Dear Beautiful Reader,
Thanks for coming back after my deplorable absence! Here's a quick story summary of recent events so far to get us all back up to speed... The treacherous game of Amestrian/Xingese politics has taken a drastic twist. Instead of Prince Ling being the target of the latest assassination attempt, Fuhrer Grumman is killed by his flirtatious coffee cart mole! Newly promoted Major General Roy Mustang calls down to his team to break the news. Colonel Edward Elric has rushed off to get Prince Ling and his entourage to safety, but when they arrive at Madam Christmas's Garden, it has been compromised! Ed leads a jaded Ling and co. to his own basement instead, but not before sending his own spy to his brother at Central University. There, Al and Fletcher, who have finally publicly stood up for Ed, receive word to get May out of harm's way, and just in time! Troops have been sent to secure the Xingese royals and Ed, as 'persons of interests' in the assassination of Fuhrer Grumman, while the city is on lockdown under Major General Hakuro's Marshal Law order.
Now, let's catch up with the team!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
***The Hawk's Eye***
Riza slammed down the phone, pain gripping her heart. Her world began to shrink in on itself, its foundations crumbling, giving way.
"Grandfather," she whispered clenched her fist over her heart. Her honey brown eyes filling with a sharp pain as her forehead scrunched with her denial. It couldn't be. The old man who had watched over her, guided her, was gone. Taken away with an assassin's bullet.
She let the knowledge of her loss take hold for a moment, let it drown her, let the last of her family drift away in the second between heart beats.
Her General was all she had left. Him and their team.
"Hawkeye…" Edward called her away from the depths, concern lacing his voice. She was startled, realizing the young man across from her could see her raw emotions, unsettling him. It was what she needed to help her gain a modicum of perspective, control. Now was not the time for loss. There were people who needed her, that looked to her for direction, for support. She clamped down the shaking, knowing it was there for only a hair's breadth and that he had seen it, but hearing her name brought her back. Her head popped up, face hard as stone.
"Foxtrot Alpha Lima," she ordered to the room. "Send Intel to the Führer's office. Edward, Sierra Delta Golf."
Foxtrot Alpha Lima… Grandfather was…
The room exploded with motion. Every stressed soldier pulled their phone and dialed memorized extensions, all with the same message: lockdown procedures for command, the compound, and the city. Further details would follow. Intelligence was to send a team to the scene. All Generals were to meet in the Council room with armed escorts.
"Colonel, Sierra Delta Golf!" She shouted, pulling her gun and checking the chamber while the others flew into action, not sparing Edward any more of their attention.
She could see the news make him reel, but knew in a glance he would do his duty. Riza saw him out of the corner of her eye as his feet propelled him out the door as their activities buzzed behind him.
Good.
Riza began to feel her training kicking in. Feels her back straighten and her movements become more precise. Feels a brush of desert heat and harsh sand on her cheek, but does not let it distract her from what needs to be done now.
She issues orders with cold steel in her voice- no room for argument, not that they would have
They are off to follow their orders
So is she
She is emotionless- stone flat
Before she knows it, she is home
She passes photos along the hall- there is a man in some who will never be in another photo- but she takes no notice
She is filled with purpose- spurred to action- to be the Hawk's Eye once again
She kneels at her bedside- not from lack of logic or an overflow of emotion- no- she is in control- in complete control
She leans lows, not breaking from the pain of loss, not from the searing agony of knowing she is now the last of her family's line- no, she bends down to gain a strength she had long hoped to never have need of again
She takes a deep breath, not to shutter a stifled cry- her eyes are dry, clear. Sharp. Her hand steady.
She reaches out beneath the metal frame and grips the handle, knowing what it means to hold it
Her arm retracts what it sought, hauling out a worn battered case- she is not going to use it to hide, to run- no- she will use its contents to her advantage, allow it to aid her sight.
She raises it to her quilt covered bed, knowing only this case holds her cause- her name sake's focus, its concentrated mechanical strength
It has gotten dusty, but never rusty
Her calm fingers deftly lift the metal clasps, popping it open with a satisfying thump-thump
She creaks open her vital case- inside sleeps her old companion, not a lover- no- never something as clumsy as someone to whisper words into her ear- no- something much closer, much more trustworthy
Her gaze is blinded, not by tears, but by the light shining on her steadfast tool
It had been too long since she'd held it, since she cradled its serene arm, holding it flush to her chest
She placidly checks it over, every piece slotting open to her inspection, showing her the smooth glide of well-used ministrations
In a blink, she is in her nest, huddled to the floor of the highest tower, her men following her orders, corralling their prey
Her sight shows her the way
To the right
Forward, then right
Block the exits, cut off a way out
Yes- like that
She checks her sight- the angle, the wind, the sun, the distance
Her men spring their trap as she settles down- nowhere else for her prey to go but where she wants- where she is ready
Slowly- she breathes slowly- slows her heart- feels the space between beats
There- Jean and Furey from the right, Breda and Falman at the rear, her General Mustang to the left
And their fox- their traitorous spy- their assassin standing between them all
Alice
She takes a deep breath- readies her shot- feels the lull in her heart- her finger on the trigger
"No! Jean! Step back! You're in the way!"
In the brief mistake, Alice reaches behind herself, and the Hawk's Eye knows what she is going for- knows the safety will be off the back up gun
Alice aims at her own head- ready to pull the trigger- knows there is no way out for her but death
There is a delay in the sound- too far away to hear it immediately- the sound of a bullet as it is released
Alice's hand is no more the fine fingered elegance it was
Alice falls back to the ground with the concussive, consecutive bullets shocking her backwards
Breda calls over the radio, "She'll bleed out!" but her General is there
She can see more than hear the result of his snap- Alice's bullet wounds burst into flames, cauterizing them closed
Her General stands above the writhing figure, and she can just make out his sardonic, "You'll live" over the open comm- his voice is flat- as if it were a shame
She could not agree more
A/N:
Sorry to have been away! After getting the story this far, my well meaning hubby/beta listener offered a logical addition: namely this chapter. However, when I wrote it as it is basically now, he gave some very different directions that took me almost a year to get over- no matter how I wrote it. So screw it! Writer's block be damned, and we can just have the story progress how I had originally intended 8 months ago ;)
Also, here are my thoughts on this chapter:
Riza Hawkeye is a bad ass. From her first chapter, in Lior after the first assassination attempt on Ling, she goes to he highest part of the city to gain perspective on the events of the day. She does so by emotionally distancing herself from what has happened. At the time, she is invested socially, politically, and professionally in the outcome. In this chapter, she does the same thing for very different reasons. Her grandfather, her last living blood relative, has been assassinated. All she can do is emotionally detach, gain distance from the event, and make herself not feel his loss by becoming the cold-hearted soldier she use to be in the Ishbalan War. In this way she can be of use, can keep her people safe, help catch the assassin; she could not have done it if she was a granddaughter seeking revenge. That's how people get killed, and she only has Roy and the team left. People she cares about. And now she knows it. They aren't just her team. Their her people. Just my own view of things.
