Falk Rainton had never been much of a gambler. It was one reason why he had trained to become a sniper. Taking pot-shots at people from the safety of whichever perch he had chosen that day was more than fine by him. His motto had always been something along the lines of 'he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day'. It hadn't been something his father had ever understood. Then again, that may be why his father had been killed in the coup fifteen years ago. He'd never quite forgiven the man for that—for leaving him with his dead-beat mother who only cared about where she would get her next fix. Not that he'd been much of a father anyway.
So he'd left 'home' and found his own way in the world. When life got hard, he studied the problem from afar until he could find a way to circumvent it. It had been one reason why he'd been attracted to the new FFO. Back when they'd all been idealistic fools being led about by even more idealistic idiots, he wouldn't have given the organization another thought. When Clemin came in, though, Falk had seen something he appreciated in the man. He'd seen someone who had also lost everything despite not being a gambler. It should have been his ticket to the good-life, if he could just stick around long enough.
Yes, it should have been, but it hadn't. He looked out on the broken skyline that made up the city of New Optain with a scowl on his face. As soon as this job was done, he would more or less be back to square one. At least he wouldn't be caught. Half of him wanted to simply move on now, but the other half of him appreciated that Clemin still didn't gamble much—that he needed a few aces up his sleeve. It wouldn't really hurt Falk to stick around for this one last assignment, even if the only place he'd been able to choose to mount his gun didn't give him as much perspective as he'd like. He'd much prefer less of an angle, but then, he'd learned at a young age that life didn't hand you what you preferred. Here, he was less likely to be found by the Military, so here is where he stayed.
Once he'd finished this job, he'd need to get out of the city, perhaps even out of the country. He was alright with that though. A change of scenery would do him good. If he could get away from all of this, he might be able to find another organization with a cushy position open for him. Perhaps if he headed north…
And with that, Falk began to make his preparations, never moving a muscle from his position. After all, he was a professional. He would do what he'd been hired to do.
Roy Mustang would die today.
xXx
The first thing Selim noticed when he began to wake up was that everything around him was quiet. After all the shouting and noise earlier, it made for a rather unsettling contrast. The second thing he noticed was that he could barely move his hands. He could feel something around his wrists…was he handcuffed?
Groggily, he began to force his eyes open. It didn't help. Everything remained black. He groaned quietly. Someone had trapped him in the dark again. He'd woken up far too many times like this recently. His hatred for complete darkness had shot up several levels since he'd regained his memories, and he couldn't deny that that underlying fear from his days as a human still undermined it all.
The worst part was that he had no way of telling how long he'd been out this time. He felt better than he had when Mandy had woken him before, but only marginally so, and his stomach was protesting rather vehemently to its lack of sustenance. He'd need to find something to eat soon.
Not for the first time, he cursed his decision to absorb Gluttony.
His entire left side had grown numb from the strange position he'd been laying in, so he tried to shift himself but hissed in pain as fire streaked through his left arm. Right, he had somehow forgotten that he'd been shot. The memories were coming back to him though, slowly but surely. The pain and discomfort saw to that. He may not know how long he'd been in such an awkward position, but his muscles told him it had been far too long. Especially his newly wounded arm. Actually, it was a wonder he hadn't bled out, he thought angrily to himself. He would have to find who had done that to him and—
"Hey," a soft voice whispered, startling him ever so slightly.
"Mandy?" he asked. His voice came out harsh and croaking.
"Yeah. It's me."
"What happened?" he asked, trying to shift again and bracing himself against the pain it brought. Whatever they'd been shoved into—likely a closet if they were still in the hotel—it was rather roomy and he found that movement wasn't really too difficult space-wise. He thanked fate for small favors.
"After you got shot, you collapsed and lost consciousness," she explained softly. "Now the head of the FFO is holding us hostage in place of the hotel patrons we rescued."
Her bitter voice didn't really register to Selim, his mind instead focusing on what she'd said.
"The head of the FFO…?" he couldn't help but ask blankly. The head of the FFO who had sent Bonnie and Marlin after him, who seemed to want him so badly and somehow knew his secrets…
"Clemin," he whispered harshly.
"Shh," she said right back in the same tone. "He said as soon as you woke up, he'll kill you!"
"He can try," Selim responded. And that actually brought up a really good question. Why hadn't he just killed Selim before, when he'd been helpless? Perhaps he was basing his assumption that Selim was no longer a threat because he'd lost consciousness? Perhaps he'd concluded that the homunculus was somehow weaker? If that were the case, the man had truly lost a good deal of his mental faculties. The Clemin Selim knew from the past would never have made such a rookie mistake. Then again, maybe he just wanted to see the look on Selim's face when he died. Revenge was something he could see the ex-general doing. Still, it was a huge risk, and really, Clemin knew exactly how risky, in all actuality.
"And he'll probably succeed if you're as out of it as you were earlier," Mandy commented dryly.
Selim would swear that he could feel Mandy's angry glare even in the darkness, but he didn't let it faze him. Instead, he scowled back, annoyed that he couldn't prove her observation wrong. Unfortunately, she was probably closer to right than he wanted to admit. He was having a hard time holding his head up, even now. As if to accentuate his current state, his stomach let out another loud growl.
He turned his glare down in the approximate direction of the organ.
"You know," Mandy said, her own voice tired—almost resigned, "I talked with the others when you were sleeping. When we were brought in here earlier, I noticed that there were plants all over the suite, if you think that will help."
"It might if I could get to them," Selim said dryly. Then he paused and began to realize what she'd just said. He blinked and turned his head in the general direction of her voice, his anger melting into surprise. "I kidnapped you, seriously considered killing you and used you as a human meat shield, and you're still trying to help me?"
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "You didn't think about that when we met up in the hotel earlier?"
Okay, he really had been out of it if he hadn't remembered how they'd parted before—or at least given it more than a passing thought. "No."
She sighed, her own annoyance fading to a warmer exasperation, much to his surprise. "Okay, yeah, you were different and weird and what not, but…you still let me go when you could have killed me. I don't know if you'll ever be that sweet little kid I met a few weeks ago again—"
"I won't," Selim broke in, muttering.
Fabric rustled from Mandy's direction, probably a shrug. "But I don't think you'll ever be able to get away from his influence either."
They fell silent for a few moments, each turning that over in their mind. Finally Selim just sighed. "You're right," he said, and while there was some pain in admitting it, it also felt good somehow. "I'm not Pride or Selim anymore…and I don't think I'll ever be either one of them again. It's not necessarily a good or a bad thing, it just is."
Mandy didn't answer him, but he sensed a sort of approval from her anyway. Okay, maybe he had been forced to be around her for too long if he could read her like that. Still it was a reaction he found interesting if he was indeed correct. She seemed so bitter when it came to her family and past but was able to forgive him for being a monster who had used her…just like that? What a strange girl. And yet, he couldn't seem to bring himself to be annoyed at her this time.
They sat there in silence for a few more minutes before Selim decided to get to the subject of escape.
"So, I'm guessing they took all of your alchemy circles."
"Yes. And chained my hands over my head. I can't draw anything."
"Of course."
"But they've been coming to check up on us every half an hour or so as far as I can tell. They turn off the light in the room outside, but there is always at least a little that gets in. Can you use your shadow powers then?"
And somehow, just how she'd said that made it seem so much cheesier. He rolled his eyes as his general annoyance towards her returned. "Yes. That shouldn't be a problem."
"You sure?"
He frowned, not caring that she couldn't see it. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You worried me earlier," was her only response along with another rustling of fabric as she either shrugged or shifted. "And the others said you were having a hard time using your powers, and darkness makes it harder for you to use them, right?"
"My shadows are always there," he responded, his voice just a little chilly. "They require quite a bit of energy, but as long as there is at least a little light, that shouldn't be a problem, especially if I can eat some of those plants."
She must have caught the note in his voice because she shifted again, and when she spoke her voice had regained some of its old fire. "You have a plan."
"Yes, but we're going to need a diversion."
She paused thoughtfully. "There's a code red message that will get General Mustang to act—attack again or what not—if I can get it to him."
Selim was sure his response should have sucked water from the air. "Two problems with that. First, how do we get a message to him at all, and second, why would the man I tried to kill do anything to help me out?"
"He might not like helping you at the moment," Mandy said, her voice derisive, "but I don't think he'll just abandon me."
"Gotten that far up in his graces, have you?" Selim shot back, wondering why he sounded so angry. Probably just because it was Mustang they were arguing about.
"Look," Mandy returned sounding more than a little put out, "he wants Clemin gone and this whole mess cleaned up. If he can take out the FFO now, he will. He won't let his personal feelings get in the way."
"Wow," Selim sneered, "you're a real fan girl, aren't you?"
"Tell me I'm wrong."
He couldn't. Not truthfully. Mustang had made 'deals with the devil' before to reach his goals, and Selim had no doubt that he would again.
"That still leaves the problem of getting a message to him in the first place," he said instead.
"Can't you send a shadow to him? I mean, can they stretch that long?"
He decided to forgo explaining that the shadows didn't 'stretch' like she thought and instead, seriously considered the question because really, what else did he have to work with at this point?
"If I had enough time and was able to eat something, yes."
"How long?"
Selim shrugged. "It depends on how far away he is."
"I think he's in the hotel on the lower levels," Mandy said.
That would be too easy. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, still not caring that she couldn't see him. "Then I'd need two or three minutes to relay a message, depending on how long the message is and how long it takes me to find him."
"Hmm," Mandy responded. "I think I can keep the guard talking for that long, but he might realize I'm stalling, and you'll have to pretend to be asleep or we'll have to fight our way out."
He was surprised she'd caught onto his general plan so quickly without him really explaining it. But then again, it was really the most plausible thing for them to do. A distraction, sneak out as best they could or take on every person they came across. As tired as he was, the first option would be best, and she knew it.
"You won't have to stall too much. Keep him talking as long as possible, but if it's only a few seconds, that's more than enough time."
He could imagine her blinking in surprise at him and smirked as she spoke uncertainly, "So, what are you going to do?"
"I don't need a lot of light," he explained. "Just the tiniest amount will technically create shadows. So I'll cut our handcuffs when he opens the door. You just need to make sure that he doesn't see it."
"Got it," she said, albeit a bit hesitantly.
Selim continued. "After that, it shouldn't be difficult extricating ourselves. I'll make sure there's at least a small hole in the door to the room outside and that will give me enough light to work with." Gah, it was so tiring explaining all of it like that, but he wasn't about to leave her behind, not when he could collapse at any moment. He had no doubt she would help him if the fatigue got the better of him again. Well, that and if they did run into Mustang, he would definitely need someone on his side. Also, the human side of him balked at the thought of abandoning her.
"And by then we should have more than enough time to contact the General and have him start the diversion," Mandy finished.
Selim nodded. "We'll undoubtedly have to deal with someone coming in to kill us, but we will have the element of surprise. Besides, you are Clemin's bargaining chip. He won't kill you until he has to."
"How reassuring," Mandy said blandly.
Selim snorted. "He doesn't want you dead. You should be grateful."
She paused for a moment before she asked a question he hadn't been expecting. "Why does he hate you so much?"
For a moment, he considered not answering, but really, he didn't have anyone to protect and talking got his mind off of the darkness surrounding him. He hadn't panicked yet, and he refused to give in to such base instincts. He had more control than that. He tried to ignore the memories of the horrible train-ride with the Elrics but failed rather miserably. Still, in this case he wasn't bouncing around like Gluttony on sugar and he didn't have to put up with the presences of two of his worst enemies. Yes, this was far more manageable than that. Still not ideal, and he needed to keep himself distracted, but he could handle this.
So he decided to answer her. "You know who I am and what part I had to play in the destruction of Amestris," he said softly.
"Yes," she responded, her own voice just as soft. "I do."
"Well, he was one of our inner circle. He helped run the country according to my father's wishes. In return he was supposed to become a philosopher's stone in his own right; an immortal. He didn't realize that Father had other ideas—that he didn't care for any promises made to humans, who he saw as nothing but fodder for his plans. I helped Father betray Clemin and he hates me for it."
"I see."
No, she probably didn't, but she did have at least a basic idea now.
"So, when do you think our guard will come back and check on us?" Selim asked, turning the conversation back to the task at hand.
"Well, he came just a few minutes before you woke up, so he should be coming back here pretty soon."
"Good," Selim said. "The sooner the better."
xXx
Sometimes, Roy really hated his job. Usually this general disdain aroused itself from sleep when he had to report to the Fuehrer.
He respected Olivier. He really did. That didn't mean he enjoyed speaking with her.
"So, basically," she started, her voice drier than the blasted desert, "you aren't going in and attacking because one of your underlings was stupid enough to be taken prisoner in place of the hostages that were rescued by, from my recollection, a being that wanted to destroy all human beings. Oh, and on a side note, they'll probably kill said being for us. Am I missing anything?"
Mustang grit his teeth. "I'm not going to endanger her. It's not hurting anyone to wait for a little longer."
"It's giving him more time to escape and endanger more people!"
"He's not getting out. I have the area around the hotel crawling with guards, the entire hotel itself practically strip-searched and completely secured with the exception of the few top-level rooms where he's holed up."
A grim silence from the other end and then a sigh. "I'm getting too old for this, Mustang," she said quietly. "Too old and too cynical. Ten years ago I wouldn't have even suggested you sacrifice your subordinate."
That actually went a long way to calming his temper. "Ten years ago you were a new Fuehrer dealing with possible wars on three fronts."
"And now I'm just an old Fuehrer dealing with possible wars on three fronts. Some things never change."
He smiled nostalgically. "We'll get him, sir," he said softly.
"You'd better," she responded, but there was no bite to her words. She just seemed old and tired. Then her voice gained just a spark of her old fire. "And save your subordinate."
"Yes, sir."
"I'd say goodnight, but—"
She cut off as Roy noticed something move out of the corner of his eye and jumped back with a surprised shout. The phone clattered to the floor. In front of him, a slim, shadow-like creature rose off of the table, one eye glaring at him while part of it split open to reveal some jagged-looking teeth.
"Ah, Mustang," a voice from the shadow said.
Roy had fired off a fire ball before he'd thought about it. So much for using alchemy sparingly. The shadow vanished for a moment only to be replaced by another one almost immediately.
The General found himself rather glad Riza wasn't in the room because she would have killed him for the colorful language he spouted. Lately, for some reason, she had taken to getting on his case for speaking like that. Something about public relations and breaking habits.
After a moment, he was able to calm himself down while glaring daggers at the thing. If it had wanted to kill him, it could have when he'd been distracted by his phone call with Olivier. So why hadn't it?
"Sir?" Hawkeye asked as she rushed in. "What…" and then she spotted the shadow construct, which had turned to look at her in that strange, side-ways fashion that Mustang remembered. It had always seemed so unnatural to him…not that there was anything natural about a homunculus. She immediately took out her gun and pointed it at the thing.
"Please," the thing said in the strange, multiple voice of Pride, "do you honestly think your bullets can do anything to me?"
"What do you want?" Roy cut in angrily. He hated being caught off guard like that and his ego really smarted right now.
He wouldn't have thought it possible for the shadow monster to give him a dry look, but it did, somehow. "The black fox jumped over the brown, lazy dog."
Roy froze. That was a phrase the new alchemists had learned if they were in trouble. Why would Pride be giving it to him…unless…. "What have you done with Parkins?" he asked, his voice dangerous.
The thing actually rolled its eye at him. "She's right here and she's safe."
"And I have your word for that?" Roy returned heatedly.
"Yes, you do. And it will be all the proof I can offer."
He snorted. "Little good that proof does you. You could have just swallowed her memories."
The pause that followed seemed all too thoughtful. "I could do that, you're correct. However, I have found recently that I have a slight…distaste for human souls."
"What do you want and offer me something concrete."
Roy could have sworn he saw a little twitch in the shadowed area around the eye. "I knew this was a waste of time and energy. Fine, I'll find my own way out, but don't blame me if your 'subordinate' gets herself killed."
At that, Roy grit his teeth. "Fine. What do you want?"
"Attack now. We need a diversion. As a bonus, I'll even get Clemin for you."
"More like you'll eat him."
"Don't tempt me," the shadow shot back, then seemed to think for a moment. "On second thought, I would not want his soul being the only one bouncing around inside of my stone. Ugh."
That comment more than anything else made Roy consider doing what the shadow asked.
Hawkeye must have been able to tell because she spoke up warningly. "Sir, why are you thinking of listening to…that thing?"
Roy silenced her with a look, but he knew he'd be paying for it later. Then he glanced back at the shadow thing, only to realize that it seemed to be shrinking.
Apparently Pride noticed it as well. "I can't hold this up anymore. You have ten minutes to create a diversion before Mandy and I break out and figure this all out on our own. Your choice, General."
And the shadow vanished as if it had never been. Mustang could hear Olivier screaming orders at him over the phone that was still on the floor, but he ignored it as his mind ran over the previous conversation.
"Sir, you can't possibly—" Hawkeye started, drawing him out of his contemplation.
"It doesn't make sense," he said, cutting her off.
She paused, blinking at him. "What, sir?"
"Why would he contact me? It makes no sense. We're enemies, so why? Besides, this way we have a chance at getting Parkins back alive."
"Don't count on it," she responded darkly.
Roy turned to her, frown on his face. "Then call it a gut feeling, lieutenant." With that, he turned around and placed the phone receiver back on the base, effectively hanging up on the Fuehrer. He knew she would agree with his subordinate, but he hadn't gotten where he was without taking a few risks here and there.
"Assemble the men," he said in his quiet but authoritative voice, the one he rarely used with her. "We attack now."
She wasn't happy, but she still nodded. "Sir!" With that one shout of acknowledgement, she turned and stalked out of the room. He winced. He'd be paying for that later. Still, if this would get him his subordinate back… They'd already lost four men, and in his opinion they were four men too many. He was determined to not lose any more people tonight.
xXx
Thanks again to Shade 40 for all of her help! Wouldn't have been able to do it without her! :D So yeah, climax coming soon. :) Hope it lives up to everyone's expectations.