situation.

Trisha edged up on the east door, taking deep slow breaths. Here we go. On the signal squawk from her radio she spun and kicked in the door.
Inside –

There was no one.

The door across from her busted open, revealing Officer Kennison.

Her eyes immediately started scanning the building for an ambush, but the only sounds in the building were the echoes of humming electronics, and the tick-tick of a running fan.

They spread out, searching the building.

"Where did they go?" Kennison asked as she and Trisha met in the middle. Trisha appreciated that the woman did not challenge the fact that Trisha had heard them there.

"Here!" someone said, and Trisha and Kennison followed the voice to a small open door, which turned out to lead to a staircase down. "The door was ajar."

Trisha looked down into the dark space, and her heartbeat picked up. "Do we follow?"

"We do," Kennison nodded as she picked up her radio. "But first, we call for back-up."

"How's it feeling?" Ethan asked as he stopped gently prodding Charlie's stomach, which seemed far less distended and sensitive than it had a couple of days before. His fever finally seemed to have broken, which was also a good sign.

"Better," Charlie shrugged. "I may never eat catfish again though."

Given that had been his last meal before it kicked in, Ethan couldn't blame him. The smell would probably haunt him for a while. "There are worse things." Ethan gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Charlie's expression drooped. "How's Mom?"

It took all of Ethan's willpower not to wince. Gloria, Kamika, and Elicia were also in hearing distance. "I saw her this morning," he said. "She said she misses you."

"When can we see her?" Gloria asked from the kitchen door.

"In a couple of days," Ethan replied, not wanting to offer too much. "As long as she keeps improving as fast as she is." He didn't just want to say as long as she continued to improve at all. "Probably by the time they stop locking down most of our houses."

"How is it they're letting you run around today anyway?" Elicia asked as Ethan stood up.

Ethan chuckled. "My security guard is a very patient man who deserves a really nice overtime check." Given he had chased Ethan to Central HQ the night before, then followed him to the hospital, and home again, and had insisted on doing all of today's driving, Ethan was grateful the man hadn't shot him himself.

"Well be safe just the same."

"I will, Aunt Elicia." Ethan packed up his kit. Not that he had needed much given Charlie's improvement. "As for you, sir, take it easy a couple more days and you'll be bouncing off the walls again in no time."

"Thanks, I think."

Elicia escorted Ethan to the door. "Is there anything I should know?" she asked Ethan so quietly even he almost couldn't hear her.

"She's stable, but that's all I can say for now," Ethan admitted in just as low a voice. "It's more than I could have hoped for yesterday. Frankly she's lucky what she and Charlie had was a stomach bug and not respiratory, given how much I've had to do to heal the damage to her respiration system. The firemen got there almost immediately after the smoke did, and it's a miracle she got out at all. One of the other women with her didn't."

"Is she going to live, Ethan?"

"As long as there aren't any secondary infections, she should eventually make a full recovery." Ethan wished he could make that sound more cheerful, like it should be. "She's weak, and she's still healing. At least the bug's gone," he added with a twist of irony. "Her ankle is set and will heal on its own with time, probably by the time the rest of her is actually up to really moving around." It would be weeks of respiratory therapy and probably more alchemical treatments before he'd like her do anything more than a sedate walk. "I – I sent a telegram off to Cal last night. I thought he should know."

"Thank you." Elicia sighed. "I mean thank you. You've saved my daughter."

Ethan gave her a hug. "Hey, Alyse is my prettiest cousin. Will's a nice guy, but he's not nearly as cute."

Charisa wished she could turn off the television, but as it was their only real news of what was going on outside the house, she didn't. She did, however, turn down the volume. She didn't want Brandon and Camelia more scared than they already were.

Though she had to admit, aside from pampering her, Dare was doing a really good job of keeping his little siblings distracted and busy. Of course, he had Lorraine's help.

Given the late hour when she and Dare had gotten home the night before, she had called and let Lorraine's mother know she was safe and that it was all right if she spent the night. Lorraine's mother had agreed that her daughter staying in a secure house was safer than trying to come home on the dark streets.

So Lorraine had slept in the downstairs guest room –and Charisa had only had to put up with one entirely joking pout from her son that his girlfriend couldn't stay in his room- and it had been a quiet night, aside from the fact that only the youngest really slept.

Now it felt strange to be home mid-morning on a weekday, to know that her office currently did not exist.

The list of casualties had names now. The first thing Charisa had done was read the names, dreading who she might see, and finding herself grateful with each name that it wasn't someone she really knew. No one in her office had died though, like her, several had suffered minor wounds.

Others weren't so lucky. Charisa would miss seeing Fred Feldman in the halls. He had worked two offices down and had occasionally been on committees dealing with the same lobbyists she did.

Phone calls had gotten her more information than the television set and radio this morning. A call to the Mustangs told her Trisha was out with the police teams hunting down Syndicate members. A call to Ethan and Lia's confirmed that Alyse was alive, if critical, and Ethan was making the rounds. While the State Alchemist offices had been heavily damaged, almost no one had been in them, seeing as they had mostly been out on missions or in a meeting in another part of the building.

So now all she could do was wait.

"Do you want more tea, Mom?" Dare asked solicitously as he came in and looked at her mug.

"Sure. Thank you," she smiled and handed her son the cup. "Breakfast was very nice."

"That was Lorraine's doing," Dare grinned. "She makes amazing omelets."

You win a boy's stomach and you've won his heart. Charisa nodded. "They are amazing." With the schools closed, there was no reason for anyone to go out today, though Lorraine's father would be coming over to pick her up later that afternoon, unless the political situation remained too unstable. The government was heavily discouraging unnecessary travel and most large public places were closed. The government was open, but only for critical personnel. "What are your brother and sister doing?"

"Lorraine's convinced them to have a race to see who can clean their rooms faster. Winner gets to bathe the cat."

"She really is a miracle worker," Charisa chuckled. "You'd better not let her get away."

"Mom!" Dare's face flushed. "I wasn't planning on it."

Charisa watched him go into the kitchen before turning to the sheet of paper and pen she had set down on the couch next to her. What was she going to tell Tore about all this? She wanted to write him first, knowing that any news he got from the military channels would be impersonal, and cold facts. The last thing she wanted him to be was distracted in the middle of a war zone.

If not for her particular alchemy, they probably would never have ventured down those stairs into the darkness. However, using her gloves, Trisha was able to sense ahead of them as they moved through the dark tunnel underneath Central, making sure they weren't walking into an ambush.

Not that she was useful for any other purpose while she was doing alchemy, but at least she could do it with fine enough precision that there was no real glow or noise to give them away. Fine control was exactly what was needed now.

The rest of the team had enough firepower to make up for her not holding something as mundane as a gun.

Back-up was also on the way, though in this case that meant there was not only another team coming in behind them, but one they had radioed to head to the area where they estimated –based on several factors- the tunnel might come out. They had figured out pretty quickly, given their location, that it likely ran all the way out to –and past- the old city wall. The city had expanded past that over the years, but the area was still far narrower as to where it could come out given the businesses on the other side.

"Their footsteps went up, like stairs, and vanished," Trisha whispered quietly. "There don't appear to be any other passageways, so it's a straight shot and up."

Kennison and others moved to the front, and Trisha heard a couple of safeties click. "Do you think they suspect we're here?"

Trisha thought hard for a moment. "They'd be fools not to expect to be followed, but it doesn't seem like they realize we've located the entrance to this tunnel." If they were wrong, there was no reason the enemy couldn't drop an explosive down the hole. Of course, destroying the tunnel would render it unusable in the future as well. Maybe I'll collapse it myself when we're out of here. Right in the middle would do nicely. "I think we're clear."

And on her head be it if she was wrong.

The trip to the stairs seemed longer in the dark, but Trisha counted it as not being more than about twenty meters when they arrived.

Their moment's pause ended when they heard the unmistakable sound of car engines above their heads.

On Kennison's hand signal, they hurried up the stairs, and burst through the door they found at the top into the bright light of morning—

-and dove for defensive positions as three cars peeled out of the garage, a man in the back of one scattering the room with automatic weapons fire.

Trisha ducked behind an empty oil drum, wincing as bullets clanged off the metal, but grateful none of them found her instead. Panting, she slammed her hands into the ground and sent alchemical energy shooting after the cars as the last one made it out the door. A moment later a sharp lance of air pierced the back tire, and it disappeared in a squeal that ended in a hard slam.

Kennison and the others ran forward, and Trisha joined them, even as she heard Kennison yelling into her radio. As soon as they cleared the doors, the crashed vehicle came into view, as did a street corner with signs.

Less than ten seconds later, Trisha heard sirens. She focused on the car ahead of her, clapping her hands together again and sending a whip of air above the car so it cracked above their heads like lightening.

The men scrambling out of the car dropped to the ground as if someone had shot bullets over their heads. Hands went over ears and she heard shouts of pain.

Then the police officers were on them, weapons drawn.

The man with the automatic weapon must have been in another vehicle, because none of the ones they took into custody had anything larger than a pistol on them. The car also didn't hold any major explosives.

"These flunkies aren't the big guys," Kennison said in disgust once they had them all cuffed.

"That's what back up is for, right?" Trisha said, glad none of their team had been hurt, but frustrated that the rest of their quarry were still out there, likely with the big explosives. It would be up to the military police in vehicles to chase them down. She didn't envy them that chase either.

"We've got a wagon on the way," Kennison nodded. "We'll need it to take these boys back." She gestured at the five men they had added to the six already in custody. "They'll definitely be wanted for questioning. For now, let's see what we can hear." She picked up her radio, swapped frequencies, and held it up.

"-moving down Bradley Avenue at sixty miles an hour. Car Seven moving to intercept at Bradley and Stone."

Trisha could visualize the layout as the cars radioed in. There were four in pursuit, two behind, and two heading towards them at intersect points. If Car Seven missed them, Car Twelve would be ahead. Two and Five were behind.

"Advise. Chaser One has branched off at Miller, heading East. Twelve and Two pursue. Five and Seven, stay on Chaser Two."
The chase was on. Trisha listened intently as the pair broke off following the first car, and another police car, Four, joined the pursuit. Chaser Two ran right into the trap.

"Chaser Two is intercepted, repeat, Chaser Two is intercepted. Shots have been fired. Approach with caution, plan Beta Three."

She listened to them surround the vehicle, and heard several shots fired before it went quiet. For a long minute, they heard nothing but a report that Chaser One had turned again.

"Chaser Two is down. We have three men and a woman in custody. Vehicle appears to be carrying three crates of explosive materials."

Trisha let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding—

-as something exploded in the distance big enough to send a small rumble even under their feet.

"What the hell—" The other officer didn't get to finish the sentence before the radio came to life again.

"This is Car Four. Chaser One just – exploded. Vehicle is on fire."

"Truck Two is on route," another voice squawked onto the channel, and Trisha knew that a firetruck would be on the scene in minutes.

Sirens much closer at hand made Trisha turn to see the truck the police used for prisoners pull into the street on which they stood, keeping guard over their newly arrested friends.

Trisha wanted to hear the rest of the radio messages, but by the time they loaded everyone into the wagon and took their team back through the tunnel –which she did carefully collapse in the middle where it would take them time to realize they couldn't dig through it— to their own vehicles, the chase was over and they were reporting that the vehicle, and everything in it, was a loss. The three men inside were all dead from the explosion and their bodies unidentifiable.

"Good work," Kennison said to her and the other two in the car as they drove back towards the station. "We've been asked to debrief and report at HQ as soon as we get back. After that, I've been assured we'll have a few hours off duty."

A few hours – oh joy. Trisha nodded. "At least they won't be using that tunnel again." She almost hoped they tried. They would be in for a nasty surprise.
Kennison nodded. "Fifteen Syndicate members in custody. That's got to be a record. Maybe we'll get some useful information out of them."

Trisha hoped so, but at the moment all she felt would be useful was a cup of tea and a shower. Then, maybe, she'd have wound down enough from the tension and excitement to sleep. She glanced at the bright sun above them. It's almost eleven. Definitely time for bed.

Mar 2nd, 1984

Of course I get this kind of news when I'm miles from a good stiff drink.

The telegram in Cal's hands might as well have been a cobra the way he held it, if only for the news it contained. Alyse was in the hospital, in critical condition, because the Hashman Syndicate had successfully hit HQ with two missiles – and he was hundreds of miles away.

Even worse, the news was two days old. Anything could have happened in two days. For all he knew, Alyse could be dead, though he fought the urge to even contemplate the possibility. If he did, he'd be useless.

As it was, he felt useless. There was nothing he could from here that would help Alyse or the kids. Charlie and Gloria had to be frantic, and he wasn't there to comfort them, or take care of things.

He felt like he'd let Alyse down.

Yet he was doing everything he could here. The fighting for the past two days had been particularly intense, but they had made excellent inroads, jamming the supply trains for the soldiers both by road and rail, thanks to some pitched battles and wanton destruction. The latter courtesy of Cal and his alchemists. This was something he knew how to do. The location might be different, but it wasn't all that much of a tactical difference between this and when they had pushed the Drachmans back in Western Amestris.

::Something wrong, Fischer?::

Cal opened his mouth, then closed it again as he looked at Shan Xian. Shan's wife and child were missing, captives in who knew what condition. It didn't seem fair to dump his feelings on the other man. Nor was it professional. ::The Syndicate attacked Central,:: he said. ::Using the rockets they got from the .::
Shan's expression darkened. ::How bad is it?::

::More damage to buildings than loss of life, thankfully,:: Cal replied. ::But still, it's not good.:: He put the telegram in his pocket. ::But we should get back to business. You wanted to discuss our possibilities for pushing the back across the Taolung River in the next three days.::

His personal anxieties would have to wait. It was already a month –which sounded such a short time, but felt so long—since the mess had started. Cal wondered if they could end it that quickly.

Another day was now a day longer than he liked, and by travel he was at least ten days from home – six if the train didn't stop. Whatever was happening with Alyse, he was incapable of helping.

I am going to personally make every last idiot on the other side sorry for this.

The conviction only made him feel slightly better as he and Shan got down to tactics.