He shouted into the receiver. "Hughes?!" No reply came. No matter how much he tried to keep his calm, fear raged through his stomach.

He dialled the number of Maes' office, but it was no surprise when the call wasn't answered, not even after minutes of waiting.

Next he tried the Internal Affairs main number. No answer there either. It was very late, here at Eastern there were only a few people left in the office. The same would be true for Central.

With trembling hands, he put down the receiver and sank back into his chair. He had to think. He had to think. Absentmindedly he ran his hand through his unkempt hair.

His eyes drifted over the phone, he hesitated for a moment, then picked it up again and dialled a simple zero.

The switchboard operator nearly immediately answered. "Colonel Mustang, how can I help?"

"Trace back the call that I last received. See if you can find where it came from. It is an emergency." He had not shouted, but he knew which tone to use to not leave room for discussion, as those that had followed him in Ishbal had learned early on.

"Yes, sir!" sounded the answer of the anonymous operator, sharp as a salute.

He put down the phone again and tried to rake his mind for people who would be able to help him in Central Command. There had to be someone whom he could ask. Someone who would know where Hughes was going, why he would make such a worrying phone call. Armstrong. Armstrong would know.

Just as he wanted to pick up the phone, it started ringing.

With a sigh of relieve he took up the receiver again. Surely this was Maes. The man was such a joker.

He almost shouted in frustration when he heard the voice of the operator again. "Sir, the call you requested was made from a phone booth not far from military headquarters in Central. I spoke to my colleague, and she said that Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes seemed impatient to reach you. Shall we try to connect you again?"

"No, I think I will send someone to him to see what is going on."

"Anyone you want me to connect you to, sir?"

He took a deep breath. "Major Armstrong, first try his office, but if that is not reachable, the Armstrong mansion."

Of course Armstrong had no longer been in the office. When he finally did reach him, after enduring a scolding by the Lady Armstrong, he could hear Alex' sleepy voice quickly turn into something more alert and awake as he understood why he called.

It had been the longest hours of his life. Sitting next to that phone, keeping watch, hoping, praying that everything would turn out all right. All the time thinking that if this was one of Maes' many pranks, he would personally kill him next time he saw him.

After an hour or so, Alex had called to say that he was raising the alarm, that indeed it seemed that . Hughes had left headquarters in haste, and that they all were worried too, now that he had spoken to the operator there, but what it was that she had said, he did not tell.

Roy knew then, that it was only a matter of time before Maes would be found. He just fervently prayed to whatever god that still wanted to listen to him that he would be alive and sound when they did.

Of course he should have known that he was not worthy of any god's attention. That they had long lost their claims on any help from a higher power. He did not even deserve a simple amount of luck.

When the final call came and he heard the trembling voice of a nameless sergeant instead of Alex' booming baritone, it confirmed his worst fears.

He could hear the Strong-arm alchemist's shouts in the background.

He sat there in his chair, the receiver still clutched in his hand. He was all alone now, everyone else long gone.

At some point, he could hear doors open and close again. It took him some time until he realised that people were arriving for a new day, oblivious to what had happened during the night.

He took out his pocket watch and clicked it open. Six-fifteen. Only an hour and a half or so until most of his team would arrive. He would have to tell them, and he did not even know how.

Tiredly he rested his head in his hands.

He did not even know what to tell them. All he knew is that the sergeant had said that Maes was dead. Shot in action he had said. It did not make sense. Maes would have told him if he had been involved in such a dangerous investigation. And Hughes had called him with his last breath. Him, Roy Mustang. Not Gracia, but him, and he would find out why. He would get to the bottom of this, even if it cost him his own life.

Seven zero zero.

He pushed himself to his feet. It was time to go.

Striding through the long corridors of the Eastern command centre, he was grateful for the lack of people at this early hour.

He had seen war. He had seen men die before. He had called very few of them friends, but still. He had always managed to keep his countenance in public, and he would not lose his self-control now.

When he reached the General's door, it was already open. Grumman stood inside, taking some papers out of his briefcase.

He softly knocked, and his superior looked up at the sound. "Ah, Colonel, come in. What brings you here so early in the morning?"

Roy stepped in and closed the door behind him, patiently waiting until Grumman had finished stacking his papers on his desk.

The old man sat down and looked at him over his glasses. "My Mustang, what has happened to you. You look like you have not slept all night. I hope you spent it in a pleasant way at least."

He did not even blink, but straightened his back. "I have come to ask for unpaid leave."

"Out of the question." Grumman took his nearest stack of papers and started to leaf through. "With the unrest in Reole, this is not the time for vacation, Mustang. Even you should know as much." Again the old man peered over his glasses, clearly waiting for a reaction. When it did not come, he leant back in his chair and took another look at Roy. "Sit."

It wasn't a request, and Roy obliged. Grumman put aside his papers, and Roy felt how he was scrutinized for a few long moments.

"Mustang. Speak to me. What happened?"

He did not know where to start. He did not know.

Grumman rose, and came nearer. To his surprise, the General put his hand on his shoulders.

"Colonel Mustang, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since…."

He took a deep breath, and forced the words out. "I received word early this morning. Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes was shot."

Grumman narrowed his eyes. "Hughes from Investigations? How is he? Do you want to go visit him, is that why you need leave?"

Roy turned his head away from his superior and stared at the wall. "He did not survive the attack. He tried to call me here yesterday around eleven, just before…" again he took a deep breath. "Sir. I need that unpaid leave. I will go to central on the afternoon train." He did not say that he would go with or without Grumman's authorisation, but he trusted he had made himself clear enough.

The hands on his shoulder gripped him tighter and he heard Grumman sigh before his superior let go. The old man walked back to his desk and sank down on his chair again. "Does anyone else here in the East know?"

He shook his head. "I spent most of the night trying to find out where Hughes was. Major Armstrong was of great help to organise the search. It was someone of his team who notified me of what had happened."

"At what time was this?"

"Four-twenty-two." He did not know why the General found this useful information, but he had been looking at his watch all night, and he knew exactly when the final phone call had arrived.

Grumman's eyes widened. "You coordinated the search for Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes from here during the night, and you managed to have him found within five hours, despite your lack of resources?"

Roy nodded. Grumman seemed to find all this impressive. To him it was not. Not when he had not managed to find Hughes alive.

The General leant back in his chair again and remained silent for a few moments. Roy could see him sort out his thoughts, and patiently waited.

"Hmm… I think indeed I will have to send you to Central. General Raven requested my opinion of you. They need someone to take charge of the State Alchemists, and they were thinking of you, with your reputation of Ishbal and all... I thought of giving him a call, but seen the circumstances, I think it would be good if I arrange for a personal interview in Central. You shall have to depart on a short notice, probably already today. I hope that will not bother you?"

"No sir."

Grumman pensively tapped his chin. "You know, I believe Lieutenant Hawkeye has some leave left, which accidentally needs to be taken up before the end of the year. Who knows how the situation with Reole will escalate in the next months. Perhaps this would be a good time to plan it?"

"Yes sir, I will let her know." He stared at a point behind the old man's head. He could not bear to look at him now. The General was far too considerate, offering him an opportunity to leave and even take Hawkeye with him.

"Does she know?" Grumman spoke softly now. "Because she deserves to know. He meant a lot to her too."

"No sir, I will go to my team right away to tell them of my assignment, and about what happened yesterday." He struggled, but succeeded in keeping his countenance even. He probably did not fool Grumman though.

"Very well, Colonel. Dismissed then, go pack your things. I will let you know at what time General Raven will see you tomorrow."

"Thank you sir." He walked out of the General's office, but afterwards hardly knew how he got back to his own desk. He must have met some people on the way, but he could not remember.

Hawkeye was already there, as were Havoc and Breda. It suited him just fine, these three would do. They could brief the others later on.

"Sir?"

He looked the Lieutenant in the eye as he answered her unspoken question on what was wrong. "Hughes was killed tonight."

Roy could see a flicker of pain in her eyes, but she too managed to keep her face unmoved. The loud curse of Havoc crackled through the air though, and the clattering of a falling cup told him that Breda too had heard him. He continued before they could start asking questions, not wanting to leave any room for a real conversation. "There is another matter. Grumman is sending me to central for interviews for the new position. He suggests you take some time off and perhaps visit your relatives. I have no need for your now."

She nodded, with a determination that he admired, for he knew he could not muster it himself in this moment. "I will take care of your train ticket. Leave would be welcome, I have long wanted to visit my aunt in Central. Perhaps we can travel together."

He breathed a small sigh of relief. At least she had understood.

"Havoc, you brief the others."

He walked to his desk and noticed the shaking of his hands while he took up some of the files that he still needed to read. He shoved them into his briefcase. He would not stay here. His subordinates already were far too worried as it was.

He had to keep his cool, they counted on him to lead them forward. They could not see his grief.